By 2030 projections are there will be 165,000 Alaskans age 60 and older, according to a new report.
We have a lot of official state things in Alaska. I know, "things" is a little vague, but I'll give you some examples. We have an official state bird, the willow ptarmigan. We have an official state gem, jade. We even have an official state insect, the four-spot skimmer dragonfly (Did anyone tell mosquitoes about this?) But, and this is the curious part, we have no official state word.
We Alaskans are a literate people, and, in my humble opinion, I think we need an official state word. As you might expect, I have just such a word which will also fit nicely with the theme of this commentary: "kriechen."
I don't know much Yiddish but I know "kriechen." Apparently borrowed from German, it means "moving slowly." It can refer to a person's physical or mental state, or it can refer to an inanimate object such as the wheels of bureaucracy. The word carries with it a hint of humor or irony. Perfect.
Moving on to the main event, we have a very readable three-page report released April 2026: "Population change so far in the 2020s," by David Howell, state demographer. Maybe you're thinking, "Boring statistics for eggheads." But no. This is about you, your life, and your future. Keep reading. First, the big picture context:
"Our latest population estimates show Alaska grew by about 0.2 percent from 2024 to 2025, reaching 738,737. That slow growth was in line with the very minor population changes we've seen each year so far this decade." That's kriechen.
But look specifically at young people in Alaska: "A compounding factor is the youth population decreasing steadily over the past decade.... The number of Alaskans under 18 fell by 5,000 over the first five years of the 2020s, primarily in the youngest age groups. Since 2020, the number of kids in Alaska from birth to age 4 has decreased from 48,100 to 43,300." That's going backwards.
Regarding seniors, please indulge this little illustrative story. I first came to Alaska in the early 1980s. When I went out to eat, older diners were indeed pretty sparse. The dominant demographic was typically somewhat rowdy younger folks. I know because I was one of them. It was a much younger state then. Nowadays when I hit the local restaurants it's a sea of silver hair. Diners who are coming and going are sedately kriechen about. There is a reason for this change.
According to the author of the report, in the year 2000 there were fewer than 40,000 seniors in Alaska 65 or older. They represented about 4% of the total population. Today there are nearly 120,000 seniors in Alaska representing approximately 16% of the population. That's an extraordinary growth rate. We may be kreichen around as individuals, but as a demographic we are winning the marathon.
How about our future? Not only will we be around, but there will be more of us. A lot more of us. By 2030 projections are there will be 165,000 Alaskans age 60 and older, according to "The Alaska State Plan for Senior Services FFY 2024 – FFY 2027." And the population 80 and older will almost triple over the next 30 years. That's us enjoying the good life in the Great Land (fingers crossed). But at the risk of putting a damper on this "Golden Years" vision, we've got a few challenges coming up. The State Plan also notes that, "The State of Alaska resources for funding senior services and housing are flat or declining, due primarily to inflation. Alaska must plan for how to provide services for active seniors, those needing assistance to live independently, and those with more complex medical and social needs. People are living longer and the numbers of seniors with dementia, chronic health conditions, and behavioral health needs are also increasing proportionately."
Sometimes I whine to friends and family about the unending parade of health and well-being issues that follow me and most of us along the path to our next birthday and into our next decade. A snarky friend of mine described growing older as "death by a thousand cuts."
But his rants usually conclude with an observation that these troubles "beat the alternative."
Well, true enough. And the other side of it is that we seniors have the wisdom of experience. We made mistakes and learned from them. We were young and know what happens next. We understand each other. We can be terra firma for younger people as well as our peers trying to survive a chaotic world. And the good news is that every year there will be more of us in Alaska to make our important contributions.
On the outside we may be kriechen but on the inside we are solid.
Lawrence D. Weiss is a UAA Professor of Public health, Emeritus, creator of the UAA Master of Public health program, and author of several books and numerous articles.
