Category: Podcast

By Rachel Hill
What if the real promise is not simply support, safety, or independence, but the chance for families to become families again?
Ask most senior living organizations to explain their value proposition, and you will hear familiar language: exceptional care, engaging lifestyles, beautiful environments, peace of mind, and greater independence.
Those things matter. But they may not be the thing families need to hear most.
In a conversation with Juniper Communities founder and CEO Lynne Katzmann, SMASH founder Bailey Beeken offered a much more personal possibility: “Reunite with your family.”
It is a simple idea with enormous weight behind it.
When an older adult begins to need more support, family relationships often change gradually and then completely. A daughter who once called to talk about the grandkids is suddenly coordinating medication refills. A son who used to stop by for dinner now spends the visit reviewing bills, checking the refrigerator, and confirming the next doctor’s appointment.
The love is still there. But it becomes buried beneath logistics.
Family members do not stop being daughters, sons, spouses, or friends. Yet caregiving can force them into roles they never expected and may not be equipped to manage. Their conversations become task lists. Their time together becomes work. Every visit carries another responsibility.
Senior living has traditionally responded by emphasizing what the community can do for the resident. Perhaps the stronger story is also what the community can give back to the family.
It can give a daughter permission to be a daughter again.
It can allow a spouse to spend an afternoon holding a hand instead of managing a medication schedule.
It can help a grandchild hear the old family stories because the adults in the room are no longer distracted by everything that needs to be done before they leave.
That is not a secondary benefit. It may be one of the industry’s most meaningful outcomes.
Independence Is Not Always What Families Think It Is
There is a persistent fear that moving into senior living means closing the door on independence. For many older adults, it can feel like surrendering control. For their families, it may feel like breaking a promise.
But sometimes the opposite is true.
When daily life has become a constant struggle to coordinate meals, transportation, home maintenance, medical appointments, and personal care, independence may already be disappearing. The person may still live in the same house, but the life they once enjoyed inside it has become smaller.
The right senior living environment can reopen that life. It can create room for friendships, interests, movement, purpose, and spontaneous connection. It can also remove enough of the caregiving burden that family members can reconnect emotionally.
That is a radically different story from “Mom needs care.”
The story becomes: “We want Mom back.”
Stop Selling a List of Services
Senior living marketing is often crowded with features. Three meals a day. Transportation. Wellness programming. Medication management. Housekeeping. Activities.
Every one of those services has value, but families do not make life-changing decisions based only on a checklist. They make them because they want life to feel better than it does today.
The best marketing helps people see that better future.
Show the daughter arriving without a folder of medical paperwork tucked under her arm. Show the spouse sharing a meal without worrying about preparing it. Show the family laughing together because someone else has taken responsibility for the tasks that once consumed every visit.
The industry should not minimize care. It should explain what excellent care makes possible.
That is the difference between selling services and communicating transformation.
A Question Worth Asking
Every operator should ask: If our team does its job exceptionally well, what relationship do we give back to this family?
The answer may be more compelling than any amenity, floor plan, or dining program.
Senior living provides care. At its best, however, it does something even more human. It creates the space for people to stop managing one another and start loving one another again.
Maybe that is the promise families have been waiting to hear.

By Jack Cumming
Festschrifts and tributes are rare in a business context like senior living, but I was greatly surprised this morning, on my 90th birthday, to receive the following compendium from many of my friends who have sought to lift the industry to its potential. I thank all of you.
Tribute to Jack Cumming on the Occasion of His 90th Birthday
September 9th, 2026
One of the important events in life is the opportunity to express appreciation for people who have influenced your career. Today is just such a day. Jack Cumming and I came to know each other some twenty years ago. That was rather early in my days of academic research into how consumers may need specific safeguards when planning for quality of life, housing, and care as they grow older.
When I first met Jack, I had already written my first, rather naïve article about the phenomenon known as “Continuing Care Retirement Communities” (or CCRCs, now also sometimes known as Life Plan Communities), which was published in 2004. Jack recognized I needed to deepen my knowledge of economics, administrative law, contract law, accounting principles, and actuarial science if I had any hope of persuading anyone that residents are consumers who deserve better protection for these important options for “senior living.” There were a few lessons in German philosophy, too!
I learned that Jack was a resident at a CCRC in southern California, but more importantly, I learned that he was highly educated, very thoughtful, and was fully aware of the need for sound financial planning. Yet he freely admitted that he had bought into a high-end CCRC without first investigating the actuarial soundness of that community’s contract promises to current and future residents. Jack became my most important tutor. He has shared articles, books, and advice. He never laughed at my naïve questions (although certainly he and I spend a lot of time laughing). He explained to me about his moment of blind trust as a prospective resident in an attractive, well-located senior living community. He taught me, “Do not be beguiled by superficial details.” Do not assume that the mere fact that this is an industry with some “regulations” that regulations are “enough.” Talented, dedicated people are needed for oversight and effective safeguards.
Along the way, Jack and I became good friends during my education process about risks and benefits of continuing care. We also became great friends with other movers and shakers in this area of law, financial sciences, and more, including A.V. Powell, Scott Townsley, Karen Miller, and a host of wonderful, engaged residents from coast to coast.
I deeply cherish the time I get to spend with my friend and mentor, Jack Cumming, and I regret that usually we have three time zones separating us. Jack is, quite simply, a fountain of youth, knowledge, and friendship. Thank you, Jack, and my very best wishes to you on your birthday.
Katherine C. Pearson, Professor of Law, Penn State Dickinson Law
A Birthday Tribute to Jack: A Champion for CCRC Residents and Prospects
As a NaCCRA member, I first noticed Jack’s contributions to the NaCCRA Forums in 2021 and reached out to him with a few questions. He was always very kind, patient, and helpful. Because of his innate modesty, it took me quite some time to fully appreciate his impressive background and his extensive knowledge of history and of the complex world of senior living. His depth and breadth of knowledge combined with his fantastic memory never ceases to impress me.
Jack generously gave me access to NaCCRA’s old website, which he personally financed and populated with a vast library of highly instructive articles. I still return to this website from time to time, as most of the information remains just as vital and valid today as it was when first published. NaCCRA wouldn’t be where it is today without Jack’s significant contribution for many years.
As a prospective resident, Jack helped me acquire the essential background knowledge I desperately needed to navigate the world of CCRCs. He not only tirelessly advocates for current residents, but he also empowers prospects to make educated life decisions. For a number of years, Jack even hosted weekly gatherings for a group of us, creating a space where we could benefit from his expertise and learn from one another.
In my book, Jack is an extraordinary, dedicated, and selfless expert, a rare blend of an analytical, math-minded actuary who uses his retirement to fight for the legal and financial safety of fellow seniors. I am immensely indebted to him. I wish him the absolute best for his upcoming 90th birthday, and abundant good health in the years ahead!
Thank you, Jack, for everything you have done for me, and for every CCRC resident and prospect!
Susan Farkas
There is no better advocate for residents of retirement communities than Jack Cumming. He has been tireless in helping residents all over the country understand the industry much better than we did when we first considered moving in. He understands the benefits as well as the detriments and can give advice on pitfalls we should try to avoid.
If providers were smart enough to listen to Jack and heed his advice to pay attention to their residents, we and they would be better off.
Thank you, Jack, for everything you have done and everything I am confident you will continue to do.
Karen [email protected] 374-9999
A Nomination for the NaCCRA Residential Medal of Honor
Jack Cumming, NaCCRA Research Director

For a lifetime of intelligent inquiring into the reality of aging in his time and place,
To recognize the many challenges that both providers and residents face and in crafting purposefully living for the aging,
For courageous and forceful communication of the reality of aging and constancy in forceful, effective voice in the public forum.
For the complete dedication of his considerable intelligence and analytical capabilities in support of residents,
For meriting a place of honor as THE best friend of the CCRC resident.

