Growing Old in Office

By Hugh Sidey

Ronald Reagan is older. He forgets more often. He has more down time than he did four years ago. That will undoubtedly increase to some degree over the next four years of his life. The question is whether this aging has impaired his essential vitality and whether it might, in the next four years, have serious implications. There is no conclusive evidence.

Vitality is at the heart of leadership. It gives a person the desire to change things, the courage to act, the will to keep trying and the joy of achievement. Loss of vitality is not always a matter of age. Age measures only length of life, not a person's energy level or impact.

Most Presidents change in office, adjusting body and mind to compensate for advancing years or declining health. John Kennedy designed his routines to protect his ailing back. He insisted on a daily nap to keep a clear mind. Lyndon Johnson carried a plastic-encased electrocardiogram to show any doubters that his damaged heart was still pumping adequately. He napped two hours a day, then revived with a cold shower rigged for 80 lbs. of pressure per square inch over his enormous body-and great gulps of Cutty Sark Scotch. Ike went through a heart attack, ileitis and a stroke but seemed to grow in kindness and wisdom as if to counterbalance his physical deterioration. He was as effective when he finished as when he started, but he was nowhere near as vigorous, physically or mentally.

Reagan could become infirm. So could Walter Mondale, who has high blood pressure that requires constant medication. Indeed, Mondale confessed that some of his early campaign glitches came from fatigue. Both Woodrow Wilson and Franklin Roosevelt became seriously incapacitated, and their conditions were obscured from the public. The chances of that sort of thing happening in the television age are remote. We could detect it instantly, and the political and governmental system presumably would force the President to step down using the 25th Amendment, which establishes procedures for succession.

Reagan, our oldest President, had as good a health profile in 1980 as any recent President, and his physical record during this term is better than all of them, which was never more evident than in the way he recovered after being shot. Jerry Ford was plagued by rickety football knees, and Jimmy Carter complained early on that he did not have enough energy for all he had to do. He took up jogging to get his vitality back. There were times during Viet Nam and Watergate when both Johnson and Richard Nixon looked to be so burdened by events that they seemed mentally unsteady. None of the above has marred Reagan's years.

Subtle shifts in physical and mental health leave their mark on presidential actions. Without his throbbing back would Kennedy have been quite so glum after his 1961 Vienna summit with Nikita Khrushchev and spread so much alarm in the country? Hindsight suggests that the U.S. may have done a little more nervous saber rattling that summer than the situation in Berlin really required.

Some White House observers believe that Presidents are healthier in office than out. There is deep fulfillment in being at the center of events and helping the world solve its problems. There is also a singular exhilaration in times of crisis. When Kennedy flew off to rest in the Virginia countryside after the successful resolution of the Cuban missile crisis, he never looked or acted better. Nor did Carter after his triumphant ordeal at Camp David with Begin and Sadat. White House reporters have seen the color literally flood back into the faces of Presidents as they savored the roars of approval from great crowds. And White House aides have seen the eyes of Presidents begin to glow and their minds begin to gain speed as they engaged in the great chess game of power. As much as any other President, Reagan takes sustenance from the job. For that reason, the outcome on Nov. 6 has extra importance: his health may depend on it.