Noah Sheidlower

I talked to over 300 Americans. Retirement at 65 is no longer the goal.

For Brian Burdick, working at 82 has been one of life’s most surprising joys.

The Wichita, Kansas, resident spent his early career making airline parts and selling insurance. A series of personal upheavals — an injury in his 50s, a costly divorce, his sister’s death, and a house fire — left him with little savings and a mound of financial stress. He became a school bus driver and worked evenings at a department store to “just survive,” he says.

Years of chugging along the route have finally paid off: His $28-an-hour pay, coupled with his monthly Social Security check, means work is less about the money and more about the role he can play in thousands of young lives, even if finances are still tighter.

“I’ve taught autistic kids to talk. I’ve dealt with the very worst kids in the whole system, and I’ve changed a lot of them,” Burdick says. “I saw a piece on how to have a happy life. It was someone to love, something to do, and something to look forward to. I have an excuse to get out of bed.”


Brian Burdick

Brian Burdick has driven a school bus in his 80s. 

Brian Burdick



Burdick is part of a growing cohort of Americans who, whether by choice or necessity, are deviating from the retire-at-65 standard. Fewer people are simply working 40 years, stepping away as Social Security kicks in, and then riding out their golden years. Over the last two years, I’ve interviewed more than 200 people who are still working past 80, and dozens more who retired in their 30s and 40s. Collectively, their stories lay bare how the traditional retirement path has withered away for millions of Americans.

As I reported in my “80 Over 80” series, 4.2% of the 80+ population still works, up from 3% in 2010, based on an analysis of Census data. The 75+ workforce is the fastest-growing of all demographics, while roughly one in five Americans 65+ works, double the rate in the 1980s. On the younger end, the FIRE (financial independence, retire early) movement has gained momentum as financial education moves into the mainstream. A 2023 survey of over 2,000 respondents conducted by The Harris Poll found that a quarter wanted to retire before turning 50, though the number who actually pull it off is much lower.

The people trying to retire by 35 and those still working at 85 had different reasons for their shared disillusionment with the old standards — general economic woes, fear of the job market, longer life spans, the rising costs of owning a home, childcare, and groceries, and the pushing back of life events like marriage or having kids. But both generations shared a feeling that work isn’t simply a means to an end, but rather part of the means itself. Instead of marking time, people are trying to live or be happy enough in their work that it doesn’t feel like a slog. What’s the point of life if you don’t enjoy most of it? There isn’t much of a point in just expecting life to get better at 65 when nothing fundamentally changes about who you are once you hit that milestone.

While some people are happy to follow the old ways — the average age of retirement in America is 62 — the growing extremes could offer a glimpse into what some retirement experts told me is the slow demise of the current retirement model and the redefining of what work means in our lives.

The (un)lucky few who work into their 80s

Vicki Vosper-Fenton considers herself a late bloomer. After raising her children, navigating a divorce, and jumping between jobs, she went to college at 40 to become a counselor. She worked at a domestic violence shelter and a women’s prison, then pivoted to an alternative school and a mental health nonprofit. It was a fulfilling career that left her with a comfortable pile of savings by 63. A traditional retirement full of bridge or cribbage wasn’t in the cards, though. At 81, a few years after decamping to Idaho, she still juggles two jobs as an online teacher and genealogist for her church, social engagements, and family time, having “the time of my life.”

“Serving others in whatever capacity just simply brings joy to my life and keeps me young,” Vosper-Fenton says. She added, “I’ve decided to mentally be 55. I don’t go to the senior citizen centers because I’m too young.”

America’s oldest workers repeatedly tell me they’re too young, agile, and healthy to simply ride off into the proverbial sunset. Vosper-Fenton’s financially unshackled non-retirement represents the positive side of moving away from the age-65 expectation, but many older workers face a very different reality. Some I spoke to broke into tears when they talked about the strain of their working conditions, sometimes waking up at 4 a.m. or coming home at 2 a.m. Some explained how they were in agony, having to do physical labor. Many wished life had been fairer.

Still, every worker saw at least some sort of silver lining. Beyond helping their communities, most mentioned working to show their peers and younger generations that they were capable. Many mentioned friends withering away shortly after stepping away from work entirely. They wanted to be role models for their grandchildren, inspirations for their friends, and the faces of their companies, showcasing that age shouldn’t be weighed so heavily.

Serving others in whatever capacity just simply brings joy to my life and keeps me young

As a few put it, these were their golden years of work.

And many have a reason for thinking this. Stronger labor laws, greater educational opportunities, and more advanced technology have made work overall safer and healthier, though people have always sought purpose in their work, said Robert Bruno, director of the Labor Education Program at the University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign. Bruno added that while today’s work options are more diverse, there isn’t a meaningful correlation between age and how work is perceived. There still are some differences, though.

