The secret of long life is double careers. One to about age

"The secret of long life is double careers. One to about age sixty, then another for the next thirty years." — so spoke David Ogilvy, the great architect of modern advertising, the man who transformed persuasion into art and business into poetry. His words, though light in tone, are heavy with wisdom. They speak not merely of occupation but of renewal — the courage to begin again when others rest, to refuse the slow fading of the spirit that often accompanies the passing of years. To live long, he suggests, one must keep the mind and heart in motion, for stagnation, not age, is the true enemy of life.

In the manner of the ancients, one might say: the fire that is never rekindled dies, no matter how brightly it once burned. Ogilvy’s quote is born from the experience of a man who lived many lives within one lifetime. Before he became the “Father of Advertising,” he was a chef, a door-to-door salesman, a farmer, and an intelligence officer. Each chapter of his life kindled a new kind of understanding. Thus, when he spoke of “double careers,” he was not speaking in abstraction — he was describing the rhythm of his own existence. For Ogilvy, the second career was not a retreat from life’s toil, but an act of rebirth, a declaration that curiosity need not wither with age.

His insight is both practical and spiritual. The body may weaken with time, but the mind, if fed with challenge and purpose, remains young. Aging, Ogilvy reminds us, is not a matter of years but of surrender — the surrender of ambition, of learning, of the will to create. The one who continues to dream, to strive, to seek new beginnings, defies the boundaries of time. Thus, the secret of long life is not found in medicine or fortune, but in the willingness to begin again, to transform oneself not once but twice, to remain an apprentice of life even in its autumn.

Consider the example of Benjamin Franklin, who lived this truth long before Ogilvy named it. In his youth, he was a printer, a craftsman of words and ideas; in his maturity, a statesman, inventor, and philosopher. When others would have rested on the laurels of success, he set forth again, discovering electricity, founding institutions, and shaping the birth of a nation. Franklin’s genius was not in talent alone but in his capacity to reinvent himself — to see every ending as a threshold. He lived to eighty-four not simply because of health, but because his soul refused idleness.

Ogilvy’s wisdom echoes the same spirit. He reminds us that longevity of years without longevity of passion is a hollow victory. Too many, upon reaching middle age, lay down their tools and say, “I have done enough.” Yet in doing so, they begin to die long before their final hour. The one who seeks a second career, whether in art, teaching, service, or craft, renews the vital energy that sustains both body and soul. This is not ambition in its restless form, but purpose — the quiet flame that keeps the darkness of decline at bay.

The lesson, therefore, is clear: do not let your first success become your final chapter. When the world tells you to retire, ask instead, “What shall I learn next?” Begin again — not because you must, but because you can. The second career need not be grand; it need only be sincere. A gardener who plants new seeds, a scholar who begins a new study, an artist who paints anew — all fulfill Ogilvy’s law of long life. For as long as one creates, one continues to live.

And so, my child, heed the counsel of David Ogilvy, whose own life was proof of his creed. When you reach the age the world calls “old,” laugh and call it “young again.” Seek new crafts, new causes, new ways to serve. Let your second life be the harvest of the first — wiser, freer, more fearless. For it is not the passing of years that we should fear, but the stillness of spirit. The flame that dares to burn twice will burn twice as long, and in its light, you shall find the true secret of long life — to keep beginning, and never stop becoming.