Daily Archives: January 10, 2025

Book Review: Ron Manners’ Excellent ‘The Impatient Libertarian’

They’re libertarians and they don’t know it. That’s long been the view of Cato Institute co-founder Ed Crane. It’s what he expressed decades ago to recently passed Cato executive vice president David Boaz. Boaz was a conservative when he first met Crane, but Crane knew from their conversations that Boaz was a libertarian precisely because Boaz was for freedom of choice, the concept that animates libertarianism.

People should be free to live as they want, while owning the good or bad results of their individual decisions. How else for individuals to positively evolve?

In a policy way, most unwittingly express their libertarianism when they reveal disdain for the policies of whomever occupies the White House at any given time. A frequent libertarian response is that you don’t dislike the occupant as much as you’re troubled by how much power the occupant has.

It speaks to an animating principle of libertarianism in a U.S. policy sense: abide a Constitution that leaves the vast majority of policymaking to the states so that free people can choose their individual policy bliss. If policymaking is local, people per Crane can go to bed early on presidential election nights.

Crane’s thinking and more came to mind while reading prominent Australian businessman Ron Manners’ new book, The Impatient Libertarian: Which Road Ahead? Manners is the founder and former Chairman of Croesus Mining, a major gold producer, among a myriad of pursuits that includes his role as Chairman of the Mannkal Economic Education Foundation, a libertarian think tank.
Manners’ combination of private sector achievement with his passionate support of libertarianism is a way to pivot to someone Manners holds in high regard, Sir Antony Fisher (1915-1988). Manners writes in The Impatient Libertarian that in the aftermath of the 2nd World War, Fisher considered going into politics, only to be told by no less than Austrian school eminence Friedrich Hayek that “politicians are not leaders, they are followers.” Hayek’s point was that if Fisher really wanted to have a policy impact, it was essential that he “win the public,” after which politicians would follow.

Hayek added that it’s difficult to achieve anything without money. So true. Fisher took Hayek’s advice seriously, and went on to become the biggest chicken farmer in England. Fisher’s success enabled his founding of free market organizations Institute for Economic Affairs (UK), the Atlas Network (global), and also the Manhattan Institute. Hayek was right about the value of earning money first, but there was more.

As Manners recalls, upon entering the chicken farming business Fisher discovered that American chickens had twice as much meat on them. Fisher’s intent was to “bring back some of these chickens to breed in England, but his request was denied by the Egg Marketing Board.” Stop and think about that: a government-created entity meant to seemingly make markets regular? No wonder England was in so much economic trouble throughout much of the 2nd half of the 20th century.