AS WE WISH YOU A VERY HAPPY BIRTHDAY, THE RESIDENTS OF YESTERDAY, TODAY, AND TOMORROW WISH YOU THE VERY BEST.
Personal Note:                                                                             September 4, 2026
Thank you, Jack, for all you have provided me with; for your research and your writings. You set me a course of activity that I still pursue with vigor the well-being of my fellow CCRC residents. Your article, Not What We Expected, touched on the essential points that continue to vex an industry vital to an aging nation. To a friend, mentor, and critical thinker, and effective voice – Happy Birthday
Basil H. Pflumm, Brig Gen USAF (Ret’d)
Wade Taylor, Army Residence Community, San Antonio, Texas
Thank you for reaching out as Jack celebrates a significant “life well lived” milestone of 90 years. My short reflections (which do not do justice to Jack and his many contributions from my perspective) follow:
Jack is both a “legend in his own mind” (fondly said) as well as in the mind of many others. He has touched, influenced, and educated many with respect to senior living and CCRC/Life Plan living over his many years with NaCCRA and through other influential senior living associations and organizations. His early pioneer research published questions to ask before moving into a CCRC, and NaCCRAU videos influenced me greatly in my journey to search for a CCRC some 20 years ago. In sum, Jack’s published works/articles and his NaCCRA research were invaluable tools for many untold numbers of seniors.
More recently, our lives have intersected, and my relationship with Jack has become more personal, starting with my service as a NaCCRA Director, our Chat Group discussions, our personal correspondence, and his writings for Senior Living Foresight. His dogged, positive activism to critique/improve the business of senior living is notable. If there ever was a real “mover and shaker” in the senior living/CCRC/Life Plan business, it is Jack Cumming–a prolific contributor, activist, and good, decent person who has cemented his legacy many times over!
Wade Taylor
Ann Mackay, Charlestown Retirement Community, Catonsville, Maryland
I worked with Jack on the NaCCRA board over 10 years ago. I call him the “prophet” because he sees where we need to be, and he has worked very hard to educate residents and executive directors on the need for residents to be engaged and empowered.
Jack kept NaCCRA afloat with his time and money for the membership system and a website 10 years ago. He understands the importance of resident involvement and advocacy. Nara has emerged from those times with a stronger presence and strong leadership. I sometimes wonder if NaCCRA would have survived without his persistence.
He continues his thought-provoking, advanced thinking on a variety of topics, from community models to artificial intelligence and governance, in his regular senior foresight column.
Congratulations on reaching 90 years old. I will continue to read your columns and look forward to your continued contributions.
Ann MacKay, CAE (Ret.)
NaCCRA Past President
Gerard Hyland
Thank you for inviting me to contribute to Jack’s 90th Birthday tribute. Perhaps you can find something useful among some of my recollections of Jack.
My recollections of Jack go back to 2010 when I joined NaCCRA to learn about the CCRC business model. As I recall, Jack had joined NaCCRA sometime earlier than I. That might make Jack one of the longest-serving members of NaCCRA.
Jack was educated as an actuary and had a career as an executive in the life insurance industry in New York City. See attached copy of his bio.
He moved to a CCRC and became a NaCCRA member, well prepared with education and career as an actuary to contribute to NaCCRA. To explain, CCRCs were originally conceived by a faith-based organization and came into being in 1972, following the IRS Revenue Ruling 72-124. It allows homes for the elderly to qualify for tax-exempt status under Section 501(c)(3) of the Internal Revenue Code without needing to provide direct financial assistance or relief of poverty as long as the home satisfies three primary needs, that is, housing, healthcare, and security.
CCRCs intend to care for the elderly from independent living, through assisted living, and into skilled nursing, as required, without an increase in monthly service fees except for inflation, under the type A contract. Such a contract implicitly includes long-term care insurance. In the early years, CCRC bankruptcies were a big problem as faith-based and other organizations could not get the revenues correct to support the promised services to the elderly.
Professor Howard E. Winklevoss at the University of Pennsylvania, Wharton School of Business, came to the rescue by applying actuarial science to the problem. This story can be gleaned from “Life Care Communities: Promises and Problems,” Hearing before the Special Committee on Aging, United States Senate, May 25, 1983 (see attached). Jack, the actuary, retiring to a CCRC and joining NaCCRA was a perfect fit.
In recent years, Jack learned that I relocated from Oregon to Southern California, and I was then living in an assisted living facility that had been a CCRC. It was purchased out of bankruptcy by its new owner. Jack alerted me to the book by Patrick Dillon and Carl M. Cannon entitled “Circle of Greed.” The book is about the spectacular rise and fall of a lawyer who was instrumental in bringing a class-action lawsuit to court on behalf of residents in 14 CCRCs in California, Arizona, and Hawaii against Pacific Homes Corporation. (See Barr v. United Methodist Church, 90 Cal. App.3d 259 (Cal.Ct.App. 1979)).
Jack is the most intelligent, smartest, and more knowledgeable about CCRCs than anyone who I know. We have corresponded frequently over the years. I could ask him a short question and, to my amazement, receive a lengthy 15 pages of well-written, perceptive and intelligent response. See, for example, the attached review Jack wrote on the Government Accountability Office (GAO) report.
Jack had worked at New York Life Insurance Company (NYLIC), a company where my father had worked. When I told Jack, he promptly sent me a book on the history of NYLIC, for which I am most appreciative.
Jack told me the story of the problems that life insurance companies were having during the 1800’s when unscrupulous companies paid executives high salaries while the companies did not have the resources to pay benefits when the insured died. The industry was getting a bad reputation. The creation of the New York State Insurance Department (originally established in 1859 and the precursor to today’s New York State Department of Financial Services) is a landmark story of America’s transition from a chaotic, unregulated wild-west market to structured consumer protection.
The life insurance industry eventually embraced the legislation when they realized that strict, transparent regulation actually helped stable firms by weeding out fraudulent competitors and building public trust. All other states followed New York State in regulating the insurance industry. My sense is that Jack envisions an extension of state insurance laws to CCRCs to save CCRCs from themselves. As with life insurance companies, they resisted at first. Once regulation was implemented and clients had confidence in the industry, the life insurance companies were better off, as well as their clients.
Jack conveyed to me the impression that he was dismayed at the lack of similar strict, transparent regulation of the CCRC industry, given CCRC similarities to the insurance industry. He has tried to persuade the National Association of Insurance Commissioners to regulate CCRCs and to persuade LeadingAge to clean up their industry. Jack continues to work in support of the best interests of CCRC residents as well as the CCRC industry. He deserves thanks and appreciation of NaCCRA members.
Best regards,
Gerard Hyland
WHAT JACK WROTE ABOUT HIMSELF IN 2014

