Retirement used to mean the end of the alarm clock. For a growing number of older Americans, it now means picking up a second shift on Uber.
Stu Goldberg, 74, holds a Ph.D. in neuropsychology and spent decades running his own business. He never imagined he'd be ferrying strangers through New York City at night. But when his retirement finances didn't go as planned, he turned to Uber — and found something unexpected. "I like the freedom. I like the flexibility. I like meeting people," he said.
Goldberg is far from alone. Across the country, a wave of seniors is "unretiring" — returning to work not out of boredom, but out of financial necessity. And increasingly, the gig economy is where they're landing.
The Numbers Tell a Stark Story
About 1 in 5 Americans over age 50 who are not yet retired say they have no retirement savings at all, according to a January 2025 AARP survey. For many who have retired, Social Security and modest pensions simply don't stretch far enough in today's economy. Gig platforms — Uber, Lyft, Rover, Poplin — offer a lifeline: income on your own terms, with no résumé required.
More Than Money
For some, the draw isn't purely financial. Barbara Baratta, 72, retired as a pediatric nurse in 2018 but got restless after a few years. She signed up with Rover, a pet care app, and now walks dogs and uses her nursing skills to administer medications to cats. The work keeps her active — she gets her steps in and does hill climbing.
Baruch Schwartz, 78, was a wedding photographer for decades until the physical demands became too much. He started driving for Uber and Lyft and says he now feels a deep sense of purpose. "I feel like I'm on a mission," he said after dropping off a passenger returning from kidney dialysis.
For Goldberg, the rides have become unexpectedly rich. One night he talked Scottish history with a historian who brought up Braveheart. Another passenger asked him for relationship advice about proposing. "I'm amazed at what people will tell me," he said.
The Real Costs of Gig Work
It's not all heartwarming conversations and flexible schedules. The gig economy comes with real financial hazards that can hit older workers especially hard.
Goldberg hit three potholes in three weeks, paying $144 each time to replace tires. He lost money those weeks, despite putting in the hours. "I'd say most drivers are not happy with the money they're making," he said, "unless they're working more hours than I'm willing to do."
Experts and retirees alike point out that gig work offers limited job protections, and wages may not cover on-the-job expenses that can't be written off as tax deductions. There's no employer-sponsored health insurance, no paid leave, and no automatic retirement contributions — ironic, given that many of these workers are turning to gig work because their retirement savings fell short.
Working Smarter on the Apps
Some gig workers in their 60s and 70s have figured out how to navigate the platforms strategically. LisaKay Foyle, 64, of Orange, Texas, uses Poplin — an app that connects her with clients who need laundry help. With seniority on the platform, she accepts only express orders, which pay the highest rates, and turns down lower-paying work.
Baratta earns between $1,000 and $2,000 per month through Rover, which supplements her pensions and Social Security. She charges $20 for a half-hour dog walk, though the app keeps around 20% of her earnings. It's not a windfall — but it helps.
A New Kind of Retirement
The rise of the "unretired" reflects something deeper than a few individuals making ends meet. It signals a structural shift in how Americans are aging into their later years — one where the traditional model of retirement as a clean break from work no longer fits the economic reality for millions.
The gig economy, for all its flaws, offers something that formal employment often can't for older workers: access without gatekeeping. No hiring manager scrutinizing your age, no performance reviews, no office politics. Just an app, a car, or a dog leash — and the freedom to decide when you show up.
For Stu Goldberg, that's enough. Before every shift, he opens his notebook and reads his handwritten reminders: no tickets, full stops, watch for pedestrians. Then he drives into the night — PhD and all — making the best of the situation, one conversation at a time.
Based on reporting by the Associated Press.