#14
The Globalist
April 1, 2002
Russia: Where 77 Equals 92
By Alexei Bayer

My father lived until he was 77 years old. That is not particularly old by Western standards. But he didn't live in the West. He lived in Russia, where he was born in 1924 — the same year Vladimir Lenin, the leader of the communist revolution, died at the age of 54. And in Russia, my father was a wonder of longevity. After all, this is a land where male life expectancy, according to the World Heath Organization, is just 56.1 years.

Russia has seen a dramatic decline in life expectancy over the past 10 years. Between 1990 and 1994, the worst years for Russia's health care, age-adjusted mortality sky-rocketed by 33%.

How about 77 = 98?

If my father had lived in the United States, his record of longevity — he outlived the average life expectancy of a Russian male by 37% — would have made him 92 years old. That's because life expectancy for American males at 67.5 years is much higher than in Russia.

Russia, until a decade ago considered "the other superpower," ranks 91st on the WHO list of overall longevity, which includes men as well as women. This puts Russia below such world powers as Tunisia and Surinam.

The United States of America, meanwhile, holds 24th place. Americans rank dead last among the leading industrial nations known as the Group of Seven. The longest living people are the Japanese, the Australians and the French. In fact, had my father been Japanese, his longevity record at present would make him more than 98 years old.

Smoking and drinking to death

Not surprisingly, my father outlived most of his friends and contemporaries in Russia — men as well as women. His male friends started dying when I was still a kid — and they were in their mid-40s.

Russia has always been an unhealthy place to live. The government owned everything and criticism of its way of doing business was strongly discouraged. There was no freedom of press and no independent judiciary. There was no way to criticize communism — but, equally important, private citizens could not raise their voices against pollution or dangerous food additives.

Not an American problem?

Plus, Russians have traditionally led suicidal lifestyles. Over two-thirds of Russian males and one-third of Russian women smoke. The Russian cigarette market is the fourth-largest in the world, and the fastest-growing. Tobacco companies sell a whopping 300 billion cigarettes per year. That's over 5 cigarettes per day for each man, woman and child.

And, of course, drinking has always been Russia's favorite pastime. In 1996, more than 35,000 Russians died from alcohol poisoning — about 115 times more than more than in the United States.

So, when Russia's paternalistic state collapsed, and, like children let out from early from school, Russians used their newly found freedoms to overindulge.

Sacrificing for the motherland

While they led, communist ideologues always stressed sacrifice by the individual for the sake of the common good. Considering that the Russian state — the self-appointed guardian of the common good — was the one paying pensions, dying before one reached the age of retirement actually was the most altruistic thing a Soviet citizen could do.

Even then, pensions were nothing more than a mere pittance. The retirement age for Russian men is 60 years, which means that the average Russian dies nearly four years before he could start getting paid his state pension.

Incidentally, by law Russian women retire earlier, at the age of 55. Given those terms, they actually manage to take revenge for the all too short life of their men. Since their life expectancy is longer, at 66.4 years, they draw pensions on average for over 10 years. On the other hand, what they have to look forward to is 10 years of widowhood, a period that is twice as long as that for American women.

Spiking death rates

Why did Russian death rates sky-rocket in the post-communist era? One reason is the social collapse and the psychological trauma once the communist system disintegrated. Many older people who had always believed in the bright communist future — or at least in Russia's imperial power — sank into deep depression.

But there is another aspect of the problem. The Soviet government never paid any real money to its workers, and therefore had trouble motivating people to work. People preferred drinking to putting in long hours at work.

Russia ranks 91st on the WHO list of overall longevity, which includes men as well as women.

To combat habitual lateness and absenteeism among workers, the sale of alcoholic beverages was severely restricted. In the Soviet Union, you couldn't buy liquor anywhere before 12 noon — or after 11 p.m.

In today's Moscow, everything goes. Vodka is plentiful and cheap — and is available at any hour of day or night. There are literally hundreds of domestic brands and plenty of imports. It is also available in 12-ounce cans at the subway stations. That way, you can have your first drink on the way to the office.

Damage to the economy

Liquor stores today display all the conveniences of a market system and consumer society. But they also encourage Russians, who are used to Big Brother watching over them, to fly off the handle.

This is bad for their health and, ultimately, for the economy. American demographics data show that people over 50 are the most valuable economic players in society. They have the most experience, they are the most stable and have the highest earning power. They also save the most.

Economic value of the baby boom

Not surprisingly, America's economic prowess increased dramatically in the 1990s, once baby boomers began to turn 50. By not taking care of its health crisis, Russia is depriving itself of an important source of economic strength — and further undermines its ability to catch up with world economic powers.

Biography

Eastern Europe Editor

Alexei Bayer

Alexei Bayer specializes in international capital markets, political risk and emerging economies. He particularly focuses on Russia and Eastern Europe.

Currently the head of his own consulting firm KAFAN FX Information Services, Mr. Bayer previously served as Senior Financial Markets Economist at the Economist Intelligence Unit and worked at Standard & Poor's, serving as Managing Editor of CreditWire, an electronic bond rating service. Mr. Bayer, who was born in Russia, has contributed to the op-ed pages of the Wall Street Journal, the New York Times, and the Financial Times. He is also a weekly columnist for the independent Russian newspaper, Vedomosti, and is the Eastern Europe Editor and a regular contributor to theGlobalist.