What’s important is that entrepreneurs by their very name are rarely deterred by rules set up to make producers equal. Manners writes that “a week or two before Easter, Fisher went to America, got half a suitcase of fertilised eggs, wrapped them all up so that they looked like Easter eggs, brought them back in his bag, got them through Customs and started breeding super chickens, becoming the biggest chicken producer in the United Kingdom.” The proceeds from the eventual sale of the chicken business funded the aforementioned organizations founded by Fisher, but his business experiences plainly informed the passion that Fisher brought to the freedom and free market movement: he increasingly saw up close just how meddlesome government had become. In short, Hayek’s advice to Fisher was doubly good.
It should be added that Manners lived the advice Hayek gave to Fisher. As mentioned previously, he figured and figures prominently in Australian business, has innovated in all manner of ways (including double rollers for toilet tissue), plus he lived the absurdity of bureaucracy. Consider his description of how shipments made their way to his town of Kalgoorlie: “we tired of seeing the materials and equipment, ordered for the operating of the mining industry, coming through Kalgoorlie, non-stop, on the train. However, we were not permitted to take them off the train. It had to go to Perth (another day’s travel) and then be brought back, some three and a half weeks later to Kalgoorlie.” Manners “could not see the logic in this ‘Government Policy’” and many others. Like Fisher, his real world experiences have informed his attempts to shape ideas.
Manners’ book provides sketches of Fisher, along with Leonard Read (Foundation for Economic Education), John Hospers (libertarian scholar, Libertarian Party nominee for President of the United States in 1972), Friedrich Hayek, and Prince Philip (yes, that one), “the five individuals who have affected me the most, their influence deeply imbedded into Mannkal.” FEE (short for Foundation for Economic Education) is the best place to start, simply because it ties into this review’s introduction.
They’re libertarians and they don’t know it. It’s written here again. Applied to Manners, his father had a mining engineering business. Manners writes that after school he would work at the business, including “unpacking big machinery crates of Timken roller bearings from Ohio, USA.” What’s notable about this is that one afternoon while removing the roller bearings from the packing materials, Manners noticed “crumpled pages from a magazine.” He subsequently took them home, “and later that night smoothed them out to find that they were the pages of The Freeman magazine” published by FEE.
Manners deduced that Timken’s owner must have been a FEE supporter given his circulation of The Freeman. The main thing is that the magazine had a profound impact on Manners. He describes the thoughts within it as ‘new,’ but the speculation here is that Manners, like Boaz, was already a free thinker, after which the commentary about “business ethics, the moral foundations for capitalism, and the concepts of free markets and individual responsibility” that filled the pages of The Freeman came naturally to him.
About FEE and its founder in Leonard Read, Manners writes early on that Read “had the earliest impact on the development of my philosophical thinking.” Of greater importance, Manners describes Read’s belief that “there had to be a strategy in place to share” the ideas of liberty “in such a way that people were more receptive to them.” It all brings to mind a conversation Manners recalls with Hayek, one that seemingly ties the thinking of Hayek, Fisher, and Read together well.
As Hayek was making an economic point, he apparently was making it to Manners too quickly, too obscurely, or both. Manners stopped him, essentially asked him to slow down, and reminded him that “I’m not an economist!” Hayek responded with, “I’m glad you’re not an economist. We economists simply dream our ideas and think our thoughts, but business people like you go out and fire bullets.” Amen.
How it ties it some of the greatest influences on Manners beyond Hayek is that Hayek believed deeply a la Read that good ideas are just ideas absent reaching the people with them. That’s why Hayek wanted to keep Fisher out of politics, and in business. The business side would put Fisher in the position (and no doubt Manners too) to fund organizations meant to convey the ideas of liberty to the people, after which politicians would follow. Crane and Cato had a similar philosophy: rather than preach to politicians, they would bring the genius of liberty to the people through op-eds, white papers, books, and seminars around the U.S. and the world. Change the minds of the people, and politicians will follow.
Even better, the ideas of freedom are good ones. They’re great ones. It’s something I always remind my work colleagues of: we’ve got the easy job. Think about it. We’re making a case for individual liberty, while the opposition is arguing in favor of control from the proverbial Commanding Heights. We should pity them, all the while relentlessly making our case.
It’s a reminder of why Cato, Mannkal, FEE, Atlas, and other organizations like them are so important. Exactly because the philosophy that informs their commentary is rooted in individual freedom and free markets, it makes sense. Really, who could argue against the visible results of unfettered economic activity, but of much greater importance, who could argue with the genius of leaving people free to live as they wish? Crane in particular focuses on the individual freedom part of freedom and free markets advocacy not because he’s not a deep believer in free markets, but because he believes that individual freedom pre-supposes freedom of the commercial kind. Lightly paraphrasing Crane here: if people are free, they’ll have all the economic growth they could ever want.
