It’s time for age limits for members of Congress

Nathan L. Gonzales, Tribune News Service

In a country bitterly divided on virtually everything, from the major to the mundane, there’s one issue that could unite Republicans and Democrats: age limits. An uncomfortable conversation about the acuity of aging politicians, from Republicans Strom Thurmond of South Carolina and Thad Cochran of Mississippi to Democrats Robert C. Byrd of West Virginia and Dianne Feinstein of California, has only been magnified by former President Joe Biden’s years in office and former Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell’s closing time on Capitol Hill. Then there’s former Texas Rep. Kay Granger, now 82, who was discovered by The Dallas Express staying at an assisted living facility toward the end of her House term as she dealt with what was later reported as “dementia issues.” San Francisco Democrats made news recently over a proposed resolution to call politicians in California to voluntarily retire at an age to be determined later. But the country and Congress should consider something more permanent, specific and restrictive.

One of the first criticisms of any suggestion about age limits on elected officials is usually discrimination — the idea that you can’t discriminate against candidates based on their age. But the Constitution already does so, with age minimums. Members of the House have to be 25 years old, (Article 1, Section 2, Clause 2 of the Constitution). Members of the Senate have to be 30 years old (Article 1, Section 3, Clause 3). And presidents have to be 35 years old (Article 2, Section 1, Clause 5). So the age discrimination argument shouldn’t even be a part of the conversation. Considering the general bias toward the perceived wisdom of the Founding Fathers, a critic could say that the framers who included an age minimum would have included age maximums if they had wanted. But life expectancies were considerably different more than 200 years ago.

The average life expectancy was closer to 40 years in the late 18th and early 19th centuries. And even though the first six presidents served into their mid-to-late 60s, the Founding Fathers couldn’t have fathomed elected officials serving into their 80s and 90s. At 81, Benjamin Franklin was 15 years older than any other signer of the Constitution. Today, he wouldn’t rank among the top 10 oldest members of Congress.

At a time when Congress can barely agree on a framework for when to reach an agreement, passing a constitutional amendment seems particularly ambitious. A constitutional amendment must first be approved by a two-thirds vote of both chambers of Congress and ratified by three-fourths of the states with an up-or-down vote in each legislative chamber. There’s been only one constitutional amendment passed in the past 50 years. The 27th Amendment, first submitted in 1789, was ratified in 1992 and effectively said that any raise Congress votes to give itself can’t take effect until after the next election so constituents can decide whether they deserve it. (The 26th Amendment, which lowered the voting age to 18 years, passed in 1971.) There could be some initial pushback from Republicans because age limits might be seen as a shot at the current 78-year-old resident of the White House and his ability to do the job. And there’s the challenge of asking current members of Congress to limit their own tenures in Congress. So there might have to be some sort of provision to grandfather in (or, in some cases, to great-grandfather in) sitting lawmakers to exempt them from the new restrictions.

That would leave us waiting a long time for the fruits of such an effort to be seen. But that doesn’t mean it’s not a worthwhile endeavour. While longtime incumbents often rouse strong feelings of loyalty and deference, it’s hard to imagine that lawmakers who work beside elderly colleagues believe it’s in the best interest of their constituents and the country for them to serve into their golden years.

A considerable majority of Americans are open to this idea. More specifically, 82 percent of Republicans and 76% of Democrats support a maximum age limit for elected officials, according to a 2023 Pew Research Center poll. But landing on a specific maximum age might be more difficult than the daunting task of passing a constitutional amendment: 85 years old? 80? For some reference points, senators in Canada, who are appointed and not elected, have a mandatory retirement age of 75. In the Catholic Church, only cardinals younger than 80 can participate in a papal conclave to choose the next pope. Just 1% of S&P 1500 companies have a CEO age 78 or older, which is interesting considering the gravity of work lawmakers have to do on Capitol Hill. The average age for an S&P 1500 CEO is 58, which is close to the median age of a House member (57.5) in the 119th Congress, according to Pew. The median age for a senator is 64.7. But that masks some of the oldest members, including Iowa’s Charles E. Grassley (91), Vermont’s Bernie Sanders (83), McConnell (83), Maine’s Angus King (81), Connecticut’s Richard Blumenthal (79), Vermont’s Peter Welch (77), Hawaii’s Mazie K. Hirono (77) and Oregon’s Ron Wyden (75). Idaho’s Jim Risch (81), Massachusetts’ Edward J. Markey (78) and Rhode Island’s Jack Reed (75) have announced they’ll seek reelection in 2026. New Hampshire’s Jeanne Shaheen (78) bowed out recently and will soon be joined in retirement by Richard J. Durbin (80) of Illinois.

In the House there are 41 members age 75 or older, with Dina Titus of Nevada and Donald S. Beyer Jr. of Virginia joining them in the next couple of months. The eldest members include Harold Rogers of Kentucky (87); Maxine Waters (86), Nancy Pelosi (85), Doris Matsui (80) and John Garamendi (80) of California; Steny H. Hoyer of Maryland (85); James E. Clyburn of South Carolina (84); Danny K. Davis (83) and Jan Schakowsky (80) of Illinois; John Carter of Texas (83); Frederica S. Wilson of Florida (82); Rosa DeLauro of Connecticut (82); Virginia Foxx of North Carolina (81); Emanuel Cleaver II of Missouri (80); and Bonnie Watson Coleman of New Jersey (80). Critics of age limits might say that institutional knowledge is important to a functioning Congress. But how’s that working out? Elderly wisdom doesn’t seem to be helping smooth things along these days. And there are plenty of members younger than 70 who know how things work. Of course, the precise amendment language would have to be worked out, perhaps by focusing on age when taking office. An official age 70 or older can’t be sworn in, for example.

That benchmark would have affected only three presidential inaugurations: Biden in 2021 (78) and Trump in both 2017 (70) and 2025 (78). It would have kept West Virginia Republican Jim Justice, 73, out of the Senate, and it would shake up next year’s Senate race in Maine, which features GOP Sen. Susan Collins, 72, and potentially Democratic Gov. Janet Mills, 77. Former North Carolina Gov. Roy Cooper, who hasn’t ruled out a Senate run next year, would be 69 in January 2027 if he happened to run and win.

Rather than a constitutional amendment, some folks plan to use elections to force elderly members into retirement. Democratic National Committee Vice Chair David Hogg committed to spending $20 million through his outside group, Leaders We Deserve, to help younger, progressive challengers win primaries against older incumbents in safely Democratic districts. And younger primary challengers have already popped up this cycle against Pelosi, Schakowsky, Georgia Rep. David Scott (79) and others. Going by history, most of these efforts will fall short. And some people will deem it a vote of confidence in the elderly and a refutation of young people. But in reality, it will have more to do with the powerful advantages of incumbency, including name ID and fundraising. Considering the huge hurdles to be overcome, I realize that this column might have been written in vain. But if a C paper written by a 19-year-old college student could propel the 27th Amendment to be ratified after 200 years, then there’s a chance the country could finally get it right on age limits.