This newsletter looks at issues and events from the endgame point of view. The endgame is a chess concept. In the endgame only a handful of pieces are left on the board. Few moves remain. Victory or defeat is close. Player options are limited and diminishing.
Toronto, April 16, 2023
The see-me-through dilemma
“Sans teeth.” It’s a phrase in Shakespeare’s famous “All the world’s a stage” speech from As You Like It. The soliloquy, by a character known as “melancholy Jacques,” is about the stages and depredations of aging. The seventh and last act of man, Jacques tells us, is “second childishness and mere oblivion; Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.” Here’s a picture of melancholy Jacques:
I love my dentist and trust him completely. I love and trust his dental hygienist even more. They make going to the dentist almost enjoyable (not quite). And I’ve been lucky with my teeth. For the most part, I’ve only ever had routine issues, the occasional filling, that sort of thing. But on my last visit, the dentist said, “That molar, it’s weak, I think you should have a crown. It’s not essential, but it’s a good idea. Let’s stave off possible future trouble.”
Was it really a good idea? Is a crown “age appropriate” for someone in the seventh act of man? A crown can easily last a decade or more and is not cheap. Dental work is stressful. Will a tooth without a crown see me through? Could I—should I—take a pass? How long would the tooth without a crown last?
Dental decisions like these are a luxury enjoyed by the relatively affluent or those with dental insurance. Many people don’t have a choice. They have to stick with what they’ve got and hope for the best. But if you do have a choice, then you confront the see-me-through dilemma. Or call it the green bananas rule, adapting a well-known and variously attributed proverb ("I'm so old, I don't buy green bananas anymore").
Is the game worth the candle? That can be hard to answer. There’s a tricky calculus to be made, weighing known costs and present desires against imprecise guesses and febrile hopes about an unknowable future.
In old age the see-me-through dilemma is everywhere. In the early 1990s my father ditched his ancient but functioning jalopy and bought a new car. He took me to see it parked in his driveway. He looked at it with pride. He was happy. “Nice car, Dad,” I said. “Yes,” he said, with satisfaction. “It’ll see me through.” It did. When he died a few years later, just before his 80th birthday, I sold the car for a couple of thousand bucks.
I think Dad made the right decision, if only because having a new car made him happy. Buying it probably didn’t make much economic sense. But intangible considerations can trump hard-assed economics. Does wearing that expensive new cashmere sweater make you feel better than if you had on a hoodie?
What’s the smart thing to do when considering acquiring something with a life likely longer than yours? If you’re a raddled eighty, is it reasonable to buy extended warranties for new appliances (or even to get new appliances in the first place)? Should you pay extra for a ten-year passport or settle for the cheaper five-year version?
The see-me-through dilemma is not the same as the puppy/kitten problem. Should an aged person get a puppy for company? In this case the welfare of another sentient life is at stake. Maybe you should get a potted plant instead. Although, even the puppy/kitten calculus can be complicated. What if you are rescuing an animal with otherwise gloomy prospects?
By the way, I got the crown. Here’s hoping it will see me through.
P.S. My new book is Antisemitism: An ancient hatred in the age of identity politics. You can get it at the usual places. Rhodes Connect, an international organization of Rhodes Scholars, recently chose Antisemitism as “book of the week.”
I'll second and third some of the comments below. Ha ha. I've been doing a lot of seeing-me-through thinking lately. When I saw a dentist a few weeks ago, she told me I need four crowns. The next day I lost a chunk of a tooth not even in the running.
ha, ha