One senses Manners thinks a lot like Crane, though with a variation or two that will be discussed at review’s end. For now, it’s useful too feature a comment from Manners that read to your reviewer as crucially important, and one that libertarians themselves would do well to internalize. And they should internalize it because it seems more than a few libertarians are getting squishy, or “yes, but” about immigration. They justify ever larger and more armed government to limit it with the justification that Milton Friedman once said, “you can’t simultaneously have free immigration and a welfare state.” The bet here is that if alive today, Friedman would say the quote attributed to him has been perverted by conservatives and libertarians alike. And if they’re not hiding behind Friedman to defend government-imposed restrictions, they excuse their own increasing comfort with government as rooted in their reluctance to allow in individuals from “statist” countries lest they bring those ideas with them to the U.S.
Manners’ answer to such nonsensical thinking can be found in his initial description of modern Australia, followed by what he writes subsequent to his description: “Australia has, until recently, been a relatively free society allowing individuals more room to manage their own affairs within stable and common law that avoids favouritism and protects life, liberty and property.” What’s most crucial is what follows. Manners adds that “as anyone may observe, those virtues are practiced most in countries to which refugees flee and least in countries from which they escape.” Yes!
Manners’ line is the best rebuke yet from a libertarian of libertarians prone to straddling the immigration question. They’re coming to the U.S., Australia, and other mostly free countries precisely because they’re attracted to the qualities informed by freedom and the rule of law that make those countries so great to begin with. In which case there’s no need to worry about “assimilation” and other excuses for more government, more restrictions, or both. By virtue of making their way to free countries, the escapees are revealing their preference for freedom. Or as Crane once put it to P.J. O’Rourke about Cuban refugees who battled shark-infested waters in order to get to Florida, they proved they were Americans by getting themselves to its shores. Stamp their passports.
As for the welfare angle that so many use, it’s utter nonsense that is revealed not just visibly by the tireless work ethic of immigrants, but empirically by the remittances home from those immigrants. In other words, the biggest driver of Mexico’s economy is neither oil nor tourism, rather it is economic activity that takes place in the United States the fruits of which are consumed in Mexico. Needless to say, Manners’s line about refugees and where they go will used by yours truly for a long time to come.
Moving to John Hospers, he’ll forever be an answer to a trivia question about who the winner was of one electoral vote in a 1972 presidential election won in a landslide by Richard Nixon. Hospers also secured 3,971 actual votes.
What appealed to Manners most of all about Hospers was his “elevation of heroic self-responsibility.” Critics thought the latter “unspeakably evil,” but Manners wisely found good.
Which brings us to Prince Philip. On its face, how interesting. Or better yet, who knew? Though from a Tina Brown book about the royals, some of the quips from Prince Philip gave off the impression of a free thinker. Which may or may not be the point.
As Manners explains it, Philip was the opposite of the philosophical Hospers. What Manners deems a libertarian mind within the royal wasn’t driven by “a deep interest in philosophy and economics,” but instead “a firm commitment to achieving outcomes.” Explained more simply, Prince Philip was “100% strategy.” And he was effective with his “just getting on with it approach” to outcome.
In particular, he organized Commonwealth Study conferences “to look into the tensions, problems, and opportunities created by the dichotomy between industrial enterprise and community development.” More specifically, the Prince thought progress could be had if the “warring parties” got together and bonded.
Back to Hayek, Manners helpfully includes the comments from Keynes to Hayek about The Road to Serfdom, that “morally and philosophically I find myself in agreement with virtually the whole of it.” Keynes was so much better than his disciples whom he properly described as “fools” in a later interview conducted by Hayek. Beyond that, it would be interesting to ask Manners if he worries about many of the disciples of Hayek and Mises, and whether or not the “fools” description applies to some of them. I say yes.
Most pertinent about Hayek is that Manners writes of how he wanted his insights “to be understood by us all, and most importantly, he wanted to see them implemented.” Were they? I say yes? Cato, IEA, Mannkal, and the freedom movement broadly won, and won big.
All it takes to see this is to look back to the 1970s in the U.S., and to some of the Australian leaders whom Manners plainly disdained like Gough Whitlam and Bob Hawke. It’s difficult to imagine either being elected in Australia today, while in the U.S. it’s easy to forget that in the 1970s ownership of a telephone was illegal, gasoline prices were controlled and gas frequently sold on an odd/even day basis, air travel was centrally planned by the Civil Aeronautics Board, top tax rates were as high as 70%, and most damning of all, it was accepted wisdom among the vast majority of economists that the Soviet economy rivaled that of the U.S. Yes, freedom and free markets won. And they once again won big.
