The Value of Our Labour: What Really Keeps the World Turning
People often say that money makes the world go round.
I am not convinced.
Money is a tool. It is a way of measuring exchange, value, and survival in the world we live in. But money itself does not move people. People move people.
What truly keeps the world turning is care.
Before there was currency, there was community. Before there were markets, there were families, neighbours, and people supporting one another through daily life. Human beings are relational by nature. We are wired to connect, to protect, and to care.
This is where the real value of labour begins.
Much of the most important work in society is unpaid.
It is the parent who wakes before dawn to prepare a child for school.
It is the family member who assists a DeafBlind loved one with communication, mobility, and access.
It is the volunteer who gives their time to support a community organisation.
It is the neighbour who checks in, helps with transport, or assists with grant applications.
It is the emotional labour of listening, guiding, and holding space when someone is in crisis.
This is labour.
It may not appear on a payslip.
It may not be counted in formal economic reports.
But it carries real value.
In fact, the formal economy often depends on unpaid labour in order to function. Many people are able to participate in paid work because someone else is providing unpaid care and support behind the scenes.
This raises an important question:
What would happen if unpaid workers stopped for just one week?
Who would care for children, elders, disabled persons, and those in need of support?
Who would keep households running?
Who would provide the daily acts of care that make participation in society possible?
The answer is simple: systems would begin to fail.
Schools, workplaces, clinics, and communities all rely on invisible labour that is rarely recognised and almost never financially valued.
If every unpaid hour had to be replaced by paid support, the cost would be enormous.
But the cost is not only financial.
The real cost would also be measured in dignity, safety, wellbeing, and human connection.
This is why we must challenge the idea that value only exists where money exists.
Some of the most valuable work in society never enters the market.
Caregiving.
Volunteering.
Community building.
Advocacy.
Support.
These are the roots from which the rest of society grows.
But this leads to a deeper question.
If unpaid labour is so essential, why is it so often overlooked?
Because value is not only economic.
It is social.
It is cultural.
It is shaped by history, power, and systems.
For a long time, societies have prioritised productivity over care, independence over interdependence, and income over wellbeing.
Work that generates money is recognised.
Work that sustains life is often expected.
Our lived realities shape what we value.
For some, independence and income are the highest priorities.
For others, stability, care, and belonging matter most.
For many disabled persons, value is shaped by access to support, experiences of exclusion, family structures, and societal expectations.
In some cases, harmful messages have suggested that disabled people are less productive, and therefore less valuable.
These messages are not true.
But they have influenced how people see themselves, and what they feel they are allowed to prioritise.
As barriers begin to be removed, new possibilities are opening. Tools such as artificial intelligence are beginning to improve access, communication, and participation for many.
Disabled persons are contributing, leading, creating, and shaping society in powerful ways.
But not everyone will prioritise the same path.
And that matters.
Because true inclusion is not about forcing one definition of value.
It is about recognising many.
Money does not make the world go round.
Care does.
And when we begin to recognise the true value of our labour, both paid and unpaid, we also begin to recognise the value of one another.
Value is not only what we produce.
It is also how we live, how we care, and how we choose to belong.