American Historical Association Perspectives Journal, Publication Date November 1, 2014, Career Paths
My career illustrates an opportunity that historians and humanists often overlook by leaving the preparation of business leaders principally to business and engineering schools. Skills familiar to historian analysis, writing, and integrity are what distinguish great business leaders. While case studies can bring a semblance of historical dynamism to business education, there is nothing like a historical perspective as preparation for business in a time of rapid change.
A transition in my preparation for a business career followed from a moment of insight on a warm early spring afternoon in 1956. My first two years of college were in engineering. I’d spent that afternoon in a laboratory measuring the strength of concrete blocks. Now that’s very important for engineers to know. No one wants a building to collapse under its own weight. But at 4:30 p.m., after three hours with those concrete blocks, I returned to my room to find my roommates still in heated discussion over a morning lecture on the Renaissance and Reformation. The lecture was given by “Jinx” Harbison, a consummate scholar and teacher. “My goodness,” I thought, “these guys are getting an education, and I’m crushing concrete blocks.”
The next day I initiated a shift in major from engineering to the humanities, specifically European area studies. I was afraid to jump right into a history major. History was considered formidable, and I lacked the prerequisite survey courses. Area studies allowed a historical focus with diversification into other humanities. I was fortunate to be allowed to start junior-level history courses after R. R. Palmer, the head of the history department, decided I could handle it. He had given me a stack of books, including his own, to read over the summer, followed by an informal oral exam in the fall.
Despite my shift to the humanities, my passion for a business career remained. Business serves to improve the human condition, to create employment, and to raise the overall standard of living. I wanted to be part of that practical world.
Until that moment in 1956 I had thought that an attraction to business and an interest in history were two dissimilar interests. As it turned out, that is not the case. It’s true that business is practical and history can be academic, but the academic can illumine the practical.
Like my passion for business, my interest in history began early. When I was nine years old, a captivating picture appeared on the front page of our local newspaper. Buchenwald had just been liberated, and we awoke one day to a photograph of a starving, under-clothed man standing by a bunk bed. You’ve likely seen that picture. The full horror of what our nation had been fighting suddenly was manifest before our eyes. How, I wondered, could such an atrocity have come to pass? Might it conceivably ever happen here, in the United States? Questions like these, I came to know, are the stuff of history.
My career has been as an actuary. Unlike many other business professions, including law or accounting, actuarial qualification does not require specific academic preparation. Fellows of the Society of Actuaries qualify by passing a lengthy series of examinations administered at worldwide centers. The opportunity to simply read a book and master the contents can spare the aspirant the tedium of vocational classes. The sole requisites are demonstrated mastery and good character. This can help a humanities graduate to establish the practical credentials that businesses expect.
After college I went to work in insurance, but my interest in history persisted. In that era, New York University allowed people to work for a PhD through evening courses. I was hungry to study history. The year was 1962, six years after my change of major, and four years after I’d earned my bachelor’s degree. I had become a junior officer at a major New York insurance company and was sitting for the actuarial examinations.
The self-study format of the actuarial program left me free to enroll at NYU. With the evening option, I was able to support my young family, to prepare for actuarial exams, and to pursue professional-level studies in history, all at the same time. The combination was perfect for me.
Working full-time at a demanding business position, while pursuing graduate studies at night, takes a toll. I reduced my sleep over a period of years to just three to four hours a night, though I made up for it on Sunday. To stay in shape I would run the distance from my office on 51st Street in New York City to the university building at 8th Street (roughly two and a half miles). Even though the combination of work and graduate school was stressful, I felt fortunate to have access to a first-rate university that offered evening classes.
I never revealed to my work associates that I was studying graduate-level history. They might have thought that I wasn’t serious in business, so I didn’t take that chance. I was ambitious for career advancement. I expected pushback from the business community and avoided it by studying covertly, but I was surprised to find that my dissertation adviser thought that, if I continued in business, I couldn’t be a serious history student. He wanted me to teach, but that had never been my intention. Finally, he told me he would never approve my dissertation since he couldn’t “certify” me as a historian if I remained in business. By that time, I had rewritten the first chapters of my dissertation three times. With his words I knew I would not progress. I dropped the pursuit of a PhD. Although I don’t have a degree to show for those years of effort, I gained the benefit of the education.
My business career blossomed, and I was given positions of increasingly higher responsibility. Those years of concentrated historical studies propelled my success. Historians are uniquely qualified to foresee change, to set change into context, to recognize practical innovation, and to manage the transitions from one era to the next. The sense of opportunity in a changing world distinguishes the historically trained businessperson from the graduate of a business program. It allows the historian in business to capitalize on change while others may only see change as an unpleasant challenge.
Beyond the historian’s grasp of change, practical skills from the humanities are critical to corporate leadership. Understanding of human nature tops the list. Other skills are nearly as important; not least among them is the craft of writing clearly, succinctly, and effectively. Good writing is followed closely by the ability to articulate a vision and to enlist others in the corporate cause. History provides a visionary perspective. Historians are trained to read rapidly and with comprehension; corporate leaders must absorb information quickly and cogently. Without these skills no business leader can be fully successful.
Of course, the pragmatics of business also matter. Businesspeople must know finance, accounting, marketing, organizational management, legal requirements, and the like. Historical preparation can facilitate even the mastery of these specifics. The rapid absorption of complex and varied information provides an advantage. Marketing requires deep understanding of people and what motivates them. Organizational management is not that different from the varieties of societal organization, which historians understand well. In short, a businessperson who has a strong grounding in the humanities and is rooted in history is well positioned to absorb the pragmatic vocational skills needed.
Graduate history programs can thrive if they avoid the narrow premise that graduate education is job training for teaching. Expanding the vision can bring wider awareness of the value of graduate-level historical training for business and other careers. Recognizing these broader career possibilities can create new opportunities for those with advanced history degrees.
Jack Cumming is a consulting actuary and research director for the National Continuing Care Residents Association. His aborted dissertation was on Walther Rathenau as a thinker, writer, business executive, and government official.
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License. Attribution must provide author name, article title, Perspectives on History, date of publication, and a link to this page. This license applies only to the article, not to text or images used here with permission.

WHAT THE INTERNET KNOWS ABOUT JACK
Jack Cumming is a prominent retired life insurance actuary and an active advocate, writer, and researcher in the senior living and housing industry. [1, 2, 3]
The biography below focuses on Jack Cumming, the life insurance actuary:
Career Summary

Insurance Background: Spent his core corporate career working within the life insurance sector as an actuary by training.
Senior Living Advocacy: After moving into a Continuing Care Retirement Community (CCRC) in 2006, he pivoted his focus toward senior housing and aging services.
Research Director: He serves as the Research Director for the National Continuing Care Residents Association (NaCCRA).
Credentials: In addition to his actuarial background, he qualified by examination as a Certified Aging Services Professional (CASP). [1, 3, 5]

Key Focus Areas & Publications

Industry Commentary: He is a frequent contributor to platforms like the Senior Living Innovation Forum and Senior Living Foresight, where he writes about leadership, AI law, financial business models, and operational safety in senior care.
Core Philosophy: He strongly advocates that the senior living market must evolve its business models to effectively sustain America’s rapidly aging population. [1, 3]

———————-
The digital footprint for “Jack” highlights several key facets of his life and career:

Actuarial and Corporate Background

Professional Roots: Before dedicating his time to senior living advocacy, Jack had a long and successful career in the life insurance industry. He is a Princeton University graduate and an actuary by training. [1, 2]
Interdisciplinary Expertise: In interviews, he often speaks about his diverse academic journey bridging engineering, history, and actuarial science, emphasizing the deep value of the humanities in business. [1]

A Leading Voice in Senior Living and CCRCs

Certified Expert: After transitioning to living in a Continuing Care Retirement Community (CCRC) in 2006, he fully immersed himself in the senior housing landscape. He went as far as qualifying by examination as a Certified Aging Services Professional. [1]
Prolific Writer: He is widely recognized on the web as a prominent contributing author for industry platforms like Senior Living Foresight. He frequently publishes deeply analytical thought-leadership pieces covering topics ranging from senior housing finance, corporate leadership, and industry ethics to the integration of technology and AI in eldercare. [1]
The “Memory” and “History” Connection: True to your draft’s mention of his great memory, internet profiles track him as a resident who deeply understands the legislative, financial, and moral “trust” that non-profit CCRCs owe to their residents. [1]

Advocacy and Community Building

NaCCRA Leadership: The internet tracks his regular involvement with the National Continuing Care Residents Association (NaCCRA), where he has documented conferences, pushed for better hospitality standards, and fought against bad actors in the senior living space.
Mentorship: He is publicly recognized as a passionate mentor who heavily champions consumer protection for prospective residents, matching your experience of him hosting gatherings to educate incoming seniors.