Which brings up some disagreements with Manners, disagreements that it seems Crane might share. With his contention that the left have fought the free market right via “cultural/philosophical terms” that has included their bastardization of “progressive,” the normally ebullient Manners laments that “No wonder they have won the culture wars.” I don’t think so. See above, but also see how they’ve had to bastardize “progressive” in the first place all the while adopting various acronyms like ESG and DEI to hide their true intentions. That’s not the stuff of winners, after which a decades-long march of equity markets upward (since the early 1980s) signals that a marketplace comprised of all known information sees the free market side as the big winner yet again.
After Manners’ surprising conclusion about culture wars that he and others won, the great Australian businessman and thinker digs himself into the government deficit and debt trap throughout the book. So many libertarians find their way to this same trap, though not Crane. I’ll wager Manners too could be convinced that a focus on deficits and debt is worse than a trap, it’s also a distraction. Please read on.
And in reading on, it will be said up front that government spending is the most hideous, economy-sapping tax of all. Which is why I’m eager to convince Manners to at least contemplate another way of thinking about it. Manners laments politicians “unable to hold back from advocating for spending vast quantities of our future generation’s earnings to repay the crippling debt they have accumulated whilst buying votes to remain ‘in power.’”
First off, Manners arguably shouldn’t concede so much. Government spending is central planning of precious resources. Which means it’s a wet blanket on freedom and growth always and everywhere. Yet people want freedom adn growth. It seems the real vote buying would be had in politicians spending less.
Second, the “crippling debt.” How could it be? Manners is from the private sector, so he knows how difficult capital is to attain whether it’s individuals or businesses. In the real world occupied by Manners, money is never “easy.” What’s important about this is that governments only have money to spend insofar as they have taxable access to the earnings of their citizenry. Which is just a comment that the surest sign debt in a country like the U.S. isn’t “crippling,” is all the debt. There’s quite simply no way the world would line up to buy U.S. debt at such low interest rates unless those buyers operating in the world’s deepest market had a strong impression that the U.S. can and will pay it off with ease.
All of which speaks to the real problem with the debt. It’s not the debt run up by countries at low rates of interest that signal future ease of paying it off, but the massive governments being left behind to future generations. Crucial there is that the spending is our burden now, and also that of future generations that will inherit massive governments in concert with societies that are much less advanced than they otherwise would be if governments were smaller.
From all this, some will conclude that countries have large deficits and debt because they overspend. No, that’s backwards. Borrowing is an effect of the market’s belief in an individual, business, or country’s ability to pay it back. Put another way, the U.S. doesn’t have soaring debt because it overspends, but because lenders are confident that the U.S. Treasury will take in enormous amounts of tax revenues in the present, and exponentially greater amounts in the future. Yes, the problem is too much tax revenue now and the expectation of much more tax revenue in the future.
This is important because left, right, supply side, and libertarians continue to make deficits and debt about too little taxation (the left), too little taxation and too much spending (right and libertarians), and too much taxation that is keeping tax revenues too low (supply side) on the way to deficits and debt. They’re all wrong. As we see in the private sector all the time, those who can borrow with ease have high incomings now, and the expectation of much higher incomings in the future. If we want to bring down government spending and debt we must crucially bring taxes so low that tax revenues actually fall, and with it, willingness among lenders to lend to our governments.
It seems Manners would be open to such an argument, and perhaps persuaded? He writes of governments “having got themselves into debt” before declaring “partial bankruptcy” via devaluation, but if the latter were the norm then it’s safe to say there would be very little government debt. Few offer up capital with an eye on not getting it back, and we’ve seen this up close in the U.S.: In 1980 the U.S. had total debt of $900 billion and yields on our 10-year Treasuries were 11%. Forty-four years later, and there’s $36 trillion of debt. Yet the 10-year yields 4.68%. The problem is governments aren’t bankrupt enough, and markets signals are confirming this truth.
Beyond disagreement about the debt, in writing about it the joyous, freedom-loving, freedom-winning Manners at times gives off the impression of pessimism. It doesn’t read like him. Manners explains his impatience early on in the book as a function of looking around, and seeing “governments growing in scope, national debt soaring and entitlement and authoritarianism on the rise.” No, think of how far we’ve come. Manners should be bursting.
To pick up his excellent book is to get the feeling of a happy warrior who sees a bright future, a future that Manners did so much to create. Stick to the positive, I say. Our argument is the winning one, and Manners et have done a great deal win the argument. It seems we could even win the deficit and debt argument if willing to make it about how we’re all overtaxed. Would Manners agree? Hopefully more books are coming from him that will address so much more.

