Life in the Long Lane

THE 1970'S MAY have been uninspiring, the Pittsburgh Steelers and Calvin Klein not withstanding, but they did spawn two social phenomena likely to ripple through the 1980's and beyond. The first is a spreading fear that the human race has brought on its imminent destruction--thanks to (pick one) environmental disruption, the baseball strike, nuclear holocaust, or over-population. Doomsayers include the gloomy Limits to Growth study (on population), former President Jimmy Carter (on energy) and futurologist Herbert W. Armstrong, who once said 'all the prophesies have been fulfilled.' They have called for varying degrees of repentance and reform, to delay the inevitable catastrophe man's meddling has provoked.

The second trend couldn't be more different. Coming on the heels of the more public-minded 1960's, the '70s saw an upsurge of selfish attention to, well, the self. Voluminous bestsellers on exercise, fitness and sexual joy were snapped up like so many peanuts at a corner bar. And when John Q. Public wasn't eyeing his calories as instructed by countless handbooks, he was spending more money on outrageously expensive fashions than the entire race of Bedouins since their descent from Ham. Gurus of this 'Me Decade' stressed the gratification of the individual--particularly themselves.

HOW IT IS the 1980's, and Dan Georgakas has come along with an unusual line on our national madness. Georgakas has recently released The Methuselah Factors, a painstaking study that he modestly suggests unlocks "the secrets of the world's longest lived peoples." The first half of Georgakas' study examines, often laboriously, the claims and traits of those peoples reputed to be the world's longest-living cultures; the second half details his conclusions--and his tips on how you, too, can try to live beyond 100--with and without yogurt.

What makes The Methuselah Factor refreshing is that Georgakas has merged those two trends of the 1970's, concern for the future of humankind and aggressive me-ism, the Ishmael and Queequeg of this whale of a book. At times the book reeks of excess attention to individual concerns. Many of Georgakas' 'prolongevous' lessons would require people to pay such attention to lengthening their own lives that they could have little time or energy for passionate activism. He also largely dispels notions of national or racial bases for longevity, convincingly arguing that long-living communities can boast of unusual proportions of centenarians not because of genetic differences, but because of shared eating, sleeping, and other habits fostering long life.

Yet The Methuselah Factors is more than a handbook for living well into the 21st century. Had Georgakas confined his book to a 'how-to' guide for beating old age, he'd have succumbed to the same shortsightedness, triviality and impossible hypotheses that make calorie counters, exercise manuals and sex menus only marginally worthwhile. As he prescribes proper habits for today's would-be centenarians, Georgakas vigorously attacks America's carcinogenic and achievement-oriented society. That society's herky-jerk lifestyle, Georgakas argues, prevents people from attaining the relaxed routines that characterize his beloved oldsters.

He particularly blasts government for its half-hearted efforts to fund agencies like the Food and Drug Administration, which try to check pollution and the spread of carcinogens. And he berates the public for persistently ignoring sound advice on how to eat and live healthfully. But he reserves his strongest criticism for industries like the food industry, for its stubborn refusal to stop polluting and tampering chemically with its products. He notes, 'No fewer than 14 of the 16 approved food dyes of 1946 were banned as of 1980 on the ground that they were carcinogens. It seems clear that consumers are being asked to jeopardize their health in order to strengthen corporate balance sheets.'

In the end, Georgakas calls upon the would-be longevous to lead campaigns against environmental degradation. Health hazards threatening long life dominate workplaces in particular--and he urges workers in industries with 'clear and present dangers' to switch from toxic locales and jobs, among which he singles out nuclear power plants and petrochemical industries. Where do they go? That's their problem.

The government, Georgakas writes, is guilty of outright lying about the hazards of living near nuclear plants, and of callous insensitivity to government employees whose health was irreparably damaged by exposure to nuclear wastes, among them the army units dispatched during the 1950's into radioactive zones in a bravura effort by the U.S. to demonstrate safety. "Cancer rates among the exposed men have been far above the statistical norm, yet the afflicted soldiers have found it impossible to obtain government compensation. The same situation is likely to hold true for the eventual victims of the Three Mile Island incident and other accidents."

Along the way, Georgakas arrives at four general recommendations to increase one's lifespan. These include strict exercise regimens marked by rhythmic walking; diets with little meat and few additives; a stressless temperament devoid of vast emotional peaks and valleys; and avoidance of the environmental hazards he so bitterly criticizes.

Even with such steps, he acknowledges, few more than the .0004 per cent Americans who currently live to 100, will do so after reading his tome. But using Georgakas' "longevity agenda," perhaps someday someone will challenge the world's all-time documented record of 113 years and 214 days, set by one Delina "Grandma" Filkins (1815-1928). As Georgakas rightly stresses, such an individual feat may be possible only when people mobilize to oppose the hazards to healthy life that self-interested Big Industry and self-serving Big Government pose today.