From the Board of the National Continuing Care Residents Association (NaCCRA)
The Board of the National Continuing Care Residents Association (NaCCRA) extends its heartfelt appreciation to Jack Cumming for his extraordinary dedication, generosity, and wisdom.
Jack has been a steadfast supporter of NaCCRA for many years. Whenever he has seen a need or an opportunity to strengthen our organization, he has stepped forward — generously sharing his time, knowledge, experience, and resources. Most recently, Jack demonstrated that commitment through a substantial financial gift to NaCCRA, offered simply because he recognized a need and wanted to help.
As Jack celebrates his 90th birthday, his passion and determination remain as strong as ever. He continues to speak out on issues affecting seniors and to generously share the wisdom gained through his many years of experience. Jack shows up — again and again — wherever there is an opportunity to advocate for seniors, exchange ideas, provide guidance, or help make a difference.
There are very few individuals who give so freely of themselves and remain so deeply committed to serving others. Jack’s 90 years have certainly not diminished his enthusiasm, his curiosity, or his determination to continue contributing.
NaCCRA has been truly fortunate to have Jack as a guiding light, trusted advisor, generous supporter, and friend. His dedication has strengthened our organization and inspired those of us who have had the privilege of working alongside him.
Jack, on behalf of the entire NaCCRA Board and our members across the country, we thank you for all you have done and continue to do. We congratulate you on this wonderful milestone of 90 years and look forward to many more years of your wisdom, friendship, leadership, and unmistakable Jack Cumming spirit.
Happy 90th Birthday, Jack — and with our deepest gratitude, thank you!
Luana Pinasco, President, National Continuing Care Residents Association (NaCCRA)
From Germany
Happy 90th birthday, Jack Cumming, the opener of worlds.
I first met Jack when I was 16 at Kolleg St. Blasien. During one of his visits to South Germany, he stepped in to teach a few English and history classes, sharing his vast knowledge simply for the joy of it. A year later, Jack and Valerie welcomed me into their home in Marina del Rey. For a teenager from the Black Forest, discovering Los Angeles opened an entirely new world.
That has always been Jack’s gift: helping people see possibilities beyond the limits of where they started. Over the years, he has positively influenced so many young people, encouraging them to pursue paths as varied as veterinary medicine, the film industry, and, in my case, the world of finance.
Decades later, my work in Mexico brought us closer again, and Jack remains a mentor to me. We now share memories of sunsets in Carlsbad, a family cruise with Jack and Valerie along the California coast, as well as a Kindle library that continually opens my eyes to questions outside my social bubbles.
Perhaps sharing Kindle libraries across generations should be a business model in itself: a way to keep our minds open.
This mentorship began before mentors became part of corporate development programs. It began unexpectedly when I was 16 and has quietly lasted a lifetime (although this post makes it a little less quiet).
Thank you, Jack, for opening worlds and enriching so many lives, including mine.
May your cup continue to run over.
 

Monika Rehner

Vice President Finance | International Finance & Business Transformation Executive | Strategy, M&A, Capital Allocation & Performance

By Steve Moran
Years ago, the pastor of a church I attended would start his sermon saying exactly the same thing each week. He would look out over the congregation and say, “Chicago, we are blessed.” (not really Chicago)
I found out later it drove one particular member crazy. His life was a mess, not a bad week, a real mess, and here was this man telling him, in front of everyone, how blessed he was.
I think about that every time I catch myself about to say something similar.
Bad stuff happens to all of us, though scrolling through some people’s social media accounts, you could begin to think they have perfect lives 100% of the time.
Continue reading on Practical Passionate Leadership (Substack) for free …

By Jack Cumming
The article, smack in the center of the front page of the New York Times for August 18, 2026, instantly caught my eye. The headline: “At 92, Nader Is Still Asking You to Listen.” It can be unsettling to see yourself reflected in a contemporary. Ralph Nader was three years ahead of me when I was in college. He was Princeton ’55, and I was Class of ’58. I’ve been aware of his intensity for the past 72 years. I don’t remember how I first became aware of him when I was a Freshman, but I did.
Unsafe
Ralph Nader first came to public view when he published a book, “Unsafe At Any Speed,” in which he alleged that the auto industry put marketing before safety. General Motors responded by initiating a campaign of intimidation in which they investigated Nader to try to dig up dirt on him; hired women to try to entrap him; and tried to smear him as anti-Semitic. The book led to the National Traffic and Motor Vehicle Safety Act of 1966.
Mr. Nader was a national force for justice and other causes in his time, but his time passed. He ran four times for President, first with the Green Party and then as an Independent. He formed a group of young activists called “Nader’s Raiders” to pursue causes. He’s always lived an ascetic, frugal life, which was an advantage when GM unleashed its resources on him.
Benjamin Oreskes in the Times article puts it this way: “Communicating with Mr. Nader typically means talking to him via his landline. He does not own a cellphone, a computer, or even a credit card.” Mr. Oreskes continues: “He lives an almost hermetically sealed life in Washington, D.C., where he shares a home with his 98-year-old sister, Claire Nader.”
Lessons for Senior Living
This has many lessons both for senior living and for me. I’ll get to me later. Senior living has no entity with the scale that General Motors had when Nader’s book appeared, unless we view the collective membership of LeadingAge as an entity. LeadingAge has emphasized providers’ beliefs, combating ageism, and semantics. Recently, there has been a flurry of negative media coverage, which providers counter either as unjustified or as isolated exceptions. That’s not dissimilar to where the auto industry was before the Motor Vehicle Safety Act. In 1953, the CEO of GM said something like, “What’s good for General Motors is good for the country.”
What might a book comparable to “Unsafe at Any Speed” do to the senior living industry’s reactive defensiveness? I’ll let you imagine what the title might be. Thinking of possible hostile book titles can be, and should be, unsettling. Fortunately for the industry, the book, “Inflamed,” hasn’t caught on with the public and wasn’t titled “Unsafe for Habitation.”
That book’s description on Amazon reads: “The dramatic story of hundreds of senior citizens left in the path of a ferocious firestorm and what the quest for accountability reveals about the increasing risks to our most vulnerable population.” The best approach would be a proactive effort to give people what they could embrace with no more reservations than the cruising industry draws.
Thinking Constructively
Coincidentally, today, August 18, 2026, John Cochran, CEO of HumanGood and one of the most respected senior living industry leaders, posted a profound message on LinkedIn. He calls for focusing the mission on “more good years for more people.” There’s no mention of minimum age, what the product is called, or nonprofit/for-profit. Just a simple call for the industry to improve the lives of people.
That would require dynamic, charismatic leadership at the national level. It would require transforming the mindset of the industry to see customers instead of residents. And, yes, that’s a semantic change that LeadingAge might miss. It would require seeing those customers as individuals and not as a collective. Our cars are safer today because Ralph Nader took on an industry and started a movement toward customers instead of corporate aggrandizement. Think of what “more good years for more people” could do for you, and for all of us.
My Cause
Now back to the “me” part. I’ll be 90 on September 9th, so I’m entering that twilight zone that Ralph Nader now inhabits as detailed in today’s New York Times article. For the past twenty years, I’ve tried to persuade the industry that it’s in the industry’s own interest to listen to its customers. I’ve done that in every way I can think of, including writing articles like this one.
Frankly, I don’t think that effort has made much headway. Senior living is not an industry that takes resident thinkers seriously. Despite the move to have minority resident representation on senior living community boards, LeadingAge has not one single resident on its Board, much less one who could actually speak authoritatively with providers about their challenges and opportunities. I don’t regret one iota of what I’ve done.
Still, reading about Ralph Nader today held up a mirror to me. As we move into our 90s, the world sees us as having run our course, even as kinda cute as we continue with what would have been taken seriously just a few years ago. It’s time for a younger generation to step forward to make a difference. We can improve our world, or we can stagnate. The future beckons. It will be whatever we choose to make it.
We oldsters – beyond mere older adults (the term that now seems semantically to be superseding “seniors”, “elders”, “retirees”, etc.) – still care about the world. We oldsters still believe we have something to contribute. But the truth is that in the eyes of the world, we’ve run our course. “Weep no more, my lady. Oh! weep no more today!” As one generation moves on, another comes to take its place.