Book excerpt: “Brooke Shields is Not Allowed to Get Old”

Flatiron

We may receive an affiliate commission from anything you buy from this article.Brooke Shields has written two New York Times bestsellers that recount a life lived in the public eye, and of the challenges faced in private, whether it be post-partum depression or the loss of her mother. In her latest, “Brooke Shields is Not Allowed to Get Old: Thoughts on Aging as a Woman” (‎to be published January 14 by Flatiron Books), the model, actress and entrepreneur writes about the wrinkles that come with society’s expectations of women as they reach or surpass “a certain age.”Shields, who will turn 60 in May, says that external perceptions don’t match up with her internal sense of self, and that later years are something “to enjoy and revel in, not something to merely survive.” She also notes how society’s ignorance of the power (not to mention the purchasing power) of women middle-aged and older is short-sighted at best. Read the book’s introduction below, and don’t miss Faith Salie’s interview with Brooke Shields on “CBS Sunday Morning” January 12!”Brooke Shields is Not Allowed to Get Old”Prefer to listen? Audible has a 30-day free trial available right now.IntroductionThe first time it hit me that I had reached “a certain age” was while strolling through the streets of downtown New York with my daughters. They are, if I may be so bold, stunning girls. Rowan is a strawberry blonde with curves to die for; Grier is six feet tall, all legs, and towers over me. They’re also funny, fiercely intelligent, thoughtful, and kind, though I guess those traits are less obvious to the casual observer. On this particular day, we were walking side by side, me in the middle, and it was impossible not to notice the admiring looks from various passersby. Over the years I’ve become used to being recognized on the street, but this time was different: the looks weren’t cast in my direction, but at the two beauties by my side. I had every single feeling, all at once. What are you doing ogling my babies I will cut you but also aren’t they gorgeous but also, wait, no one’s gazing at me? When did that happen? Am I over? Protectiveness, pride, melancholy—it all smacked me upside the head in one quintessential New York minute. There was also the time I was doing a photo shoot, and after a couple shots I took a peek at the monitor. “I think there’s some dust on the camera lens,” I said to the photographer, pointing to a weird line on my cheek. His response was something to the effect of a pitying “Awww, you’re cute.” There was no dust. That “something” was a wrinkle. I didn’t have my first child until I was thirty-seven. I went through a hard time after I had Rowan, suffering from postpartum depression, which I wrote about in my first book, Down Came the Rain. But with the help of good medical professionals and the right medication, I felt like myself again, more or less, by her first birthday. I had Grier when I was forty, and the ensuing decade felt, in a word, playful. That was a brand-new feeling for me. I remember thinking in my forties, This isn’t old at all! This is fun! Keep in mind, I’d been treated like an adult (and was expected to behave like one) since I was a kid. At forty, it was as though my biological age finally aligned with the age I’d felt for decades. I felt mature yet still playful. I was firing on all cylinders, and at the risk of sounding like Maria von Trapp, the world seemed full of possibilities. I felt like I was being primed for a moment when I could finally pat myself on the back and say “You’ve earned it!” if I chose to take a break. Plus, I’d arrived at a place of self-acceptance. I actually liked my body and no longer compared it to the runway models. (I never did runway and believed those girls were “skinny,” whereas I was considered “athletic”—in my modeling days, a euphemism for “not skinny.”) At forty, relieving myself of being compared to others felt like freedom. Mine was a body to be proud of. This body gave me babies! This body could dance! I had curves and was okay with that! It wasn’t exactly “I am woman, hear me roar,” but I certainly felt like, “I am woman, hear me more.”

