Senator Dick Durbin of Illinois is calling it quits. The longtime Democrat announced Wednesday he will not seek re-election to the United States Senate. First elected to the U.S. House in 1983, Durbin—now 80—will retire in January 2027, capping a 30-year Senate career.
“The decision of whether to run for re-election has not been easy,” Durbin said in a video announcement. “I truly love the job of being a United States senator. But in my heart, I know it’s time to pass the torch.”
Good on Durbin. More leaders should follow his example.
The Founders had the foresight to set age minimums for federal office: 25 for the House, 30 for the Senate, 35 for the presidency. In Federalist 62, James Madison defended these thresholds, writing that the Senate’s role required a “greater extent of information and stability of character.” Simply put, they wanted maturity and judgment—more of it for the Senate than the House.
The debates of the Constitutional Convention reflect this view. Stability, temperament, credibility, and respect were recurring themes. The Framers believed that reaching a certain age, paired with the voters’ discretion, was a reasonable barometer of readiness that would yield the desired traits.
What they didn’t contemplate—perhaps because the body often failed before the mind in that era—was an age of disqualification. Life expectancy at America’s founding hovered between 35 and 45 years. While several Framers lived to old age, few participated in government late in life. Washington was 57 at his inauguration, Adams 61, Jefferson 57, Madison 57, Monroe 58.
Fast forward to today. A person born in 1950 who is still alive now has an average life expectancy of 86 to 88 years.
Joe Biden was 82 when he left office. Donald Trump is 78 today. Ronald Reagan was 77 when he departed the presidency. The media is filled with stories questioning Biden’s mental fitness—his last debate performance only affirmed reports. Trump faces similar questions though not as profuse.
Is the country best served by officeholders in their advanced years? Overall, likely not.
Age slows everyone down. Cognitive ability declines. Physical limitations set in. Energy fades. And these jobs—congressman, senator, president—are hard. The higher the office, the harder the job. Age makes the hill steeper.
Corporate America figured this out long ago. Roughly 70 percent of Fortune 500 companies impose some form of mandatory retirement age for their CEOs and senior executives. The reasons are straightforward: new ideas, fresh perspectives, cultivation of leadership pipelines, and space for rising talent.
All good things.
Yet in politics, too many hang on too long. Robert C. Byrd and Strom Thurmond come to mind among others.
The country would be well served by serious discussion of an upper-age limit for federal office. The Founders put faith in the voters to weed out those unfit for office—a noble idea, though whether we always get it right is another commentary.
Still, the logic of a mandatory retirement age is hard to ignore.
Will Congress ever pursue such a change? Doubtful. And if by some chance they did, would it prove wise? Ask me when I’m in my 80s (Good Lord willin’ and the creek don’t rise).