By Jack Cumming
As a teenager, I loved the line from Shakespeare’s Hamlet, “Frailty, thy name is woman” (Act 1, Scene 2). It fit both sisters and fickle girlfriends. Of course, it’s best read in context. That was then. Now I’m approaching 90, and I’m the one who’s frail.
Like Tumbleweed
This was brought home to me recently when I attended the LeadingAge California BOLD conference in Desert Springs, CA. I went to sit down on a chair, somehow missed, and tumbled backwards, smacking the back of my head on the floor. I felt fine, but I reached back to where my head had landed, and there was blood. Lesson: Humans are built to fall forward, not backward.
In case you’ve never had the experience, a wound on the skull bleeds profusely, which is probably a good thing. The result was much unwelcome attention and transportation to a nearby hospital. After this and that, a physician took a staple gun and slammed three staples into my head as though he were posting an ad on a telephone pole. In short, old age can really suck, and surprises are not always the fun kind. It was embarrassing.
My Bad
Truth to tell, I probably shouldn’t have been there with advanced age creeping up so unexpectedly. I knew I had been getting wobbly and had even ordered an exoskeleton to see if that would help.
Last year, I attended the Boston meeting, and that was a strain. This year, I thought that a meeting closer to home might work better. It turned out I underestimated the effect of desert air, or something, because it turned out to be a reach too far.
Unwelcome Attention
I can share with readers who have not yet crossed this threshold into frailty, that it can become the unwelcome center of attention. That’s something best avoided. It’s a mortifying experience, but everyone was very nice about it, and I’m more than grateful to one particular person who knows who she is. I don’t want to embarrass her, but the industry needs more executive directors like her.
Thanks
I hope to continue to share what I can, but it’s probably wise to stay closer to the CCRC where I live. I apologize to anyone whose session was disrupted. Thank you, Jeannie Parker Martin, Pat Girczyc, Paula Diggernes, Lola Rain, Anna Hall, and many more.
Life is a grand adventure. Enjoy every moment of it. And Shakespeare/Hamlet got it wrong. It turns out that we’re all frail in the end. Moreover, women usually outlive us men.

By Steve Moran
I want to say something that senior living marketing almost never says out loud. Something that I think is more emotionally true and more powerful than almost anything else we could say to a prospective resident.
Your friend circle is shrinking. And making new close friends at this stage of life is really hard.
There are a few reasons why we don’t talk about it:

It’s negative, and we don’t like talking about negative things.
Most salespeople are young enough not to have really experienced the shrink in any meaningful way. 

Before Your Old …
When you’re in your 40s, friends accumulate almost automatically. Through work. Through your kids’ activities. Through the neighborhood. Through the organizations you belong to. You don’t think about it much; it just happens. The structures of your life generate connections without you having to manage them.
Then things start to change. You retire. The professional relationships that felt like friendships turn out to have been mostly about proximity, and they fade. Your kids move away, and the friendships built around their school and their activities go with them.
The neighbor, who was one of your closest friends, relocates to be near their grandchildren. Someone you’ve known for thirty years gets sick. Someone dies. Someone simply drifts.
And Then One Day …
Then one day, usually so gradually you don’t even notice it, you realize that the people you used to see without thinking, you now have to schedule. And you schedule them less and less. Not because you don’t want to. Because life is complicated and distance is real and everyone is busy, and it’s harder than it used to be.
Nobody wants to admit this is happening because it feels like failure somehow. Or like admitting to something embarrassing. But it isn’t failure. It’s physics. It’s what happens when the structures that automatically created connections in your life start falling away.
Friend-Making Machines
Imagine that all the senior living communities out there committed to be “Friend Making Machines.” (Maybe I should trademark that term, but I won’t, and you are free to use it.)
Not the passive kind of friend-making, where you hope people will connect. The active kind, where proximity, shared meals, regular programming, and a physical environment designed for encounters create the conditions for real friendship to develop. Hallways where you see the same people every day. A dining room where you sit with different neighbors and actually talk. An interest group where you meet someone who shares a passion you thought you’d have to pursue alone.
That might be the most important thing we can offer. More important than the safety features. More important than the care. More importantly, honestly, than almost anything else we could put in a brochure.
So why aren’t we saying it?
Why aren’t we selling it?
Why is senior living marketing full of language about shallow vacation-style experiences (that are great but lonely) or about care, fall prevention, medication management, and peace of mind, when what a 72-year-old who hasn’t made a new friend in five years really wants to hear is: Come here, and you will find your people?
I am convinced a big part of the problem is that naming the loneliness feels presumptuous. Like we’re pointing at something people haven’t invited us to point at. It’s a legitimate concern; it needs to be approached carefully, without making anyone feel exposed or accused.
But done right, naming this truth is an act of profound respect. It’s acknowledging something very real about growing older. And the prospect who hears it who recognizes it as true for their own life feels seen and heard in a way that no amount of language about amenities and safety features can achieve.
The friend-making capacity of a good senior living community is a powerful health benefit. The research on social connection and longevity is clear and compelling. We’re not overselling when we lead with it. We’re finally telling the truth.

