Remarks made by Richard T. Silver, MD at symposium in his honor, April 3, 2019

Remarks made by Richard T. Silver, MD at symposium in his honor, April 3, 2019

Speech Dr. Richard T. Silver

For a nation that emphasizes youth, America spends a lot of time obsessing about retirement. So said Jim Michaels of the Wall Street Journal. The Medical College thinks a lot about it, too. As evidenced by our e-mails, our human resources department has organized several conferences on retirement and advice on 401Ks.

Years ago, a patient of mine gave my son a set of the World’s 100 Best Books. Although he rarely opened these books, I did and from time to time I browsed through the covers. Looking at a commentary on the ancient philosophers, I remembered that our friend Marcus Cicero had some thoughts about retirement more than two thousand years ago. He said that retirement and becoming an elder were wonderful for the soul. After struggling with decades of lust, ambition, strife, and quarreling, one’s battles were at last over.

Cicero believed that with the mind no longer clouded by passion and desire – the source of many of the world’s ills – one could then live quietly, in contemplation of a life well-lived. Of course, Cicero did not need to worry about a 401Ks, long-term health insurance, Presidential elections, or getting a paper published in a medical journal.

But his recommendations do confront the fear many have in considering retirement. Work keeps us busy, defines our value in society, and often gives us a social life. What happens when it all goes away?

Maybe that’s why Cicero did not follow his own advice. He did not stay on the large farm to which he retired. After he wrote his essay, he was drawn back into public life. Maybe boredom or his ego got the better of him. Soon after Julius Caesar’s assassination in 44 BC, he became involved in violent infighting, and was killed by Marc Antony’s soldiers as he tried to flee to Macedonia.

So, should he have stayed on the farm which he loved? I don’t know how you would measure a man’s worth by a solitary existence on a farm, and perhaps neither did he. Basically, I’m not

interested in it.

That’s why, beginning July 1st, although I will formally stop seeing patients, I will continue to see them in a modified fashion, assisting Dr. Abu Zeinah, our gifted new MPN specialist. And I will continue my clinical research activities in the MPN Center.

I guess that, having reached my 90th birthday, I’m rightfully considered an elder. For some people, that term means someone who is ready to go out to pasture, but to others – including me -- it has a whole different context.

I think staying “relevant” is more important than worrying about being considered as an elder. Let me point out to you that the term “elder” is very relative. Nowadays, particularly in Silicon Valley, a 45-year-old man surrounded by 25-year-olds is called an elder. In Cabo San Lucas, on the cliffs overlooking the Pacific, there is now a very expensive retreat which was written up in the New York Times a few weeks ago. The owner, an entrepreneur named Chip Conley, offers week-long, $5,000 sessions on how to be a “Modern Elder.” He was surprised to find that the first applicants to the program ranged in age from 30 to 74 years, with an average of 52.

The article notes that older millennials, those in their midthirties, came of age on the cusp of the digital revolution. The arrival of Generation Z to the workplace, is showing millennials what a true digital native looks like. The median age of a worker at Facebook, LinkedIn, and Space X is 29. A recent study showed that the hiring rate seems to slow once someone is over the age of 34. In this context, millennials are already elders.

In medicine, we are fortunate that we do not have to suffer from the same perceptions as folks in Silicon Valley. To me, what is most important is what determines relevance for a particular individual. One study showed that a janitor who sweeps floors in a hospital thinks he has a much more important job than a janitor who sweeps floors in a bank or a subway station. Finding meaning, whether as a janitor, a banker, a board chairman or a physician, is difficult work. It can’t be taught. But if we are lucky enough and try hard enough, we can remain relevant, regardless of age.

For me, and I hope for many of you in this room, there is a continued sense of exuberance and excitement when you are on

the cutting edge of making a new scientific or clinical finding — even a minor answer to a provocative and puzzling aspect of an illness. There is nothing better than connecting that discovery to the treatment of a patient who has sought your help. When it leads to a cure or the remission of a disease it is a real high. The feeling of relevance is fantastic.

As a clinical investigator, I’ve published many articles in leading journals and written several books, and I am very proud of that. But as a physician, there is nothing more satisfying than when a patient says, “Thank you doctor. I really appreciate what you have done for me.” And that, ladies and gentlemen, is relevant to any elder – of any age.