The Elderly as Disposable

Old age. The later years of life.

Growing old in today’s world is becoming increasingly distressing.

In the relentless race of producing, consuming, wasting, and then producing once again, humanity is leaving behind many of what were once considered its social values—the very glue that binds society together.

Ironically, while people remain in the workforce, they long for the day when it will all end: retirement, rest, and freedom at last.

At sixty-five, many of us still feel fit and capable, and so we begin to live anew, with fewer worries and more deeply immersed in the second experience of parenthood. Grandparents are the natural result of a life lived and matured, and their experience cannot be discarded without losing that transmission of memories and wisdom that only lived existence can provide.

Yet, eventually, through the implacable unfolding of life, loneliness becomes increasingly pronounced. For a social animal such as the human being, loneliness is a lethal weapon, one that burns slowly, consuming its victim in a lingering flame. An endless mortification.

The Western world, the most industrialized of societies, increasingly casts its elderly aside into social warehouses known as nursing homes, retirement facilities, or, in gentler language, care homes.

Although the Azores have historically been known for a demographic structure somewhat younger than that of mainland Portugal, the aging index has also risen substantially there. The archipelago faces particularly critical challenges when it comes to isolation and family mistreatment.

Cross-disciplinary academic studies focused on the Autonomous Region of the Azores reveal that suspected abuse or severe neglect affects approximately 24.5 percent of vulnerable elderly people living within family and community environments, and this trend continues to grow.

According to data from the Azorean office of APAV (Portuguese Association for Victim Support), sons and daughters are the primary perpetrators or those responsible for abandonment. The most frequently reported form of abuse in the region is financial violence—the appropriation and control of elderly people’s retirement pensions by family members—often accompanied by neglect of basic care and psychological isolation. The profile of victims in the region is composed predominantly of women (approximately 75 percent of reported cases), generally between the ages of sixty-five and seventy-nine, and living in households marked by severe dysfunction.

Unless fate intervenes with unexpected accidents, all of us will grow old. The true tragedy lies in abandoning those who brought us into the world. In many cultures, old age is cherished, protected, and valued for the experience it carries.

There are limits to what governments can do. The contradiction is that in the Azores, within a society that remains predominantly religious and Catholic, these realities are not more openly addressed by the Church as part of its social mission and evangelization.

To discard a human being as though they were a single-use object is, without question, one of the greatest social crimes of our troubled times.

Even hospitals have become places where elderly fathers and mothers are simply “forgotten,” left behind in the care of hospital staff.

At the same time, lawmakers must enact stricter legislation to punish abuses against human dignity and personal integrity.

To discard or abandon a defenseless person is a crime against humanity—whether that person is a child or an elder.

José Soares is a contributing writer for several Azorean newspapers. He was an immigrant for many years before returning to São Miguel, Azores