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As you get older, you get buried under advice about how to live longer, healthier, and stronger. Doctors, researchers, and lifestyle gurus all insist they’ve cracked the code.
Take this recent Washington Post interview with Eric Topol, a cardiologist who’s studied aging. He declares:
“Of all the things we know about, the one that rises to the very top is exercise.”
Sounds pretty clear, right?
But then you notice the photo—Topol smiling in front of a beautiful beach house, resistance bands in hand. Readers were quick to point out what he didn’t say: socio-economic privilege is one of the strongest predictors of longevity. Money buys you not just a beach house, but also good healthcare, safe neighborhoods, and the time to exercise. .
Even if Topol is right with large numbers and averages, reality is a lot messier. Professional athletes also get dementia, cancer, hearing loss, vision loss, and wrecked joints. I once knew a Marine Corps captain who retired at 50 with tendons so shredded he could barely walk.
Meanwhile, plenty of people who “do everything wrong” beat the odds. Everyone knows the 80-year-old smoker who outlives their clean-living siblings. I knew one myself—two packs a day, no cancer, no heart disease, no diabetes.
Statisticians call this mistake survivorship bias. You only hear about the winners.
Books on millionaire habits celebrate those who struck gold, while ignoring the thousands who followed the same rules and stayed broke. The same happens with health. We admire 90-year-old joggers, but forget about the runners who dropped dead at 60.
Yes, exercise and diet can increase your odds. But heredity, environment, access to healthcare, and sheer dumb luck play at least as big a role. “Blue zones,” those mystical places of longevity, don’t just share lifestyles—they share gene pools.
For me, the real case for exercise is more like Pascal’s Wager. Blaise Pascal was a 17th century philosopher who argued that believing in God was the best bet: if God exists, you win heaven; if not, you lose little. So you might as well engage in all those holy behaviors.
Exercise works the same way. I feel better and move better when I exercise. And it serves my vanity to be told how fit I look.
But let’s be honest: when it comes to long-term health, the whole thing is a crapshoot. Genes, accidents, random mutations, bad air—none of it is under your control.
When someone lives a long, “healthy” life, we say, “They did everything right.” When someone falls ill or dies young, we blame them for not taking care of themselves. Both views are delusions of order in a world run by chance.
So yes, I’ll keep exercising. But I wouldn’t be shocked if I end up with the same heart disease, cancer, or dementia as the guy who lived on fried food and cigarettes. The difference? At least I’ll have felt a little better along the way.
I wrote about fitness in my book: When I Get Old I Plan to Be a Bitch. Available as a paperback or ebook.