Among younger workers, “there was this more conscientious approach to thinking about a balance between their hours on the job and how that fed into the rest of their life, whereas older workers just seem to have accepted what the hours were, and then would go about figuring it out,” Bruno said.

For Jim Billman, 83, working a few hours a week has filled some holes in his life. He worked in construction and teaching for years, and since 2013, he’s worked part-time in construction and hotel maintenance in Michigan. He needed the extra income until recently, but he’s cut back on hours. With the extra time, he’s tried to stay active, see his family, and be present in his community.

“I’ve done some pretty risky stuff in my life — dodging bullets, climbing on and building roofs, sawing, scaffolding, and motorcycles,” Billman said. “I don’t suppose I’ll spend much time on roofs or ladders other than my own. A person tries to be careful and stay within their capabilities. I’ve never been a daredevil.”

The young workers hoping to feel similarly

Many on the other side of the age spectrum had visions of work similar to those of people three times their age. Some in the FIRE movement have forged a path to not need to work. Many others, though, worked hard or spent years studying financial principles to work a job they want.

The FIRE movement, many said, is much more about staying engaged with careers that matter. Some who reached FIRE have taken on less stressful and more community-oriented jobs. Others have started businesses tied to lifelong passions. Some told me they retired at 30 and are blogging their travels around the world, have opened a consulting company, or have gone into real estate full time. Others are Coast FI, meaning they invested enough early in life that they could live off the growth of their nest egg rather than future contributions. For many, the RE in the FIRE acronym often doesn’t mean a full retirement, but it does mean getting off the hamster wheel before 65.

“Retirement equals a full-funded lifestyle change,” said Amanda Walt, 33, who works in Boston as a tech program manager and, with her husband, has a net worth in the low seven figures. “Shifting away from ‘retirement means never working’ has also enabled me to take intentional career breaks that have accelerated longer-term growth.”

In 2025, Ewa Linn, 37, worked only about a quarter of the year. “Time is the scarcest resource,” says Linn, adding that “memories pay dividends.” She was laid off during the Great Recession from her first job in fashion, and stumbled into freelance work after a series of rejections. After three years, she landed a full-time job, only to be frustrated by bureaucracy and a toxic work environment. After losing her job at the start of the pandemic, back to freelancing she went, producing photo shoots, project managing, and styling.

I’m at a point where I can either seek out jobs that pay less and don’t come with the stress of going after a high-paying job

Around that time, she started getting into the FIRE principles. In Jersey City, she and her husband increased their savings rate to 65%-75%, paid down debt, and house hacked, meaning they bought a property and live in one section while renting the rest. They put their money into index funds, maxed out their 401(k)s and IRAs, and were mindful not to overspend. By 2024, they hit their FIRE goal, meaning they no longer needed to work.

“We used to say yes to everything. We were in the rat race, trying to make this all happen. Now we don’t have to,” Linn says. “We only say yes to clients who are enjoyable and projects that fulfill us.”

Grant Sabatier, the author of the international bestseller “Financial Freedom,” retired at 30 and said the career grind often leaves little room for personal growth and new experiences. He added that achieving financial independence allows for greater balance between work, family, and personal fulfillment. Of course, many Americans are not in a position to achieve financial independence anytime soon, but many basic investing and saving principles could get people on the right track.

“Older people say, ‘I wish I would have spent more time with family, or I wish I would have not worked as hard or traveled more.’ A lot of people in the FIRE movement have internalized those lessons,” Sabatier says.

Meg Nichols, 31, has already taken two mini retirements — not including a gap year after college — and, by her estimates, will retire between 45 and 50. At 16, Nichols’ parents encouraged her to open a Roth IRA. After graduating from college, she became a sales team coordinator, then a senior account specialist, at a food tech startup in the Bay Area. After two years on the job, she gave up her apartment and took a six-month break to travel. Then, when the pandemic hit, she returned to her previous company for three years, leading e-commerce sales. Any extra dollar went toward maxing out her IRAs and 401(k) before filling her brokerage account. She estimated a post-tax savings rate of about 70%.


Meg Nichols

Meg Nichols traveled to 54 countries during a mini-retirement. 

Meg Nichols



In 2023, she had enough money to quit her job and go on a nearly-three year, 54-country backpacking trip. Thanks to compounding and keeping spending to about $3,000 a month, less than her monthly outlays in San Francisco, she came back to a net worth that is 20% higher than when she left. She recently started a new job in account management, a role she believes she’ll enjoy without it taking over her life.

“By being Coast FI, I enabled choice in my life and the option to take roles for a variety of reasons,” Nichols says. “It doesn’t have to be compensation-based.”

