What Mitch McConnell’s disappearance really tells us

Mitch McConnell hasn't been seen in weeks. Lindsey Graham just died in office. 0.1% of Congress is Gen Z. It isn't just about age. It's about a political system that's forgotten how to hand off power.

On Sunday morning, America awoke to the news that Senator Lindsey Graham, 71, had unexpectedly passed away. This news comes on the heels of a weeks-long absence of Senator Mitch McConnell, 84, who had been radio silent since his collapse and hospitalization on June 14th following what was reported to be cardiac arrest.

While these are two recent and high-profile examples, Congress has been riddled with politicians past their prime hiding their poor health from voters, even while some actively seek re-election.

The question isn’t why older Americans continue serving in public office. After all, experience is an asset. The question is why so many lawmakers refuse to relinquish power until death, illness, or the ballot box forces them to.

The 119th Congress is among the oldest in American history. It’s filled with lawmakers who have occupied the same seats for decades, protected by incumbency, fundraising advantages, and, in many cases, gerrymandered districts so uncompetitive that the only meaningful contest is the primary.

The generational imbalance is staggering. Just one member of Congress belongs to Gen Z, or roughly 0.1% of the entire legislative branch. Even when Millennials are included, Americans born after 1980 make up only about 13.5% of Congress, despite comprising over 42% of the population together.

Many will decry this as proof of Congress’s dysfunction, and how its aging membership is a clarion call for term limits, age limits, or some other means to force elected officials to take a bow and exit stage left when their time has come and gone.

Make no mistake: We should consider all of the above. But what concerns us isn’t simply that Congress is so old. It’s that instead of making room for new generations to gradually assume leadership, too many lawmakers cling to power until circumstance, rather than choice, determines it’s time to leave.

A stagnant Congress filled with the same people from one term to the next will inevitably lose touch with the Americans who must live with the consequences of their decisions.

However, the most obvious consequence is also the most uncomfortable to talk about: too many members of Congress stay in office until they physically can’t anymore.

While McConnell’s extended, unexplained, and alarming absence from the Senate is the latest example of members hiding health issues by quite literally hiding from their constituents, he’s hardly alone in this.

We’ve watched lawmakers disappear from public view for weeks at a time. Others have shown difficulty in doing their jobs in committee hearings, public remarks, and district events, all the while insisting they’re fit for another term. Senator Graham is the 16th lawmaker to die in office since 2020. Public service shouldn’t end only when incapacity, illness, or death makes the decision for you.

That’s bad for Congress. That’s bad for voters. Most importantly, it’s bad for the next generation of leaders waiting for the chance to serve.

But the damage extends beyond who occupies an office.

Experience is valuable. Institutional knowledge matters. Especially at a time when Donald Trump and his MAGA movement continue attacking the institutions that underpin American democracy. But experience isn’t a substitute for understanding the world as it exists today. The experiences that shape a lawmaker’s instincts determine the questions they ask, the problems they recognize, and the priorities they bring to Washington.

Congress exists to represent the American people. That means understanding how ordinary Americans actually live.

Many members of Congress were independently wealthy before they ever took office. Some were CEOs. Others were lawyers or venture capitalists. Many have now spent decades inside the political bubble.

For many of them, it’s been years (or decades) since they searched for a job, worried about paying student loans, tried to buy a home, or struggled with the rising cost of child care and everyday necessities.

You can’t legislate what you don’t understand, and you can’t represent what you don’t reflect.

Artificial intelligence, for example, is poised to become one of the defining technologies of this century, reshaping everything from education and health care to national security and the economy. If you looked at Congress’s record, though, you’d barely know it. There has been no comprehensive AI legislation, relatively few hearings, and far too many moments where lawmakers have demonstrated they don’t understand the technology they’re supposed to regulate.

Representation isn’t only about race, gender, geography, or party affiliation. It’s also, and perhaps most importantly, about perspective. Our current Congress overwhelmingly reflects yesterday’s generations, not today’s, and certainly not tomorrow’s.

This isn’t an argument that older Americans shouldn’t serve in Congress. Far from it. A healthy legislature benefits from experience just as it benefits from fresh perspectives.But leadership and service are meant to be passed on, not held indefinitely — and good leaders know when it’s time to pass the torch.

For too many members of Congress, stepping aside has become the exception instead of the expectation. At a moment when the country is confronting enormous challenges from artificial intelligence and climate change to housing costs and the future of democracy itself, we can’t afford an institution that waits for the next generation only after the last one is forced to leave.