At the Global Ageing Conference in Boston, I found myself not just attending a keynote but entering a new narrative; a reframing of ageing that challenges our assumptions and invites us to imagine a different future.
Dr. Joseph Coughlin, founder of the MIT AgeLab, delivered a speech that was both intellectually rigorous and emotionally resonant. It was, in his words, “a call to rewrite the story of old age.”
I then on Wednesday had the pleasure of visiting the Age Lab and spending time with Joe and his amazing colleagues including Fullbright Scholar Elisa Cardamone from Edinburgh’s Advanced Care research Centre where I am honoured to act as Chair of the Academic Advisory Board.
Coughlin’s work has long been about exploding myths. In The Longevity Economy, he writes:
“Oldness is a social construct at odds with reality that constrains how we live after middle age—and stifles business thinking on how to best serve a group of consumers, workers, and innovators that is growing larger and wealthier with every passing day.”
This idea – that ageing is not decline but transformation – resonates deeply with my own thoughts about how our Scottish Gaelic concept of dùthchas, the sense of rootedness, belonging, and identity shapes how we care.
In Boston, Coughlin reminded us that “after age 65, society says you’re done. But in reality, you’re very likely to live another 8,000 days.” That’s a third of a lifetime. What do we do with that time? What stories do we tell?
In Scotland, we are grappling with the crisis of social care. But as I’ve argued before, crisis can be the birthplace of creativity and the spark of innovation. Coughlin’s keynote and his recent book Longevity Hubs: Regional Innovation for Global Aging offer a blueprint for renewal. He and co-author Luke Yoquinto define a longevity hub as:
“Any hotspot characterized by a disproportionate level of innovative activity aimed at the older population and related markets.”
This is not just about technology it’s about storytelling spaces. Coughlin reminded us that “story is the most powerful technology in the world.” Storytelling spaces are the places where older adults co-create solutions, where care is not delivered but designed, and where ageing is not feared but embraced. He writes:
“Emerging longevity needs encompass not only health and wealth but also social and mental well-being.”
Imagine a Longevity Hub in the Highlands. A place where dùthchas meets digital. Where crofters, carers, technologists, and artists collaborate to reimagine ageing. Where the stories of elders are not archived but activated.
One of the most compelling metaphors Coughlin offered was that of a GPS for ageing. He suggests that the traditional map of ageing is outdated, built for a world where retirement was short, predictable, and largely passive. But today, with people living decades beyond retirement age, we need a new navigation system- one that reflects the complexity, diversity, and potential of later life.
“We’ve added more life to our years, but we haven’t updated the map. We need a GPS for ageing that helps us navigate not just where we’re going, but who we want to be.”
This metaphor resonates deeply with our Scottish experience. In rural communities, where dùthchas anchors people to place and tradition, ageing is not a linear journey but rather it’s a landscape of memory, contribution, and identity. But even here, the terrain is shifting. The old waypoints and markers of retirement, dependency, institutional care, no longer suffice. We need new coordinates.
Coughlin’s GPS is not just about direction- it’s about agency. It’s about giving older adults the tools to chart their own course, to make choices, to remain connected.
“The future of ageing is not about finding a destination- it’s about designing the journey.”
This invites us to think of ageing not as a descent, but as a pilgrimage – a journey rich with possibility, shaped by relationships, values, and aspirations. In Scotland, we might say that the GPS of ageing must be calibrated to our cultural compass: one that values community, intergenerational solidarity, and the wisdom of lived experience.
Without a new GPS, we risk getting lost in outdated assumptions.
“Most of our institutions—from housing to healthcare to transportation—are still designed for a world where ageing meant withdrawal. But today’s older adults are mobile, connected, and ambitious.”
Are we designing services that help people move forward, or ones that simply manage decline? Are we offering pathways to purpose, or just places to wait?
Coughlin’s work also highlights the power of women in the longevity economy.
“Women outnumber men, control household spending and finances, and are leading the charge toward tomorrow’s creative new narrative of later life.”
This is a call to listen more deeply to the voices of older women in our communities, those who are often the backbone of informal care, community leadership, and intergenerational connection.
He also dismantles the myth of the “average senior.” Just as 25-year-olds differ widely, so do 65-year-olds.
“There’s no one-size-fits-all senior. Yet businesses often lump everyone over 60 into the same box, leading to poor products and outdated messaging.”
This insight is vital for our policy and practice in Scotland. We must design for diversity, not age. We must move beyond the dependency ratio and see older adults as contributors, creators, and citizens.
Coughlin is clear:
“Technology without empathy is just engineering.”
This is a warning and a guide. In our rush to digitise care, we must not lose sight of the human. Smart homes, wearables, and AI can enhance independence but only if they are designed with dignity, inclusion, and story in mind.
In Boston, I heard stories of older adults using tech to stay connected to grandchildren, of care homes becoming design labs, of intergenerational teams solving problems together. These are not just anecdotes- they are narrative shifts.
I return to Scotland with a renewed conviction: that the renewal of social care begins with the renewal of story. We must tell better ones. We must listen more deeply. We must design not just for longevity, but for legacy.
Let us build our own GPS for ageing. Let us honour dùthchas. Let us co-create a future where ageing is not the end of the story, but the beginning of a new chapter.
As Coughlin writes:
“The longevity economy is not just about living longer—it’s about living better, with direction, dignity, and design.”
Let us chart that course. Let us tell those stories. Let us navigate the future of ageing with courage, creativity, and care.
Donald Macaskill
