Planned Obsolescence

iPhones, Bodies, Minds, etc.

I got a new iPhone a couple of weeks ago to replace a phone I bought in 2019. Four years is not a very long lifespan, but my phone was making it clear that its time had come. So I packed it up in a box and sent it in for a new one. A quick death. Planned obsolescence, they call it. My little iPhone XR designed with its imminent demise in mind. Me, four tiny years later, clicking “Buy Now” on its replacement. Every transaction predestined.

You’ve probably seen the ads for the new iPhone 15, but if you haven’t, here’s what you’ve missed: a rich, midnight-black billboard that frames a glowing image of a super-sleek, ultra-shiny phone corner. Next to it, in brilliant white letters, the made up word “Newphoria.”

I bet the marketing team had a great afternoon off after this, all of their work having essentially been done for them. They don’t need to actually tell us anything about a new phone anymore for us to run out and buy it. All they have to do is subtly (or not-so-subtly) remind us that newness makes us happy and oldness, therefore, makes us miserable.

In my bathroom, there is a shelf full of expensive potions that promise antidotes to oldness. Collagen renewers. Fine line faders. Hyperpigmentation erasers. Complexion brighteners. Anti-aging toner, anti-aging serum, anti-aging moisturizer. If you are what you buy, then anti-aging would practically be my political stance.

Oh, me? I’m pro-choice and anti-aging.

As much as I love a good serum, I don’t want to be anti-aging at all. Aging has brought me the gift of myself. Who would I be to try to erase that? But I’m thinking a lot these days about our disdain for oldness - the way we rush to write off old things and old people as if they’re already dead.

I’ve been watching a docuseries about the places on Earth where humans live the longest. The most common denominator of these “blue zones” is a total rejection of our view of oldness. In these places, nobody writes off old people as “pretty much already dead”, ESPECIALLY not the old people themselves. In these places, old people stay constantly active well into their nineties because it is the cultural norm and the societal expectation. Diet and exercise are major factors, of course, but they are quietly built in. People in their eighties, nineties, and hundreds tend their own gardens, cook their own meals, practice their hobbies diligently, walk up and down steep roads to the shops and back. And they stay fully in community instead of being hurried away to the margins by those around them - or by themselves. They are social and involved. They are vital.

Source: https://conasur.com/journey-to-the-blue-zones-the-worlds-greatest-longevity-and-health/

I hope I never get myself to a point where I say “okay, well, good enough” and resign myself to a slow withering away. I want to be anti-aging in the right way - not by being against the changes of my body and soul, but by being against the idea that I am expiring in the spoiled produce sense of the word. I want to be learning new things when I’m in my eighties, taking up hobbies, practicing skills. Isn’t that the best part of being here, anyway? Experiencing? Learning? Staying open?

I know my shiny new phone won’t be shiny in a handful of years, and my face probably won’t be either. But I hope my notebook is, and my pots and pans are, and my friendships are, and my love is. Let’s not throw out the wrong parts of our lives, shall we?

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What to Eat: Older people in the “blue zones” have quite a few common denominators when it comes to diet: lots of plants, lots of beans and legumes, little to no processed junk. In honor of longevity, make yourself a minestrone soup to get you through a cold week. Almost any recipe will do, but the basics are these: A mirepoix of celery, carrot, and onion, a healthy vegetable stock, some form of tomatoes, at least one legume (I love using kidney or cannelloni beans and chickpeas), as many vegetables as you can muster, and, if you’re me, ALWAYS pasta. For best results, throw in a parmesan rind to simmer with the soup as it cooks.

On Repeat: As I’ve gotten older, I’ve started to think that one of the best measurements of someone’s assholery is how open or closed they are to learning about new music. Are you insistent that you know the ONLY good music and anything you don’t already know or like is probably trash? I used to be like that, so I can safely tell you this: you’re probably a bit of an asshole.
Anyway, sometimes, my teenage students give me the best music recommendations, so I have to think them for introducing me to Gracie Abrams (yes, JJ Abrams’ daughter). Her music has been on repeat more than anything else lately. Sometimes the kids do know best.