After the Finish Line

A few weeks ago I wrote about what I called ‘the other half’ of retirement planning, the emotional and psychological side that the industry has never really addressed. Based on the responses I received, it’s clear that this topic is worth exploring.

In our ​Q2 survey​ at the Oath Money and Meaning Institute, we asked 420 retirees whether they had ever worked with a professional specifically to help them think through the non-financial side of retirement. Only six said yes.

That number is striking. When we asked whether preparing for a fulfilling retirement was important, almost everyone said yes. But, few of you sought professional guidance. I believe that the gap is caused by access.

Part of the reason that access to finding purpose in retirement has never been built is that the industry treats retirement as a finish line. You accumulate, you plan, you arrive, and the assumption is that the hard part is over. What comes after the finish line is largely left to the individual to figure out.

There is simply no established role, no recognized professional, whose job it is to help someone navigating retirement transition to think through what their days will look like, what gives their time meaning, who they want to be now that the work identity has changed.

Financial advisors alone are not equipped for it. Their training, their incentives, and their expertise are oriented around the numbers. They do important work, and that work has clear limits. A portfolio statement cannot tell you how to fill a Tuesday afternoon with something that matters. The number of commas in your net worth won’t make your life decisions feel worthy.

Therapists may be closer, but the fit is not quite right either. Therapy is built around treating what’s wrong, and most people entering retirement are not in crisis. What they are navigating is something subtler and in some ways harder to name.

The structure that organized their days for decades is gone. The identity that came with their work is no longer the primary one. The relationships that proximity made easy now require intention. It is a transition, and transitions have their own specific gravity.

They require a different kind of support than treatment, something more forward-looking, more oriented around clarity and possibility than around what needs to be fixed.

That kind of support exists in other domains. Athletes have coaches, entrepreneurs have mentors, and executives have consultants whose entire job is helping them think clearly through uncertainty. The transition into retirement has almost none of this.

The idea that someone navigating one of the most significant transitions of their life might benefit from the same kind of guidance is not a stretch. It is just something the retirement industry has not yet built.

At Oath, we have been thinking carefully about this gap for some time. Our research keeps pointing toward it, and so do the clients we work with every day.

We will have more to share soon.