From PR Crisis to Aging’s Cultural Moment

Time Person Of The Year: Aging

Something has shifted. You can see it in the data, hear it in conversations, and watch it unfold across social media and on television screens. After decades of being treated as a problem to be solved, aging has become, if not exactly celebrated, at least openly acknowledged, discussed, and even embraced.

This wasn't a planned campaign. There was no strategy session, no coordinated rollout. And yet, between approximately 2020 and 2025, the cultural narrative around aging transformed so completely that the beauty industry is still scrambling to catch up.

Aging hasn’t changed. We have.

THE ROCK BOTTOM YEARS

To understand what's happening now, you have to understand how thoroughly aging has been stigmatized.

The war began in the 1980s, when "anti-aging" became not only a descriptor but also an entire economic category. The global anti-aging market exploded from millions in 1980 to over $60 billion annually by 2020. Every product, every procedure, and every marketing message reinforced a single idea: visible aging was a problem that needed a solution.

The 1990s and 2000s escalated the battle. Botox received FDA approval for cosmetic use in 2002, expanding access to what had previously been available only to the wealthy. The cultural message became inescapable: aging wasn't something to experience. It was something to fight, reverse, defy, and combat. 

The costs extended far beyond expensive creams and procedures. By 2018, age discrimination claims accounted for approximately 21% of all workplace discrimination charges filed with the EEOC. Women over 50 effectively vanished from substantive roles in advertising, film, and television. A 2019 study found that women over 40 made up only 20% of speaking roles in top-grossing films, even though they represented nearly half of moviegoers.

THE PIVOT

In the media, in workplaces, in medicine, and in everyday conversation, aging slowly became something we learned to downplay, something we were encouraged to hide. The unspoken message was simple: stay young or risk being overlooked.

Then things started to change.

It isn't easy to pinpoint exactly when or why. Some people point to the pandemic, when Zoom cameras forced millions to confront their own faces without filters, when salon closures made gray roots visible, and when isolation created space for people to question what they'd been performing and for whom.

Whatever the catalyst, the change became measurable around 2020.

Gray hair searches surged on Pinterest. The hashtag #greyhair accumulated over 5 million posts on Instagram. For the first time in decades, hair dye sales in the U.S. declined. More significantly, people started talking. Loudly. About things that had previously been whispered about in doctors' offices or not discussed at all.

THE UNEXPECTED ALLIANCE

After years of being rarely discussed, menopause began to be talked about more openly.

According to Nielsen BookScan, books about menopause increased dramatically between 2020 and 2024. In 2023 alone, menopause was mentioned in major media outlets more often than in the entire previous decade combined. Major public figures (Michelle Obama, Naomi Watts, Drew Barrymore, Oprah Winfrey) launched menopause-related platforms or businesses. The silence that had surrounded a biological reality affecting roughly half the population simply lifted.

Gray hair became a choice! Influencers over 50 built massive platforms. @iconaccidental built a community of over 1 million celebrating women over 50, and @trainwithjoan features a 79-year-old who started training at 70 and has over 2 million Instagram followers. These weren't niche accounts. They were mainstream phenomena.

Wrinkles, previously photoshopped into oblivion, started appearing in advertisements, not as cautionary tales, but as neutral features of human faces that had lived.

The shift wasn't coordinated, but it was comprehensive. For years, topics like menopause, gray hair, workplace age bias, and media representation existed in isolation. Over time, those conversations began to overlap. Together, they formed a counter-narrative, not because anyone planned it, but because the conversation had grown too large to ignore.

THE METRICS DON'T LIE

The data tells the story more clearly than any anecdote can.

While "anti-aging" still dominates in raw search volume, Google Trends data shows measurable increases in searches for "aging gracefully," "pro-aging," and "aging well" since 2020. The terminology itself has shifted. Brands that had spent decades selling youth began pivoting to phrases like "skin that tells your story" and "beauty at every age."

Major cosmetic companies began introducing what they called “pro-aging” lines. The language itself was telling. Aging was finally being acknowledged, but often still framed in ways that felt reassuring or softened.

More tellingly, growth in some anti-aging product categories slowed in key markets for the first time in years. The market remained active, but its pace had clearly softened.

