Silenced Seniors: A Cycle of Care and Compassion or Control and Cruelty?

“The measure of a society is how it treats its weakest members.” – Mahatma Gandhi

In the serenity of early mornings, when birds sing and newspapers rustle, there exists silence too. This silence is often that of older people—not by choice but due to a culture that views age as irrelevant and wisdom as an inconvenience. The gap between support and suppression is much wider than we perceive; their voices are reduced to whispers, views dismissed, and independence often traded for conformity. In homes cloaked in comfort and institutions wrapped in efficiency, the boundary between care and coercion is blurred. 

At face value, caregiving appears to be a compassionate act—food is served, medications are tracked, and safety is ensured. But beneath this routine lies a profound question: at what cost do we care? Seniors are frequently deprived of basic autonomy—when to get up, what to eat, and how to spend their time. Communication is often one-way and instruction-based. While these behaviors may stem from concern, they inadvertently strip away independence. One-size-fits-all schedules replace personal routines, and the subtle erosion of identity is mistaken for discipline.

Psychologically, losing one’s voice is not just about being unheard; it is about being unseen. Research shows that as individuals age, the erosion of decision-making ability can lead to feelings of depression, helplessness, and cognitive decline. When elders are denied participation in decisions about their lives, their sense of purpose begins to diminish. Agency—the ability to choose—is the backbone of self-esteem. Moreover, being unheard is not just frustrating; it is dehumanizing. Psychologists have long emphasized the importance of locus of control. Elders stripped of this experience faster physical deterioration.

Imagine spending decades building a life, only to be told you are now a burden. “Don’t stress about it, we’ll decide for you,” may sound caring but often rings as a denial of dignity. This silencing is not always verbal; it is embedded in gestures. Despite the idealized respect for elders in tradition—touching their feet—modernity often compels us to disregard their voices. Joint families are celebrated, yet many elders are emotionally isolated even amid crowds.

The phrase “It’s for your own good” becomes a convenient excuse to avoid confronting uncomfortable truths. There is also the relentless rush of modern life; the pace at which we operate makes the slower, storytelling, and repetitive needs of the elderly seem inconvenient and out of sync with urgency.

It’s time to reimagine elder care—not as an act of pity but as a partnership. True care begins with conversation and recognizing that dependency in some areas does not equate to incompetence in all. Even small changes can amplify their voices. As an African proverb states, “What the elderly see while sitting, the young may not see even while standing.” Beneath the surface of forgetfulness lies memory, beneath the wrinkles, wisdom, and beneath the silence, a voice still yearning to be heard. Silenced seniors do not need louder caretakers; they need quieter listeners. Because care is not control, and compassion is never cruel. 

After all, what is care if not the courage to trust someone’s voice—even when it quivers?