When Americans think about emigrating, they typically focus on career opportunities, cost of living, or quality of life in abstract terms. But there’s a more fundamental calculation that rarely enters the conversation: moving to another developed country could literally add years to your life.
The statistics are stark and consistent. The United States has a life expectancy of approximately 76 years, placing it well behind virtually every other wealthy democracy. Japan leads at around 84 years, followed closely by Switzerland, Spain, Italy, and Australia at 83 years. Even accounting for measurement differences and demographic factors, Americans die younger than their peers in comparable nations by a margin that’s impossible to ignore.
This isn’t about comparing the United States to developing nations or attributing the gap to genetics. We’re talking about similar populations with similar wealth levels, and the discrepancy amounts to five, six, or even seven years of additional life expectancy. That’s not a rounding error. That’s potentially witnessing your grandchildren graduate college instead of only seeing them start elementary school.
The reasons behind this longevity gap are complex and interconnected. Healthcare access stands as the most obvious factor. While the United States spends more per capita on healthcare than any other nation, outcomes lag behind countries with universal systems. Medical bankruptcy doesn’t exist in most other developed countries, and people don’t delay necessary care because they’re worried about bills. Preventive care is routine rather than rationed by insurance coverage.
But the longevity advantage extends beyond healthcare systems. Social safety nets in countries like Germany, France, and the Nordic nations reduce chronic stress that accumulates over decades. When you’re not constantly anxious about losing health insurance if you change jobs, or whether you’ll be able to retire with dignity, or whether your children can afford college without crushing debt, your body doesn’t spend years marinating in cortisol. That chronic stress contributes to heart disease, stroke, and a cascade of other conditions that shorten lives.Urban design matters more than most Americans realize. In the Netherlands, people cycle to work and the grocery store as part of their daily routine, not as deliberate exercise. Japanese cities are built for walking, with mixed-use neighborhoods where daily errands provide natural physical activity. The average European walks significantly more than the average American simply by living their normal life. This passive exercise accumulates over decades into measurably better cardiovascular health.
Diet plays a role too, though not always in the ways you might expect. It’s less about any particular cuisine being inherently healthier and more about food culture and regulation. Many countries have stricter standards on food additives, antibiotics in meat, and pesticide residues. Portion sizes in restaurants are smaller. The culture around eating tends to be more social and less rushed. When meals are treated as social events rather than fuel stops, people eat more slowly, consume less, and digest better.Then there’s the simple matter of vacation time and work culture. Americans work longer hours than workers in nearly every other developed country and take fewer vacation days. The grinding pace of American professional life, the expectation of constant availability, and the fear of being perceived as uncommitted if you actually use your vacation days all contribute to burnout and stress-related illness. In contrast, French workers are legally entitled to five weeks of vacation and the culture supports actually taking it. Germans typically get four to six weeks. Australian workers get four weeks plus public holidays. This isn’t frivolous luxury. Regular rest and recovery keeps people healthier over the long term.
Gun violence and traffic fatalities disproportionately affect American life expectancy compared to other wealthy nations. While these factors primarily impact younger people and therefore have outsized effects on the statistical calculations, they’re still part of the equation. Living in a country with comprehensive gun control and better public transportation infrastructure reduces certain mortality risks that simply don’t exist at the same scale elsewhere.
The economic inequality in the United States also manifests in health outcomes. The gap between rich and poor in terms of life expectancy is wider in America than in most other developed countries. Even middle-class Americans face more economic precarity than their counterparts abroad, and that precarity correlates with worse health outcomes. Countries with more robust social safety nets and less extreme inequality show better health outcomes across all socioeconomic levels.
Climate and environment factor in as well. Many Americans live in areas with poor air quality, extreme heat, or limited access to green space. While developed countries in Europe and Asia certainly have their own environmental challenges, many have invested more heavily in public parks, clean energy, and environmental regulation. Access to nature and clean air isn’t a luxury in much of northern Europe, it’s a baseline expectation.
For Americans considering a move abroad, these aren’t just abstract statistics. They represent real, tangible differences in how you’ll experience your later years. The question isn’t whether you might live slightly longer, but whether you’ll live substantially longer and with better health throughout those years. The concept of “healthspan,” not just lifespan, is crucial here. It’s not just about adding years to your life but adding healthy, active years.
Of course, individual circumstances vary enormously. A wealthy American with excellent health insurance, a stable job, strong social connections, and healthy habits might not see the same benefit from moving abroad as someone facing medical debt and chronic stress. Geographic location matters too, some American communities have life expectancies comparable to other developed nations, while others lag far behind.
The decision to emigrate is deeply personal and involves countless factors beyond health outcomes. Career prospects, family ties, cultural affinity, and simple preference for home all legitimately influence where people choose to live. Not everyone wants to leave, and there’s nothing wrong with choosing to stay for reasons that matter to you.
But the health data should be part of the conversation. When Americans debate the pros and cons of living abroad, longevity deserves a seat at the table alongside job opportunities and cost of living. Those extra years aren’t hypothetical. They’re reflected in mortality statistics, measured in studies, and visible in the demographics of peer nations. Moving to another developed country represents, on average, one of the most significant health interventions available, comparable to quitting smoking or maintaining a healthy weight throughout your life.
The tragedy is that Americans don’t need to leave to capture these benefits. The policies, infrastructure, and systems that produce better health outcomes in other countries aren’t secrets or mysteries. They’re well-documented approaches that the United States could adopt. But until that happens, those extra years of life remain, for many Americans, just a plane ticket away.