The Way Life Should Be—But at What Cost?
How $5.5 Billion in Unpaid Caregiving Is Quietly Shaping Maine
In Maine, the estimated value of a volunteer hour is about $32.
We use that number to understand the contribution of community members who give their time—whether through nonprofits, local boards, or civic engagement. It helps make visible something that would otherwise be easy to overlook.
But caregiving—often more intensive, more sustained, and far less optional—is rarely framed the same way.
And when it is, the number is staggering.
What Caregiving Replaces
Caregiving doesn’t just add invisible labor to Maine’s economy—it quietly replaces other forms of contribution we actually know how to measure.
It shows up in:
Reduced workforce participation
Delayed or stalled career advancement
Lost income and long-term financial stability
Less time for volunteer and civic leadership
Fewer opportunities for planning and proactive decision-making
Because caregiving is rarely scheduled or predictable, it often takes priority over everything else.
Not by choice—but by necessity.
Why This Falls Unevenly
Because the majority of caregivers are women, this shift doesn’t happen evenly.
It shows up in who:
Moves to part-time work
Steps away from leadership opportunities
Absorbs financial uncertainty over time
These aren’t always visible decisions. But they accumulate—and they shape both individual outcomes and the broader economy.
What We Don’t Account For
Maine’s culture of showing up for one another is real—and it matters.
But when we talk about quality of life, we rarely account for what that model currently depends on.
We don’t often ask:
What would it look like if caregiving were more evenly distributed?
What changes if more of this work were supported, planned for, or shared?
What becomes possible if fewer people have to step out of their own lives to make the system function?
A Different Way to Think About It
If even a portion of caregiving were more formally supported—through earlier planning, better access to care options, or a stronger workforce—several things would likely shift:
More consistent workforce participation
Greater household financial stability
Increased civic and volunteer engagement
More visible and accountable care systems
Care wouldn’t disappear.
But the burden wouldn’t sit in the same place.
The Bottom Line
Maine feels like a place where life is supposed to work.
And in many ways, it does.
But part of that feeling is being quietly carried by people whose time, income, and long-term stability are being traded to make the system hold together.
If we want to preserve what makes Maine strong, we have to be willing to look directly at what it costs—and who is paying for it.
A practical next step
If you’re starting to think about care—for yourself or someone in your family—you don’t have to wait for a crisis to begin making decisions.
The earlier these choices are understood, the more options tend to remain available.
Through Maine Aging Partners, I offer structured ways to think through these decisions—so families can move forward with clarity, not urgency.
If you’d like to explore that, you can learn more here: www.maineaging.com