Media representation began to change. While still limited, television roles for women over 50 increased after 2020. These roles were more often leading and more complex, rather than confined to “mother” or “grandmother” roles. Similar changes also appeared for older male actors, especially in streaming content, which tends to be less tied to traditional audience categories.

The economics were changing because the culture was changing. Or maybe it happened the other way around. Likely both, in a feedback loop that accelerated throughout the early 2020s.

THE LONGEVITY PARADOX

Perhaps the most fascinating aspect of aging's cultural rehabilitation is its unlikely alliance with longevity, a term that, until recently, seemed like aging's more palatable cousin.

For decades, the relationship was antagonistic. People wanted longevity (living longer) but rejected aging (the visible evidence of having lived). The contradiction was spectacular: spend billions on medical interventions to extend lifespan while simultaneously spending billions to erase any sign that time had passed.

Something has shifted in that equation.

The global longevity economy has exploded to an estimated $27 trillion, encompassing everything from pharmaceutical interventions to lifestyle optimization. But the messaging has changed. Increasingly, longevity isn't marketed as staying young forever; it's positioned as living well, longer. The focus has shifted from appearance to function, from looking 30 at 60 to being vital, engaged, and healthy at 80.

Peter Attia's bestselling "Outlive" (2023) focuses on extending health span, not erasing age. Bryan Johnson's extreme longevity protocols generate headlines not for promising eternal youth but for reframing what old age might look like. The conversation has shifted from "how do I avoid aging" to "how do I age well enough to stick around."

Silicon Valley’s interest in longevity has quietly shifted the conversation. Instead of treating aging as something to fight, it has framed aging as something worth planning for. When tech leaders talk about living to 120, they are not promising to look 25. They are suggesting that growing older can be a good thing if health and engagement are maintained.

At the same time, investment in longevity research has increased significantly. Much of that funding is focused on improving how people live in later years, not on cosmetic age reversal. The goal is not to look younger. The goal is to function well for as long as possible.

This reflects an important shift in thinking. Aging is not the enemy of longevity. It is part of it. You cannot have a long life without aging. The two are inseparable. For perhaps the first time in modern history, they are being treated as compatible rather than at odds.

Younger generations seem especially open to this idea. Many Gen Z adults and younger Millennials talk about sleep, metabolic health, and fitness not to avoid aging, but to protect their future health. What they are aiming for is not eternal youth, but a long life that feels full and capable.

Whether this shift reflects a deeper change in values or simply new language for old concerns is still unclear. But one thing is evident. The language has changed. Longevity is no longer positioned as aging’s opponent. It is becoming a way to understand aging differently.

THE SHIFT AND WHAT IT MAKES POSSIBLE

If you are paying attention, the change is already noticeable.

We are aging and taking up space with more ease and less apology. Topics that were once kept private are now discussed at dinner tables, explored in the media, and taken seriously in research. Information about aging, longevity, and age-related change is easier to find and easier to talk about.

What once felt quiet now feels open.

Younger adults are entering their 30s and 40s with a different starting point. They have watched this shift unfold and have language their parents did not. They also see more visible, varied examples of aging than earlier generations ever did.

Research reflects this change. Adults under 35 report less fear and more acceptance around aging than previous generations did at the same age. Greater visibility and more open conversation appear to be shaping a view of aging as a normal part of life. Whether this perspective holds over time remains to be seen, but the foundation is different.

Most importantly, the silence has lifted. Aging is now openly discussed in podcasts, publications, workplaces, and everyday conversations. The conversation is still imperfect and uneven. But it is happening, and it is creating space.

And when space opens, what comes next?  More thoughtful preparation, clearer choices, and a steadier approach to the years ahead.

TIME PERSON OF THE YEAR? Not yet.

So aging may not be appearing on TIME’s cover as Person of the Year just yet. But, someday? The idea no longer feels far-fetched.

The case is being built in real time, in research labs, Instagram feeds, boardrooms, and doctors’ offices. The case is being built in everyday conversations that now include words like “mobility” and “pro-aging” without lowered voices or awkward pauses.

The story of aging’s cultural shift is still unfolding. But this is a story worth paying attention to. Because sooner or later, it becomes personal.

And when something touches everyone, recognition usually isn’t far behind.