Real.Good.News.

By Julian Sterling, Senior Anthropological Correspondent
January 17, 2026

In 2026, the halls of Congress are filled with the scent of history, old oak, and, increasingly, high-absorbency polymers. As we grapple with a legislative body where 24 members are over the age of 80—and many more are “Nah, I’m good” to retirement as they eye the 2026 midterms—the satirical hushes of the cloakroom have turned toward a factual, if uncomfortable, reality: a significant portion of our leadership is effectively wearing their insurance policies. 

While “politicians and diapers” has long been a punchline about frequent changes, the biological reality of 2026 is that adult incontinence affects nearly 20 to 50 percent of the aging population. In a gerontocracy where the median age continues to climb despite “hand off the torch” pleas from the electorate, the “diaper rumor” is less a scandal and more a statistical certainty. The truth isn’t shocking because it’s a secret; it’s shocking because we’ve allowed the most powerful deliberative body on Earth to become a high-stakes nursing home where “filibustering” might just be a tactical delay for a quick change. 

The “Governance Gap” has never been more absorbent. As we debate “One Big Beautiful Bill” and the future of AI Sovereignty, we are represented by individuals whose biological hardware is in a state of “Power-Save Mode”. We have mandatory retirement ages for pilots and surgeons, yet we entrust the nuclear football to a demographic that, factually, is the fastest-growing market for adult undergarments. In 2026, the real leak in Washington isn’t a classified document—it’s the silent, padded reality that the people running the future are struggling to manage their own immediate, physical present.