By Rebecca Wiessmann
On this episode of Foresight TV, Steve talks with Gina Martin, founder of the Bob and Diane Fund, and photojournalist Leah Hennel, the fund’s 2025 grant recipient. Their conversation explores how photography can make Alzheimer’s and dementia visible — not as abstract diagnoses, but as human stories of love, caregiving, grief, adaptation, and daily life. You can watch the full livestream HERE.
Gina started the Bob and Diane Fund 10 years ago while working at National Geographic. Her mother had Alzheimer’s, and her father was her caregiver. Surrounded by world-class photography, Gina saw how images could help people understand something they might otherwise keep at arm’s length.
So she created a grant for photographers working on projects related to Alzheimer’s and dementia.
The organization’s goal is not simply to document disease. It is to create visual awareness. It is to help people feel empathy. To bring to light something that too often lives in the shadows.
Over the past decade, the fund has supported 10 grant recipients. Their work has appeared in roughly 150 publications worldwide, including The Washington Post, The New York Times, NPR, BBC, and other major outlets.
This year’s recipient, Leah Hennel, brings a deeply photojournalistic approach to the work.
Her project, “In the Time We Have,” follows Joan and Alan, a married couple in Calgary, Alberta, as they navigate life with Alzheimer’s.
The Ordinary Moments Are The Story
Steve connects to the work immediately.
His 93-year-old stepfather has dementia. For a time, he lived in Steve’s home. Eventually, Steve and his wife reached the point many family caregivers reach: they could no longer keep him safe at home or keep themselves safe while trying to care for him.
He now lives in a small senior living setting.
That lived experience changes the way Steve sees Leah’s photographs. They are not distant or theoretical. They are familiar.
A doll in a laundry room. A nap in a favorite sunny spot. A ride in the car. A kiss on the cheek. A spouse hovering nearby, always watching, always adjusting, always protecting.
Leah says she is drawn to human emotion. Not only sadness. Not only joy. The full mix of what people experience every day.
Her connection to dementia is personal, too. Her father-in-law had dementia, and she watched her husband’s family wrestle with the disease. One of the things that surprised her most was the silence around it. Some family members did not want to tell friends. People did not know how to respond. Friends wondered whether they should still invite him for coffee or visit if he might not remember them.
That stigma became one of the reasons Leah wanted to do the project.
The Shrinking World Of Dementia
One image that hits Steve especially hard shows Joan holding a doll.
For Steve, it captures something many families know but struggle to explain: the shrinking world of dementia.
His stepfather had once been a Silicon Valley executive. Later, he moved into a one-bedroom in Steve’s house. Now he lives in a senior living community with a few photos and mementos.
The world contracts.
But Leah’s photograph does not reduce Joan to loss. Joan is still living, still holding, still feeling, still moving through ordinary moments that matter.
Leah explains that Joan often holds dolls or stuffed animals. She wraps them like babies. She carries them around the house. These small comforts become part of daily life.
That is the power of the project. It does not turn dementia into a clinical issue. It shows the laundry room, the grocery list, the favorite sweater, the hallway, the car ride, and the routines.
People are still living their lives.
Love Does Not Disappear
One of the most powerful photographs captures a fleeting moment between Joan and Alan.
Joan says Alan’s name — something he had not heard from her in years — and then kisses him on the cheek.
Leah admits the photo is not technically perfect. The moment happened too fast. But emotionally, it lands exactly where it needs to land.
Gina says this is what drew her to Leah’s project. It captures true love.
So much dementia storytelling focuses on loneliness, disappearance, and loss. Those things are real. But in this story, Alan remains by Joan’s side. He advocates for her. He adjusts his life around her. He helps her keep living.
Gina says people often think of Alzheimer’s as a death sentence. Eventually, it can be. But Leah’s work shows something else, too: Joan is living with Alzheimer’s. Alan has not disappeared from life either. They are living through it together.
That distinction matters for families. It matters for senior living leaders. And it matters for anyone trying to communicate about dementia with more honesty and humanity.
Living In Their World
One of the most practical lessons comes near the end of the conversation.
Steve asks what senior living operators need to understand about dementia from the perspective of families and caregivers.
Gina’s answer is direct: You are now living in their world.
People living with dementia cannot simply change the way they process information. They cannot be argued back into reality. They cannot be corrected into clarity.
The rest of us have to change.
That means learning how to communicate differently. It means resisting the impulse to rationalize, explain, argue, or correct. It means understanding that dementia is a disease, and if people could change what is happening, they would.
Steve connects this to an article he has started writing titled “I’m So Tired of Lying.” Editorial Note: This referenced article should already be published by the time this one is, please find the article and link to it.
Anyone who has cared for someone with dementia understands what he means. Families often have to step into an alternate reality over and over again. They redirect. They soothe. They answer the same question eight times in 20 minutes. They say whatever preserves peace and dignity in the moment.
It is loving.
It is necessary.
And it is wearying.
What Senior Living Leaders Should See
The lesson for senior living is not only about care plans or memory care programming. It is about seeing.
Seeing the spouse who has been carrying the emotional weight for years.
Seeing the daughter who is exhausted before the move-in even happens.
Seeing the resident not as a diagnosis but as a person still living a life full of preferences, habits, fears, joys, and flashes of recognition.
Seeing that love may look different inside dementia, but it is still love.
Leah’s photographs remind us that dementia care is not only about safety, medication, bathing, meals, or activities. It is about ordinary human moments — and the people who help make those moments possible.
A pink sweater so someone can be spotted quickly in a store.
A small card explaining dementia to strangers.
A tracker for safety.
A stroller-like chair so a couple can still get outside.
A caregiver who follows rather than forces.
A husband who adapts because, in his mind, there is no other option.
This is the work.
And when photography does its best work, it helps the rest of us see what was already there.

By Jack Cumming
The arrival of Sean Kelly at Front Porch was transformative. I should quickly add that I’m a resident at Carlsbad by the Sea Retirement Community, part of Front Porch. If you know Sean, you know that he is very bright, friendly, open, and engaging.
Culture Matters
One of the first steps he took was to bring in Anna Hall as “Chief Culture and Community Officer.” Sean also set out a vision statement for the corporation with culture at the top of the heap.
The sad truth is that there are often two cultures co-existing in senior living corporations and communities. The one culture is that of the executives and employees who exercise the ownership authority. The other is the more rapidly shifting culture among the residents. Residents move in, live out their remaining years, and then pass on or move out to spend their last moments in a less institutional setting.
Still A Dream
My dream, as a resident, is to break down that dividing line to form a unifying culture in which residents are valued for who they are. Residents bring their whole selves into residency, and their talents can be as varied as the talents of the pool from which senior living draws its employees and executives.
Anna Hall understands this instinctively. She is a remarkable woman. She’s also a consummate storyteller. One lesson I’ve learned from Steve Moran is the importance of storytelling. As I’ve gotten to know Anna Hall, I’ve been drawn to her podcast in which she tells stories on behalf of her employer, Front Porch, but many of these same stories provide wisdom for all who serve, interact, or engage with people who are aging.
Anna Hall has an empathetic nature, perhaps attributable to her own life journey. Not only does Anna listen to the most intimate concerns of residents and others, but she also openly shares her own travails. We all have ups and downs in our personal stories, but many are reluctant to share the downside. Anna has the warmth of an open soul who has the courage to share. That’s remarkable.
Story Power
Changing a culture can be difficult and takes time. I’m sure that there are some on the Front Porch Board who see the cultural bright line as necessary, one that subordinates capable residents. That’s just speculation, but it reflects what I was shocked to encounter when I moved in nearly twenty years ago. Anna Hall’s gift for bringing out stories can melt the hearts of even the most hardened moguls.
Over recent years, there has been a welcome trend toward humanizing residents. For Front Porch, Sean Kelly and Anna Hall’s efforts toward humanization have been like a waft of fresh air entering a musty room. It’s as though residents can begin to breathe again.
Staff, too, benefit from the change. The lower the level in the hierarchy, the more likely employees are to work closely with residents. They come to know and like them. They can even become friends.
Fraternization
At one time during my residency, fraternization with residents could be grounds for dismissal, and I’m sure that there are still providers where that remains true. Perceptions have to change before residents are seen by corporate, particularly, for their humanity. Residents are more than a sale or a revenue source. If lower-level employees are closest to the industry’s customers, then corporate offices are the most distant.
The industry spills a lot of ink speculating about how an emerging generation of new residents will change it. In the meantime, though, the industry has been slow to react. Instead of speculating from a distance, Anna Hall is out there modestly getting to know people and bringing their stories to the fore. It’s not the touchy-feely getting to know residents that some people insist on, i.e., positive, happy, complacent residents only. Anna listens to the feelings of disappointed residents and those who feel unheard.
Back to Basics
The title of this article is “Senior Living Is a People Business.” We can get so caught up in financing issues or development opportunities that we can easily lose sight of the primacy of people. Residents can seem so distant that it’s easy to overlook the role they can also have as investors.
Residents may have ideas for making buildings more inviting. People, residents, create a home; architects create drawings. Many modern buildings are cold and industrial. Resident ideas should be considered. Anna Hall is bringing warmth beyond drawings to Front Porch and the industry. The senior living industry is at its best when residents are creatively kept front of mind.
Thank You
Thank you, Sean Kelly, for bringing Anna Hall to us. I hope that she can make a practical difference by lifting Front Porch, perhaps under a new corporate name, to become a leading paradigm for the industry. A few others are there already. You know who you are, and you should feel proud of having that welcoming stature. The industry will grow stronger as more and more providers join that lofty elite of empowering providers.
Now, maybe we can delete the word “Retirement” from the name “Carlsbad by the Sea Retirement Community.” It sends the wrong impression. We are a community of vibrant residents served by a gifted staff who are worthy of human dignity and a lifetime of purpose and meaning.
One thing is clear. Many residents now have lifelong productivity. The time when people just “retired” to lifelong nothingness is in the past. Break down barriers. We can all thrive together.
This is one in a series of articles exploring how providers, residents, and resident families might work together for better aging.

