As a sometime career advisor, I keep looking for a book geared toward middle-aged people. This book seems to be about preparing for the years just past middle age, which Mary Pipher characterizes as the “old youngsters.”

As I’ve pointed out in reviewing other books, I often think it’s impossible to write a really useful book about this stage of life because (a) there just aren’t many options for everyone and (b) there’s such a wide variety of people, health levels , skills, aptitudes, background and more. Sara Lawrence-Lightfoot addresses (b) by focusing on a small portion of the population: educated, healthy people with no financial worries. Within that group, he finds common patterns: a longing for something that can’t always be named, a resistance to change (possibly because successful people tend to resist changing a cherished identity), and, finally, learning that differs from experiences. previous in the classroom.

It’s ideas like this that led me to give the book a 4 star rating instead of 3 stars. I agree with the reviewers who complained about the length of the interviews, the details of the subjects’ lives, and the narrowness of the range of topics. I also agree that the book does not present as many original ideas and frameworks as readers might expect from extensive research. But as a former academic, I think it’s appropriate to work with a limited sample, as long as you make that clear up front, preferably in the title of the book. It’s valuable to ask explicitly, “If money weren’t an issue, how would people choose to go into the 1960s and 1970s?” At the same time, these people are protected from many consequences of aging.

I also liked the author’s review of how notions of aging and retirement have changed. I would have liked to see more on this topic. When I lived in New Mexico, I met people who lived in those “55+” communities, including a woman who cared for her elderly parents. When her mother died, she was in her early fifties: too young, according to the community. I also met people who wondered why I didn’t want to live with my age mates, an idea that suffocated me. It’s good to have the historical perspective.

The best part of the book was the author’s interview with economist Matthew Gladstone. Gladstone’s perspective makes sense, possibly because I come from a high school background and enjoyed my economics courses. Gladstone suggests that as we continue to work, the law of diminishing returns sets in. If I understand him correctly, I think he might suggest that a successful lawyer might greatly enjoy winning his first case, then his second… but at some point, he will be less happy. It’s like eating a meal when you’re hungry; as you start to feel full, you don’t enjoy the food as much.

I think we could further broaden economic thinking. When you reach a certain age, you can certainly invest whatever time, energy, and money you have into learning something new or starting a new business. But your ROI (return on investment) will be limited. You can write a novel and maybe even sell it, but you won’t have time to go on and write a series that brings you the true rewards authors receive after a long career.

I do not agree that the book should be read as an academic article or a dissertation, as I have seen too many examples from reality. In fact, I think the book would be stronger if the author had introduced more sociological concepts to frame many examples. For example, interviewees made transitions from high-level professional or organizational settings to a more intellectual, artistic, and/or spiritual focus. I know many people who never want to stop working. Volunteer work and the arts will never be enough for them (and I feel that way myself). The author points out that one of the interviewees, Pamela, feels frustrated because there are structural and institutional limits to her contribution. However, anyone over the age of 50 who wants to continue earning money faces much greater challenges.

Finally, I admit to being jealous of those who found their new artistic vocations. I wish I’d thought of singing lessons, but I suspect they’ll still recommend playing the songs instead of trying to sing them. For the past ten years, I have taken pottery classes in two different states. He was less and less talented than anyone in the class. It was fun, though, and I’ve just summarized. This time I decided to launch. I’m still less talented than anyone and I also have pain in the deltoids in my left arm. Still, I resonate with the experience of the interviewee, Josh, learning to play the piano: trying to aspire to a higher level brings psychic rewards.