And yet, as my forties progressed into my fifties, I began to notice that external perceptions didn’t seem to match up with my internal sense of self. My industry no longer received me with the same enthusiasm I had come to expect. The vibe from casting agents and producers, but also my fans, was more: you need to stop time … and maybe even reverse it. Case in point: at a routine dermatological appointment (to get a mole checked out), the doctor, unsolicited, waved his hand around my face and said, “We could fix all that …”  “All what?” I asked. “You know, all the”—cue more hand waving—”you know.” What the hell? Who asked for your opinion? I thought as I heard myself say, “Thank you, but not yet.” Maybe it took seeing myself through the eyes of other people to fully understand that, in fact, I was entering a new era of life. I mean, I was aware that some things were changing. I get tired now in a way I never did before. I literally can’t read the fine print, and I hate it. I used to get mad at my mom for always misplacing her reading glasses, and now it’s me saying “Grier, honey, have you seen my readers?” I like doing needlepoint and puzzles, which admittedly feels a bit geriatric. Am I in my mahjongg era?? I need 2.5s for these granny activities! And yes, sometimes I put on a pair of pants that once fit, and think, God, this used to be so much easier. Or I watch my kids, who can sleep until noon without stirring at the garbage trucks or sirens outside, and think, Ah, youth. There was a time when I could go to bed without taking a pill or being up for hours in the middle of the night, what was that like? And though these shockingly beautiful young women spend hours in front of the very mirrors I try to avoid, they still don’t realize how fresh and perky and unaffected by gravity their bodies are—just like we didn’t at their age. (I mean, the butt and the boobs! How did I not appreciate that when I had it?) They complain that they hate their legs, whereas my knees are now practically lower than my calves. How is that even a thing? We are always chasing, never appreciating, and what runs through my mind is, Ugh, where is the justice?? Why are we forever criticizing ourselves and our bodies while seeking ridiculous perfection? Why do we never see how unique and special we are? And why, when we finally take the pressure off or count our blessings or just enjoy who we are, is it practically too late? But while I don’t feel as invincible as I did in my youth, I also don’t feel fifty-nine. When I was a kid, fifty-nine seemed so OLD, but it sure doesn’t feel old to me now! When I say my age out loud, I know it may sound old to some people, but I truly don’t feel, in any way, aged. Aging is a journey full of contradictions, especially in America. It’s humbling and surprising and empowering and daunting and liberating. In plenty of cultures, older people are revered. In Korea, the sixtieth and seventieth birthdays are considered major life events, marked by parties and feasts. In Native American communities, elders are often referred to as “wisdom-keepers”—they’re considered community leaders. In India, elders have the final word in family disputes. In the Henchy-Shields household, on the other hand, this elder is constantly told, “Mom, you just don’t get it!”

In fact, a March 2023 cover story of the American Psychological Association’s Monitor on Psychology described ageism in America as “one of the last socially acceptable prejudices.” Brands trip over themselves to capture the coveted eighteen-to-thirty-four demographic, even though surveys have found it’s women over forty who have the most purchasing power: we have accumulated wealth, and we’re making 85 percent of the household-buying decisions. The numbers for women over fifty are even more staggering: We control a net worth of $19 trillion, and spend 2.5 times that of the average person. Women in their forties and fifties are treated like we’re invisible, even though we’re one of the fastest-growing demographics in the country. (One in four Americans is a woman over forty.) We are ignored by brands, and when we are targeted, it’s for wrinkle cream or menopause supplements. Talk about shortsighted. This notion of invisibility is so widespread, so pervasive, that it has become the namesake of a social phenomenon, aptly dubbed “invisible woman syndrome.” The gist? When we are no longer deemed sexy or able to contribute to society by birthing and raising young children, our value diminishes. We are overlooked, ignored, or worse, not seen at all. And the older we get, the more extreme it gets. An analysis of nearly eleven thousand ads featuring over twenty thousand people in 2021 and 2022 found that those featuring women over sixty years old amounted to a whopping 0.93 percent of all advertisements. You read that right: less than one percent of all advertisements feature women over sixty, even though the 2020 census found that one in six people in America is over sixty-five. According to a survey of women over forty by the advertising agency Fancy (which is specifically focused on marketing to a female audience), most women over forty feel that brands “underestimate their spending power and intelligence while overestimating their preoccupation with appearance.” We are, it turns out, more than just a demographic obsessed with looking younger. We embody vitality. We are smart and vibrant and powerful and ambitious. We are experienced, confident, capable, and complicated. We are running s**t. The truth is, I still can’t quite get over that I’m using words like “aging” and “elder” in the same breath as I talk about myself and my friends. I’m not even sixty! I may not be playing the ingénue or the girl next door or even the first love, but I’m not exactly the grandmother in Titanic. And yet, no one knows what to do with me. After all, Brooke Shields is not allowed to get old. The sixteen-year-old Calvin Klein model? Time magazine’s face of the ’80s? It’s sacrilegious! I remember seeing a picture of what Marilyn Monroe would look like if she were still alive today, and it was truly impossible to wrap my head around. But she died looking like Marilyn Monroe. For me, as my body and face change in all the ways they should (don’t get me started on my thinning, graying eyebrows), there is this sense of How dare you? That was never the plan, young lady! And, to be totally honest, there have been times when it’s made me feel like a disappointment. Maybe you’ve felt this way, too—maybe you were an athlete in your youth, singled out for your form and speed, and now you can still swim or run or play tennis or whatever, but not at the same level. You’re still strong, but you had the audacity to grow older, to change, to slow down a bit, to not die young or stop aging entirely. You survived, and it should be celebrated, and yet there’s a sense that you’re not as valuable or exceptional as you once were, and therefore you’re letting people down. And these reactions can cause us to feel disappointed in ourselves, too. I look back sometimes and feel like I’ve done something wrong because I no longer have the body or the face that I used to have. And yet, if I did anything drastic to hold on to my looks from my youth or to stop aging, I’d be judged or chastised for that, too. Generally speaking, at fifty-nine, I feel more confident than I ever have. I’m more comfortable in my skin and have stopped comparing myself to this ideal or worrying about that expectation. But I’ll admit that even as I’m experiencing this newfound sense of satisfaction, I have to remind myself, sometimes daily, that I am good enough. The old negative tapes are lying in wait in the Walkman (remember those!?), ready for me to press play at any moment. But I also realize that if I don’t wear makeup or the “right-sized jeans and someone has a problem with it, that’s on them. And yes, I continue to exercise and take care of my skin, but I think of it now as a privilege, because it makes me feel better. Do I sometimes wish that all my bits had remained higher and perkier? Or that I had the same skin that appeared on the cover of Life magazine in 1983? Of course I do! Who doesn’t miss the gifts of youth? But this is a body—and soul—that has carried me through a lot, and I’m not ashamed to admit that I think I deserve some credit for this life well lived. We do all this work and get through hard times and suddenly you have a line on your face, and that one little wrinkle carries more weight than decades of accomplishments.