By Leslie Quintanar
My dad passed away on June 10th at 3:19 p.m. To say the least, we had a very complicated relationship. For the last seven months, I was the one who managed his frequent hospital and skilled nursing stays.
When I got “the call” early that morning that he had been taken back to the hospital and was intubated, I knew the time had come.
We had talked about hospice multiple times, and he wasn’t ever quite sure that he wanted to take that step. But I knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, he would never have wanted to be hooked up to tubes and all the corresponding paraphernalia. That made the decision easy when I got to the hospital. I was able to get hospice started right away, and he passed peacefully within an hour of removing the tubes and IVs.
I am so very grateful that I got to be with him at his bedside, playing his favorite song, holding his hand, and reading him some scripture. I am hopeful he knew I was with him in those last moments.
Why I Share This …
I share all this not because I am trying to solicit sympathy, but because I work in the senior living space, and after 20+ years, this is the first time it’s been this personal. It has prompted me to reflect on how I can use this experience to become a better practitioner of my own vocation.
While I am sure I will have additional thoughts over time, here are my big takeaways …

You must advocate for your loved ones because no one else will. I cannot emphasize that enough. When I think about all the residents my organization oversees, I realize many do not have people who can or will do this, which makes me even more resolved to ensure that our care is not only compassionate but that we speak up for those who do not have a voice to do so themselves.
While having hard conversations is never easy, it’s imperative to make sure you know your loved ones’ wishes. I became my dad’s POA a few months ago, and I’m thankful we were able to have those conversations, so I didn’t have to wonder what he would have wanted.
Our healthcare system is broken. I work in this space and saw a number of things that shouldn’t have happened. Instances when I should have been consulted, but wasn’t.The best example of this was when I arrived at the hospital and found he was wearing a DNR band, yet was still intubated. Several similar things happened during his last six months, and I am convinced there would have been more if I had not been there.It is simply not safe to assume that people in healthcare positions will always make the right choices for your loved ones. You need to be educated and active in their care. I want to always assume good intent, but at the same time, trust needs to be earned.
There are so many amazing people who work in the senior living and long-term care space. My dad was not always the easiest to deal with, and I had a challenging relationship with him throughout my life, but the people who cared for him in these final months did not share that history. Person after person at both the hospital and the skilled nursing facility told me that he was one of their favorite patients and that they loved caring for him. It was both surprising and comforting that the man I had long known to be so difficult was well-loved by so many others.It has allowed me to think about him in a different light, to see him from a different vantage point, to lay down much of my history and baggage, and see a different man.
AI can do a lot of things, but it will never be able to replace the human element, the uniquely human ability to reach out and share sorrow. The big idea that we are all in this together.

I am still grieving, and it is painful to say I never had the relationship with my dad that I wished for. I’m so thankful that so many others walked the path of losing him with me. Family, friends, employees, and even Lyft drivers carried me through this experience.
I’m incredibly thankful to have “jumped” the fence to the other side and experienced this not as an operator but as a daughter.
As I return to work, I’ll carry this with me and allow it to serve as a reminder that we are in the business of caring for people. It’s often messy, complicated, and hard, but being there makes all the difference in the world.

By Steve Moran
Jerry Morgan has been riding Harley-Davidsons with a crew of fellow Roadhouse employees for more than twenty years. One year, they rode from New York to California. He’s 65, and he opened the chain’s first Texas location himself, in Grand Prairie, back in 1997.
Here’s what he said about a plate of food. “When you serve somebody a country fried sirloin, and it’s got gravy, that gravy should have steam coming off of it. You should smell it in your nostrils.” Then he added, “We still have a lot of work to do, but every single experience, to me, that food is our trophy.”
I read that, and it stopped me cold!
Food should be the trophy. Not just eaten. Felt. Experienced.
What’s the trophy in senior living, or whatever your business is?
Continue reading on Practical Passionate Leadership (Substack) for free …

By Steve Moran
In 1960, Del Webb opened a retirement community in the Arizona desert, and people lined up.
They lined up not because they were scared. Not because their kids made them. Because at a certain age, the idea of a community built around people in the same life stage, with the golf courses and the activity clubs and the neighbors who weren’t going to judge you for retiring at 60, sounded amazing. 
Sun City worked because it was aspirational. The Villages, in spite of all the negative press, works for the same reason. And Margaritaville, the retirement community concept built around the Jimmy Buffett lifestyle, is crushing it for the same reason. These are communities people choose with something that looks almost like enthusiasm. A 48-year-old doesn’t want to move there. A 63-year-old who’s starting to think differently about what the next ten years could look like? Different conversation.
Senior Living
Traditional senior living (assisted living, memory care, independent living) largely lost, or maybe never really figured out, the aspirational living proposition. I think it’s worth asking why and whether it’s possible to get it.
Here’s what I think happened: as the industry matured, it leaned harder into care. More regulation, more clinical sophistication, more focus on what the community could do for residents with increasing needs. All of that was appropriate and necessary. And if we are honest, it created a serious opportunity for increasing the rates we charged in the form of care fees.
The Problem
The cultural cost was real. Communities started feeling less like places people chose and more like places people ended up.
The marketing followed the culture. Brochures full of smiling seniors with kind caregivers. Emergency response systems prominently featured. Language about “dignity” and “peace of mind,” which, read honestly, is language about decline management.
Prospects, at least the younger, healthier, more independent ones the industry most needs to attract, said, “No thanks, not for me, not yet anyway,” doubling down on aging in place. 
The Question
So here’s the Sun City question I keep coming back to: what would it take to build something that a healthy, active, socially engaged 70-year-old would actually look forward to? Not tolerate. Not accept as a reasonable option. Actually want?
Or is it even possible to do so and really call it senior living? 
We have to start by being honest about the really hard reality that if we can do this, it requires a product change, not just a marketing change. You can’t slap new language on an unchanged experience and expect different results. If the programming calendar is still built around a frailer, more sedentary resident, the 70-year-old, or even the active 80-year-old, you’re trying to attract, is going to see that on the tour and leave.
I do believe there is an opportunity here to create something genuinely worth anticipating, something that will have a significant competitive advantage in the decade ahead. Not just in occupancy, but in culture, in word-of-mouth, in the quality of the experience they’re able to create.
The Key Insight
The key insight from Sun City isn’t the golf courses. It’s the aspiration. It’s the sense that moving there is a move toward something rather than away from something. That choosing this community is a statement about who you are and how you want to live, not an admission that you can no longer fully manage on your own.
Senior living can get back there. But it’s going to require honesty about what actually has to change and a willingness to build something different, not just describe the same thing differently.
That’s harder. It’s also more worth doing.

