Pages

Total Pageviews

Monday, August 25, 2014

Longevity and mortality of epidemiologists

So far as I know, nobody has studied the epidemiology of epidemiologists - life expectancy, causes of death, and so forth. If this is so, it's surprising. I'm out of touch, haven't been reading epidemiological journals for a few years, so if somebody has published a learned article on the topic, I'd not have seen it. But surely I'd have heard about it. If one of our graduate students in the 2014-2015 intake is searching for a thesis topic, I'll suggest this, and an inquiry into causes of death.  Most epidemiologists seem to die of old age. None die of smoking-related diseases. About 99% of epidemiologists are non-smokers, thanks to the findings of two or three of our great ones.  All, so far as I know, have retained intact minds until their death.

I've reflected on this odd fact than no epidemiologist has studied the defined population of epidemiologists in light of the latest die-off of distinguished elderly epidemiologists. All my personal role models, heroes and mentors are now dead, almost all of them after living productive and long lives well into their 90s. Austin Bradford Hill, deaf as a post from his middle 90s onward, just made it to his centennial. So did John Pemberton, WHO consultant in Indonesia with me in 1972. Richard Doll and Jerry Morris almost made it: both died at 98; Lester Breslow was almost as old, 97 I think. And my American mentor, Kerr White, has just died at 97, followed a few weeks later by Mervyn Susser who was 93. Pat Buffler, who was to have become president of the IEA this month, died unexpectedly a few months ago, but she was at least 20 years younger. There have been a few other eminent leaders of my trade who died younger, but the modal age at death seems to be well into the 9th or 10th decade. I have only 2 years and 3 weeks to go to reach 90, and on present indications I seem rather likely to make it. I'm not entirely delighted to say this. I feel that I've lived long enough, I often get lonely without my beloved Wendy, and were it not for curiosity about what might happen tomorrow, and what my grandchildren will be doing ten years from now, I'd be content to fall off my perch today.

No comments:

Post a Comment