For many, the age 65 retirement is less of a goal and more of a burden. Some retirees I’ve spoken to over the past year said they felt pressured by society to stop working at that magic number, while others said it was a race against their biological clock.

Will the 65 number go away?

As more Americans adopt these two approaches, the question arises whether the traditional retirement age of mid-60s may be outdated. There are the academic debates: Economists and financial experts argue that maybe raising the standard expectation to 69 or 70, or indexing the retirement age to average life expectancy, could keep pace with the financial toll of living longer. Meanwhile, given that many Americans retire well before this age, often due to health factors, others argue that benefits should start earlier for more vulnerable populations.

For people living on both sides of this shift, though, 65 is increasingly an archaic benchmark. Some told me that assigning an arbitrary number to when is considered “proper” to retire just sets people up to fail. There’s little shame in not being ready to retire when the average person does, even if it’s stressful. Likewise, nobody should be forced out of work upon hitting a certain age. For those who retired early, they emphasized that there’s no reason to put off retirement planning, adding that many people wait until their 30s or 40s to reach a solid savings number by 65.

Life is unpredictable, they said, so planning to retire at 65, only to have dreams crushed by a life emergency or a layoff, can be even more crushing. Finding purpose through work and outside the 9-to-5 grind is perhaps the most important step to a good life, many agreed, even if it means years of sacrifice or a walker.


Noah Sheidlower is a senior economy reporter with Business Insider covering retirement, aging, and employment trends.

Business Insider’s Discourse stories provide perspectives on the day’s most pressing issues, informed by analysis, reporting, and expertise.




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My parents had no retirement plans after selling their house. They now live in Airbnbs, and I’m worried about them.

Last fall, my mother was diagnosed with cancer, and, seemingly minutes later, my father had some heart problems and ultimately suffered a stroke.

I knew I was inching toward simultaneously caring for my young kids and aging parents. Suddenly, I was squarely in the sandwich generation.

I now had to deal with the terrifying reality that my parents did not have a plan for how to spend their retirement years — especially where they plan to live.

My parents had no retirement plans once they sold their house

As an only child, I have been aware that I might need to be more invested in my parents’ retirement plans, but I wasn’t prepared to feel like their therapist, estate planner, realtor, and case manager all in one.

My father’s unfortunate reality was that he had to retire while in the hospital recovering from his stroke. Like many men, my father struggles to find his identity outside work.

While I was home with my parents during my father’s recovery and before my mother’s cancer treatment, I broached the subject of their retirement plan by asking them about the sale of their home. They had long lamented that they no longer wanted to maintain their home. However, I did not realize how little my parents had discussed what would happen beyond this sale.

Once my mother and father recovered, they moved forward and sold their home in Florida. Shortly after that, they stayed near my family in Texas, in a long-term Airbnb. I soon realized they had no intention of settling.

They have since stayed in 15 Airbnbs.

Their planless lifestyle has continued to create issues

My parents like stability. I know that they don’t like living out of suitcases. They often go to an Airbnb in a new city and immediately contact the host about shortening their stay or finding a different place because they don’t like the area they are in. Additionally, they would rather have a plan, a home to call their own, and a city to set up some roots.

That’s why their Airbnb living doesn’t make much sense to me. When I push them to find a long-term plan, I realize they aren’t even having the conversation with each other.

The lack of actual conversations only came to a head when my father landed in the hospital again while traveling. Ultimately, my father learned he would need extensive open-heart surgery. They ended up going to the Cleveland Clinic and staying at two different Cleveland Airbnbs during their six-week stay, which, while you are recovering from open-heart surgery, is not necessarily the best plan.

When aging is avoided, it creates more issues

Going through all of these experiences with my parents has made it clear that avoiding retirement conversations can be rooted in other issues, like not wanting to face our mortality or that we might disappoint other family members by making a clear decision for ourselves.

It’s not like my parents don’t have a will or aren’t organized, and I am certainly lucky that they have saved diligently for their retirement.

I do not feel fortunate, however, about their lack of a concrete plan. As their only child with children of my own, the uncertainty of their future adds a layer of stress for me. I often worry about their Airbnb accommodations, whether the roads nearby are well lit, and whether they have social support nearby.

I suspect their decision to wing it has been driven by a desire to sidestep the discomfort of planning for one’s golden years. By opting to stick with short-term rentals rather than anything more permanent, they avoid confronting their own individual desires —and the risk that they might not be in alignment.

While I am only in my 40s, I am already working on a retirement plan. I am well aware that my children will have things to worry about; that just comes with the territory of aging parents. But confronting the inevitability of aging and embracing a concrete plan for my retirement is a gift I am giving to my children.

Having honest conversations about making definitive plans is incredibly challenging, but it also has huge payoffs: a season of life rooted in desire and as much agency as this time can offer.