I’ll tell you, it took me a long time to have the guts to say that I deserved a bit more respect. Something began to shift in me around age forty. I started to own myself and my narrative in a new way. I’m not sure what it was that finally clicked, though becoming a mother probably had something to do with it. What I do know is that gaining that deeper sense of identity allowed me to speak up when others tried to diminish me. It’s allowed me to look within and identify patterns and break cycles. It’s allowed me to take on new risks and challenges. I know who I am and what I have to offer, and I’ve stopped hoping or trying to be different, or something that I’m not. Of course, as proud as I am of how far I’ve come … there is still so much that I want to do. I want to pile into a camper with my daughters and my husband and take a cross-country road trip (although we’d probably end up killing each other, and the romance of the Porta Potti would surely wear off quickly). I want to learn to play an instrument. I want to get back to being fluent in French (it was my college major, after all). I want to travel to places I haven’t been. The list goes on. All of this is doable, because there’s a lot of freedom that comes with age. It’s more fun to take a dance class when you can truly let yourself dance like no one is watching. It’s more fun to go out with friends when you aren’t worrying if you said the wrong thing or if people are talking about you behind your back. It’s more fun to go to a restaurant alone when you realize that no one is wondering why you don’t have a companion … that no one is looking at you at all, because they’re all dealing with their own s**t. And while, yes, my body is a little creakier than it once was, and it’s not as easy to lose weight, the truth is I can still do almost everything I used to do. And the things I can’t, well, I don’t really want to. I don’t want to surf … I don’t want to ski, unless it’s somewhere sunny and the trail is long and relatively flat—I just don’t feel like exposing myself to freezing temperatures, fighting scary moguls, and navigating with the gear. But I don’t feel limited. I’m happy that, at least for me, the moment for more intense, competitive activities has passed, and the moment for new emotional beginnings has arrived. I don’t have to prove myself anymore. This is it. This is me! And if there is something I want to change, then I can make the decision to do so. What I’ve come to realize—not only from my own lived experience but also from conversations with other women my age—is that these “later” years are all about coming into your own and pivoting in the directions you’ve always wanted to go. You can finally live the life you intended to, because you no longer have to act in accordance with external timelines, something that is part and parcel of being a woman. I don’t have to get married by this date or have kids by this age or get a certain job before that milestone. My time is my own. And yet— this newfound gift has come as a bit of a surprise. After all, the narrative we’ve been served for years is that it’s all downhill for women after a certain age. As I hit my midfifties, I grew increasingly curious about the disconnect between how this age feels and how it’s portrayed in our culture and society. I talked to other women my age who felt the same tension I did— both personally empowered and systemically dismissed. And this idea of being collectively ignored … it irked me. I started connecting even more with women over forty, online and on social media, because I wanted to dig into what makes aging hard and what makes it great. What began as an online community to discuss health, aging, sexuality, relationships, and just plain living—to dish about all those things you can’t say to anyone except your closest girlfriends—evolved into a hair-care brand, Commence, and a new business. So here I am, a first-time CEO in my fifties, inspired to start a business—and write a book!—all because of society’s most uninspiring take on women my age. My first two memoirs, Down Came the Rain and There Was a Little Girl, were at their core about overcoming obstacles: first, postpartum depression, and second, losing my mom. But there is nothing to “overcome” about aging. That’s the whole point! This time of our lives is something to enjoy and revel in, not something to merely survive. So if those books were about how I persevered through tough moments, this one is about how I took ownership and agency of a moment I’d been told would be tough, but really is rich and complex. But come on, life is complex. This book is about embracing an era that has been billed as an obstacle when, in reality, it’s a stimulus. Yes, it has new and difficult challenges, but it doesn’t have to be viewed as torture or a time to throw in the towel. I’m not trying to stave off this period, or deny it, or pretend I’m not in it. I’m taking the whole mess of it and reminding myself, and hopefully other women, that we have the elements we need to thrive. The story we’ve been told is, in a word, bulls**t. We are the narrators of our next chapters. For too long, women have talked about aging only in whispers and behind closed doors. Maybe it’s because we’ve been embarrassed or ashamed. Maybe it’s because we don’t think anyone would want to hear what we have to say. These are understandable responses to our treatment by society, but they only serve to keep us isolated and disempowered. Recently, I had the pleasure of attending an intimate “couch conversation” with Gloria Steinem where she was talking about the challenges of being a woman today. The younger women in the room were eagerly asking her, “But how can we fix it? How can we be a force for change?” And she reminded us that “every important movement started in a room like this—in a basement, or a living room.” When we step out from behind those closed doors and use our voices to talk about the misunderstandings, the underestimations, we’re already starting to change them. Maybe even fix them.

