None of us knows exactly how long we will live or how healthy we will be in the later stages of life. Yet, many societies have constructed their working lives around a single, delayed promise: that free time, rest, and the enjoyment of life will come after decades of labor. The traditional model assumes we work through our prime years—often overloaded with work, caregiving, and responsibilities—only to access true leisure once we reach our sixties. But what if that model is flawed? What if, instead, it would be more humane and ultimately more rational to redistribute some of that promised retirement time to earlier stages in life when we are healthier, more mobile, and more capable of enjoying it?
The concept of retirement is closely tied to the idea of compensation. After years of contributing to society through work, individuals are “paid back” in the form of a pension, financial support, and the time to do what they please. This model has long underpinned welfare systems and labor policies across the world. However, it is increasingly being challenged by changing demographics, economic pressures, and the simple reality that not everyone lives to enjoy this post-work phase. In 2022, the Irish Government made the notable decision to keep the state pension age at 66, even though the Pensions Commission had recommended increasing it to 67 by 2031 and 68 by 2039. In the United Kingdom, a similar discussion is taking place, with the pension age currently set at 66 and due to rise to 67 soon. There are already signals from the new government led by Keir Starmer that it might raise the retirement age to 68 earlier than expected. These trends are echoed across the developed world.
This gradual extension of the working lifespan is often presented as economically necessary, but it is rarely popular. Most people are not eager to work into their late sixties or early seventies, and understandably so. Work, even when fulfilling, is physically and mentally taxing. The idea of continuing this effort for an extended period into old age contradicts the expectation of rest that retirement has promised for generations. But perhaps the more constructive approach isn't to resist these changes outright, but to reimagine how we distribute free time throughout our lives. Instead of deferring leisure to the uncertain years of old age, we might consider allocating more time off earlier, when individuals are younger, healthier, and more able to enjoy it fully.
Globally, the statistics are sobering. Around 27% of men and 18% of women die before the age of 65, though these numbers include deaths before working age. Even in wealthier regions such as the European Union, premature death rates remain significant. In the EU, 16% of men and 8% of women do not live to see their 65th birthday. These numbers underscore the grim reality that many people never get to enjoy retirement at all. They work their entire adult lives expecting a reward that never comes. Others may live to retirement age but suffer from health problems that make it difficult to enjoy their newfound free time. Chronic illness, mobility issues, and cognitive decline can all significantly diminish the quality of life during retirement. These facts challenge the assumption that old age is the optimal time for leisure.
What if, instead, people had access to more leisure earlier in life? What if the concept of time off wasn't clustered at the end of one's life, but spread more evenly across decades? There is precedent for such thinking. In some countries, there is a shift toward more flexible models of work and time off. The Netherlands is an example of a country that allows greater autonomy over working hours. Workers can choose part-time employment without facing discrimination in pay or benefits. In contrast, Japan presents a starkly different model. It adheres to a culture of delayed gratification, where workers are expected to postpone leisure and work diligently through their prime years. Japanese employment policies even allow companies to mandate retirement at age 60, while rewarding continued work through seniority-based pay systems. Japanese workers, on average, retire at 63 and work approximately 1,680 hours per year. Meanwhile, Dutch workers, who retire later at age 67, work fewer hours—just 1,433 per year on average.
These contrasting models reflect different societal values. Japan leans toward a collective ethic of perseverance and future reward, while the Netherlands emphasizes individual choice and work-life balance. Importantly, neither approach is perfect. The Japanese model may contribute to burnout and underutilized potential in older workers, while the Dutch system, despite offering more freedom, may still not adequately address the challenges of late-life leisure if poor health interferes.
The core issue here is not only about hours worked or age of retirement—it’s about how we understand and structure the idea of time. If leisure is always seen as a future payoff, then it becomes vulnerable to the unpredictability of life. Illness, death, and even economic shifts can strip people of the opportunity to enjoy their time later. When people defer personal goals, passions, or even basic rest until retirement, they gamble with an uncertain future. This raises the question of whether societies should do more to ensure that people can take meaningful breaks throughout their lives—when they can make the most of them.
Some policy innovations are exploring these ideas. Sabbatical leave, career breaks, job sharing, and parental leave are examples of systems that allow workers to step away from full-time work without derailing their careers. These policies acknowledge that humans are not machines and that continuous labor for decades is not a sustainable or desirable model. Beyond workplace flexibility, universal basic income (UBI) has also been proposed as a way to decouple survival from constant employment. Although still experimental, UBI would give people the ability to choose when and how to work without the fear of financial ruin, potentially spreading leisure more evenly across life stages.
From a psychological perspective, more balanced time distribution could enhance overall well-being. Young and middle-aged adults often experience burnout, depression, and anxiety related to overwork and the lack of personal time. Offering periods of rest and reflection earlier in life could improve mental health, family stability, and even long-term productivity. It could also help people discover passions and skills that benefit society in non-economic ways—through caregiving, volunteer work, or creative pursuits.
Critics may argue that front-loading leisure undermines the work ethic or places too much strain on public finances. These are legitimate concerns, but they overlook the costs of the current system: increased health expenditures from stress-related illness, reduced productivity from burnout, and the moral cost of promising retirement to people who never live to see it. If more time off earlier in life leads to healthier, happier individuals, it may in fact reduce the burden on healthcare and welfare systems over the long term.
Another objection is that not all jobs are suited to flexible time-off arrangements. For example, manual labor or frontline service work often depends on a steady physical presence. However, even these sectors can benefit from more humane scheduling, job rotation, and staggered sabbaticals. Moreover, technological advancements and increased automation may make it easier to implement flexible labor models even in traditionally rigid sectors.
A reimagined approach to retirement also requires cultural change. Many people internalize the idea that success means constant work and delayed reward. This belief is often reinforced by media, education, and social norms. To truly embrace a new model, societies would need to shift toward valuing rest, reflection, and personal fulfillment as integral parts of a good life—not just indulgences reserved for the elderly. Education systems could incorporate these values by promoting lifelong learning and time management skills. Employers could model success not only through earnings and promotions but through how well employees balance life and work. Governments, too, could reinforce this shift through supportive policy frameworks.
Ultimately, the question of when we rest is deeply personal, but it is also profoundly political. If we accept that life is unpredictable, then it becomes not only logical but ethical to reconsider how we distribute time. Retirement, as it currently stands, is an all-or-nothing proposition. You work for 40-plus years, and then, if you're lucky, you get a decade or two of relative freedom. But this model is increasingly misaligned with human needs, especially in a world where life expectancy, work demands, and personal aspirations vary widely. A more fluid, responsive system would allow people to tailor their work and rest in ways that suit their individual circumstances.
Such a model wouldn't abolish retirement, but it would deconstruct its monopoly on free time. Retirement could remain as a phase of reduced responsibility, but it would no longer bear the full weight of deferred dreams and postponed pleasures. Instead, people would experience life in fuller cycles of effort and rest, challenge and renewal. In doing so, society might become not only more humane but more resilient.
The future of retirement isn't just about pushing the pension age forward or resisting those changes. It’s about questioning whether retirement should be the only time we are allowed to live freely. If we accept that time is our most precious asset, then we must ask: are we using it wisely, or are we saving it for a future that may never come?