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My dad died at 56 and never made it to retirement. The 3 lessons he taught me changed my own plans and perspective.

In 2023, my dad called to tell me he’d dropped down to four days a week at work.

He’d had a long career as an insurance underwriter, though it didn’t define him. At one point, he even left the profession to become a plasterer for a decade to better balance out his schedule. Still, it served him well enough.

“You really are getting old, then,” I joked. Dad laughed — he was only in his 50s.

We talked about his retirement and how he planned to wind down gradually over the next few years, before pulling the trigger and paying a full-time job’s worth of attention to the golf course.

That step was the first, and last dad took toward retiring. A year later, he told me he had cancer.

His diagnosis marked the beginning of a period in which I spent every day with him. He had been exceptionally fit, competing in triathlons, marathons, and Ironman races, but went from Hyrox to hospice care in just eight weeks.

Then on June 19, 2024, at the age of 56, Dad’s oesophageal cancer snatched away his future, and any prospect of a retirement.

I later realized our conversations during his illness were a textbook of the values by which he had lived his life. I’d heard him talk along similar lines in the past, but it wasn’t until I was lucky enough to spend each day for two months with him as his peer that I was able to distill them into three lessons.

Now, at the age of 32, these guide me in my career and life, and frame the way I think about retirement.

Live as if you might never make it


Man jumping in the air in front of a mountain

Dad while doing the Tour De Mont Blanc.

Callum Macauley-Murdoch



It may sound a morbid start, but I see this principle as both pragmatic and a call to action.

I see it as pragmatic because, of course, it is true: You might very well not make it to your retirement. And thinking about death in this way can help you take important practical steps, like ensuring you have an updated will and, at the very least, start thinking about granting powers of attorney.

And I see it as a call to action because, when loss helps you understand that life is precarious, it shines a light on how we often live without confronting the inevitability of death.

With that understanding, a more fulfilling life can emerge years earlier than it might otherwise have; one that, perhaps, you dreamed might come in retirement.

This principle led my dad to travel widely, a habit he passed to me. I’m due to visit New Zealand soon, the place he unknowingly took his final big trip. It also led him to take up the sports that piqued his interest over the years, and achieve a genuine sense of contentment.

It took me a lesson in the brutality of life, and the illuminating chaos of grief, to truly understand the importance of living it.

Build a life that gives you choices


Man on a bicycle

Dad finishing an Ironman in Wales.

Callum Macauley-Murdoch



One of the pitfalls of the first lesson is that, if taken literally, it could lead to financial ruin.

If it were a certainty I’d never make it to retirement, I’d spend everything I had now. However, in a classic catch-22, living life like I’d never make it there would delay my retirement in perpetuity.

So instead, I keep an eye on the future and try to resist the urge to part with all my money in exchange for experiences now, so that I can have some freedom of choice when I retire.

For Dad, working hard and getting an education meant having choices, and that influenced many of my decisions in life, including the one to pursue a career in corporate law.

In the end, that didn’t align with the life I wanted, but the experience gave me the skills and financial backing to choose a different legal career for myself.

Because of my job and savings I’ve built up from it, I had choices when Dad died. I was able to pause, reassess my life, and temporarily step away from my busy career.

During that time, I thought about how he used to ask me about work and I’d sometimes tell him how I wished I could just retire now to travel the world and write. He’d remind me I had a long way to go.

But now, those passions I always thought I’d save for later, like planning a trip to New Zealand or getting my master’s in creative writing, have become present pursuits.

Soon enough, though, I’ll pick up some legal work again. Why? Because unless I write a bestselling novel by the end of the year, I still want choices in retirement, should I make it there.

Find the adventure in everything


Man with hat on a mountain leaning on a stone

My dad on a hike at Arthur’s Pass in New Zealand.

Callum Macauley-Murdoch



Dad took a keen interest in all aspects of life, and didn’t take much of it seriously — because of that, not in spite of it, he was still successful in much of what he did.

This lesson applies to every aspect of life, including retirement, which I’m viewing as simply another opportunity to experience a new pocket of life.

It even applies to terminal illness. When my dad was nearing the end of his life, he said something in an attempt to comfort me, which has ended up being the most transformative lesson of the three.

“Life is one series of adventures. This is just another one.”

That impacted me profoundly, and taught me to seek joy even in life’s darkest corners.

These days, I view my retirement, career, and life much differently


Author Callum Macauley-Murdoch and his dad

Dad and I at my wedding.

Callum Macauley-Murdoch



Losing Dad changed how I think about my life, career, and the very concept of retirement.

Most of all, it prompted me to stop deferring what I truly wanted to my final years while still setting myself up to have choices in the future.

Now that I’m taking incremental steps towards something I’d be happy to do well into my old age, the dream of retirement crosses my mind less often.




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