As far as I can tell, these decades in our lives are a time to be celebrated. Sure, there will be some hot flashes (been there!), but we can wear layers. (Or take hormones, which I have done, but more on that later.) I can tell you that the discomfort of those moments is far outweighed by the delight that comes from making intentional friendships, pursuing new interests, discovering our peak confidence, and giving ourselves permission to make changes to our lives. In 2023, my dear friend Ali Wentworth produced a documentary, Pretty Baby, about my life. Watching it, and seeing just how much I’ve been through, I couldn’t help but feel proud. I’m not saying everyone should make a documentary about their lives, but I hope you can look back at how far you’ve come, how much life you’ve lived in order to get to this moment, and give yourself credit for the feat that it is. And then I hope it gives you the jump start you need to figure out how to enjoy this new stage of your life. Because the time is now! If there is something you want to change, now’s the time to change it. If there’s something you want to stop, now’s the time to stop it. If there’s something you want to do, now’s the time to do it. Being relegated to the sidelines, as misguided as it is, also offers us more room to fully be ourselves. There’s less pressure. We can push boundaries when we’re moving through the world without the watchful eyes of, well, everyone. In Why We Can’t Sleep: Women’s New Midlife Crisis, author Ada Calhoun reconsiders all the so-called negatives of getting older. “Could we see … our newfound midlife invisibility as a source of power?” she writes. “There are great advantages to being underestimated. Two of the best reporters I know are women in their fifties. They look so friendly and nonthreatening, if you notice them at all. They can lurk in any room without usually wary people remembering to keep their guard up. Then they write devastating whistle-blowing articles. The world ignores middle-aged women at its peril.” At fifty-nine, I’m the one making the calls in my life—not my mother or the media or Hollywood or my family—which is something I’ve never felt before. And this should be true for all of us. It doesn’t matter what you’ve done, or what you think you’ve done (good or bad), or even what you always wanted to do. This is a new time. The same rules don’t apply. Is that disorienting? Maybe, but I like to give it a different spin: We can make our own rules. Excerpted from “Brooke Shields is Not Allowed to Get Old.” Copyright © 2024 by Brooke Shields. Excerpted by permission of Flatiron Books, a division of Macmillan Publishers. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher. Get the book here:”Brooke Shields is Not Allowed to Get Old”Buy locally from Bookshop.org

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