I’m sick of this sentimental piffle about Biden being shoved aside, how he broods over the injustice of it, how – as Trump would have it – he was the victim of a “coup.”

I’m a big admirer of Biden and his Presidency; I share his politics; but his exit, far from heroic, was unworthy man or office.

Leadership means doing the right things for the right reasons, while conveying the right ideals. Any leader is a moral exemplar. Here Biden scored high.

Leadership also means communicating, inspiring, swaying one’s followers in a desired direction. Here Biden fell short. Like Demosthenes, he stuttered when young, but unlike the great Greek, he never attained, through coaching and tireless practice, conspicuous eloquence. At his best Biden was an indifferent speaker – and he was getting worse. And he knew it. And all those around him knew it. And after his excruciating appearance beside the appalling Trump, the world knew it. It required no expertise to see that Biden’s health has enfeebled him – as it tends to at that age – and he was either deceiving us about his condition or denying it to himself. And he was risking the future not just of his party – or his nation – but of the whole civilized world by his failure to face his facts. Culpable for running for reelection when he couldn’t cope with the challenge, clinging to office after his calamitous debate was a crime more grave. And yes, he finally came around, after arm-twisting, to the right decision, but such brutal persuasion should never have been necessary. When a commander can’t win, he should resign his command. The recollection of Biden’s weeks of dithering fills me with fury, not admiration at his acquiescence. His egoism wasn’t as monstrous as the Godzilla he opposed, but it was hideous even so. You could have been a hero, Joe, but as it happened, sorry to say, good riddance. And hats off to those who forced you to walk the plank.

Almost magically, events conspired to turn near tragedy into likely triumph. Biden’s successor was ready and capable, his adversary despicable and despised, our peril apparent, the abbreviated timetable precluded politicking, our relief was palpable, and whoosh, lemons were transformed to lemonade, dark to dawn, and hope gusted us. But that was luck. That Biden played craps with the future of mankind and rolled a seven, hurray, but what a chance he took – for what? To defer his retirement for four years – at age eighty-one?!

The unanticipated downside of our modern medical miracle is the old (and repaired) won’t retire when they should, deluding themselves about their undiminished vigor. A gerontocracy might have worked for Native American tribes, when patterns persisted for generations; but we live in a cyclone of change, where science and technology make the past anachronous in an eyeblink. Less than a decade away from the Internet company I founded, I can barely comprehend how it operates today, so rapidly have the ways and means of that industry evolved. I remain fit for some work (I hope), but not that. The ghoulish image of Senator Feinstein haunts – a propped-up mummy – and she was hardly unique in our highest legislative chamber. The average age of the U.S. Senate is 64, of the Roman Senate (where we got the idea) mid-forties. Don’t tell me that difference is negligible.

American businesses and institutions sensibly enforce retirement ages. So must government. Spare good old Joe the anguish of calling it quits – at age eighty-one! He – and I – and all of us oldsters should have bid goodbye long since. Let the strong preside.