Lee M. Miringoff

May 1, 2001

On May 3^rd, 1951, Casey Stengel’s New York Yankees had the biggest ninth inning in league history when they scored eleven runs to beat the St. Louis Browns 17 to 3. It was also the day I was born.

Although the 1951 baseball season is best remembered for the shot heard ‘round the world and Russ Hodges’: "The Giants win the pennant, the Giants win the pennant." I am always quick to add: "But the Yankees won the series, the Yankees won the series." Now, five decades later I have had occasion to witness tragedy and greatness in our nation and elsewhere. One joy has been the success of the Bronx Bombers and their special current run.

Everyone has their own way to recognize the signs of middle age, but as a member of the community of poll-takers – a somewhat idiosyncratic group – I have chosen the only way I know to come to terms with my advancing status in life: public opinion. Students of public opinion search for insight into the body politic; I want to know more about how the public views this not-so-gracefully aging body.

Sometime ago, as my fourth decade was drawing to a close, I decided to introduce as part of a spring survey a seemingly innocent question. People were asked whether they consider 36 years of age to be young, middle-aged, or old? I concluded a press conference in Albany on then Governor Cuomo’s approval rating by informing the assembled correspondents that the overwhelming number of respondents believed this age to be young. A brief silence in the pressroom was followed by a question from a similarly aged reporter. Searching for a news peg, he inquired about the year of my birth. A chuckle followed and the room emptied.

Each year since, I have repeated the practice. Of course, the age used was increased by "one" each year. This spring, the key question was posed to a national sample: "Do you consider 50 to be young, middle-aged, or old?"

My colleague Dr. Barbara Carvalho, whose name usually accompanies Marist Poll releases (she wants no part of this topic), warned me that the numbers this year were likely to plummet. As a student of public opinion, I have done what any pollster would do – look at the data.

My fears over any dramatic shift from last year’s poll were, along with reports of Mark Twain’s death, greatly exaggerated. To my delight, and foregoing any claims of objectivity, the results do not require significant poll-spin. 27% of Americans consider 50 years of age to be young, 67% believe it to be middle-aged, and a mere 6% consider those born in 1951 to be old. The difference from last year was, as we like to say, within the error margin. The data in no way resembled the switch in attitude from young to middle age that accompanied the poll ten years ago when I left 39 behind.

When I mentioned to Marist Survey Center Director Kathleen Tobin Flusser that the distribution of responses still bunched in the middle, she suggested the large numbers in this middle-aged group might have something to do with the weighting. I reassured her that this was not the case unless her reference to weighting by age had nothing to do with statistics. Getting a little sensitive, am I?

The data calls attention to the adage "where you stand depends upon where you sit." 48% of the people who think 50 is old are themselves 30 years old or less. In contrast, 44% of those who think 50 is young are over 60 years old.

Statisticians are quick to point out that my poll psyche is being supported by the fact that the population itself is getting older and therefore, aging along with me and my surveys. This is an argument I choose, for no valid reason, to disregard.

I am uplifted by these poll results. I also was encouraged by the responses elsewhere in the survey that baseball fans expect the Yankees to 4-peat. I have decided to continue this practice of asking people about my age recognizing that 2011 may not offer as optimistic a data set, at least when it comes to my age and not those wearing pinstripes.