By Jack Cumming
Midway through my sophomore year in college, a classic book appeared describing the corporate experience. One observation was:

“Management has tried to adjust the scientist to the organization rather than the organization to the scientist. It can do this with the mediocre and still have a harmonious group. It cannot do it with the brilliant, only freedom will make them harmonious.” [William H. Whyte, The Organization Man]

That’s still true today of hierarchical organizations. Hierarchy is prevalent in senior living. No wonder that the industry lags others in technology and organization. Hierarchy often leads to job stagnation that leaves employees feeling vaguely dissatisfied. What was true all those years ago is still true today. It’s best to leave at home that which distinguishes you and, at work, adapt to the hierarchy.
Stay or Leave
Human nature remains human nature. We are individuals who are at our best when we come together naturally for a shared purpose. We have that when friends come together to build an innovative startup. We lose that when we are hired as subordinates to someone we don’t respect. Unfortunately, the latter happens more often than is generally recognized.
Innovative thinkers are inherently nonconformist, and they are not always pleasantly well-rounded. They may be the key to an organization’s future, but they may not fit into the sterile step-by-step advancement structure common in hierarchy. You may be one. If you feel unseen and unheard at work, it may be that you don’t belong there.
Now, a new book has just appeared that makes this point for today’s generation. Just as Whyte focused on “scientists” instead of brilliance generally, so this new book is narrowly focused on a single profession, even though its wisdom applies generally to people working in corporate structures. Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose [meaning].
Be Your Best Self
If you are a regular reader of Senior Living Foresight, you likely are not a person who fits seamlessly into the mediocrity of corporate structure. SLF is uniquely focused on the future of senior living and on possibilities for positive change rather than defense of the status quo. For you, the message extracted from this new book may be just the push you need.
To get benefit from it, though, substitute “talent” for the author’s preoccupation with his own chosen profession. He’s an actuary, and the book is The Independent Actuary by Syed Raza, but it’s more than that. It could be titled The Independent Thinker,” and you can read it as that. In fact, you can act on its message without reading it. If you want to read it, though, you can without cost if you subscribe to Kindle Unlimited.
This article is not to hawk a book but to share organizational and personal wisdom. I include the book just to ascribe credit where it is due. You may like the regularity of a recurring paycheck effortlessly deposited into your bank account, but that comes with a high-risk exposure.
Safety in Numbers
Mr. Raza’s insight is that you can be much more secure if you have multiple employers, and that you will also gain personal growth. With several clients, instead of a single employer, you can lose a client and still have a livelihood bridge to a replacement client. The stagnation of a hierarchical corporate career can stunt your growth. To quote Mr. Raza:

“Early in your career, risk is lower, recovery is easier, and optionality is wide. Later on, though, your lifestyle locks in, your mortgage grows, your identity hardens, and fear increases. The result? The cost of waiting rises.”

The antidote to job stagnation leading to career stagnation and a lackluster work life is to break free from corporate seduction and to treat your career as your primary business challenge. In short, Mr. Raza observes that you can become a business instead of working for a business. The one choice leads to independence and income security. The other leads to dependence and stagnation.
Mr. Raza writes of how easy it is to be lured into a false contentment with an excessive workload, sacrifice of your family, etc., all in the name of carrying a corporate position. The risk of false contentment, he adds, “often goes unnoticed until something forces you to confront it, like: a layoff, a restructuring, or a desire to leave.”
To help you understand if this fits you, he asks, “Is your compensation determined by the market or by a salary band?” Good question. Are you paid what you’re worth or by HR policies?
It Just Makes Sense
The answer Mr. Raza and logic offer is to go out on your own. You can be a consultant, a freelance worker, a gig worker, or a project worker. What determines your work status for the IRS, a key determination, is primarily control. The more direction and control a business has over a worker’s schedule, methods, and equipment, the more likely that worker is an employee. It’s likely that this artificial control is exactly what is making you dissatisfied.
The challenge is to find clients. It’s best to have several clients or many. Start with where you work. Your current employer can be your first client. Never burn bridges to your employer by unloading in your departure all the injustice you may feel you experienced. If you’re leaving, you know that your employer has an opening. If the company has the flexibility to use an independent contractor to get the work done, you may be the best person for that.
The alternative to constructive leaving might be to form a union. We can put that out of our minds right at the start. Unionization immediately sets up an employee organization at odds with the employer. Better is to help conform the employer toward a better business model.

As an aside relevant to SLF readers, some residents in senior living have suggested forming consumer “unions” to bargain with providers by using the paying of fees into escrow as equivalent to a strike. Labor unions, though, are protected by law and consumer unions are not. It’s better to work with others than to foster conflict.

Beyond seeking to support the employer you are leaving, finding clients is the same as finding a new job after losing the job you’ve had. You, though, will be in an enviable position of controlling your leaving instead of being laid off or, worse, being let go for cause. The important thing is to make your availability known. You do that by publishing, posting, and networking. LinkedIn is a good place for that, and industry publications are another. Mr. Raza offers other suggestions.
It’s Less Risky Than You Imagine
My own experience, which Mr. Raza indicates is his as well, is that clients come more readily than what you fear. I remember a friend who preceded me into working independently telling me when I was first on my own, “Don’t worry about clients. Once people know you’re available, work will just come in over the transom.”
If you’re a low-level employee, start a trash management and cleaning business. If you’re midlevel, say a maintenance or enrichment director, start a related service, demonstrating how clients like your last employer can get better service at a lower cost by retaining you. You have the major advantage of being able to spread the cost of services over several clients.
It’s Not Your Fault
Finally, don’t blame yourself if your career is languishing in stagnation. You may rationalize that you deserve the treatment you’ve been enduring. You don’t. If you work in a hierarchical company, your boss may feel threatened by your know-how, competence, and pace of delivering results. You can never know when your boss may be poisoning your reputation within the company for the self-serving purpose of framing circumstances for your dismissal.
As employers move to the flexible economy, the ingenuity unleashed by moving beyond hierarchy will benefit their businesses as well. By going out on your own, you’re not being disloyal to your employer. It may start a laggard business on a new course toward greater success. If you still need encouragement, click on this sentence for an anecdote from renowned business professor Seth Godin. Take the jump, open your parachute, and land safely. If that’s too academic, click here to listen to Tom Brady.

By Steve Moran
I attend 15 to 25 conferences a year. I have conversations with thousands of leaders, some casual and some amazingly deep. I’ve been doing this long enough that it should feel routine. And yet I am still terrified walking into every single one.
A while back I started doing short one-question street interviews. The format is simple: I walk up to a stranger and say something like, “I’m doing a series of one-question interviews. Can I interview you?”
That’s it.
Easy ask.
Low stakes.
Except it isn’t. Not for me.
Every time. Every day. That first approach is almost paralyzing. In truth, there have been days I didn’t do it at all because fear won. I stood there with every intention of walking up to someone and just … didn’t.
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