Chris Stiffler, Author of Economics In-Other-Words

Colorado’s 2020 ballot was packed: reinstall big bad grey wolves, let working parents take paid cuddle time with newborns, and modernize non-profit bingo—among other issues. This made Colorado’s 2020 ballot feel like the state couldn’t decide whether we were progressive or plotting a wildlife-filled game show.

Back then, Colorado voters sat squinting at their mail-in ballots, trying to decide whether Propuesta 118 (our Permiso familiar retribuido thingamajig) was a stroke of genius or a shiny new way to bankrupt the state.

The program would be funded by a 0.9% payroll tax—split evenly between employers and employees—and provide up to 12 weeks of job-protected paid leave for workers facing a serious health condition, welcoming a new child, or caring for a sick family member.

Opponents of the Paid Family Leave measure—yes, people who were against paying new parents to do nothing but bond with their newborns—launched a dramatic scare campaign.

Their message? “Too many people will take this cushy leave, and boom—bankruptcy for the state!” It was as if they pictured Coloradans mass-leaping from office cubicles, waving infant shoes and medical forms, chanting, “We want 12 weeks of pay for our wolves too!” Or, as one imaginary opponent put it, “Next thing you know, my mailman will be on leave for bonding time for the birth of his sourdough starter.”

Their strategy was to turn Prop 118 into the “Paid Family Leave That Will Eat Colorado” campaign, complete with imaginary bankruptcy clocks ticking down at every DMV.

But before we could either confirm or debunk their vision of fiscal doom, we had to actually run the numbers—no small feat, since estimating the cost of a brand-new program was like trying to predict how many of those newly introduced wolves would show up at your backyard BBQ. We had to determine:

• Take-up rate—basically, how many people would actually use the benefit
• Average length—how long each person’s leave would last
• Wage replacement cost—how much dough the program would need to hand out each week

I’ve been elbow-deep in paid leave modeling since 2013, so by 2020 I was the go-to person explaining these assumptions. I also consulted with professors at the University of Denver who published their projections for Colorado’s Paid Leave Program.

They predicted a 5% take-up rate in year one. That number was based on real-world data from programs in California, New Jersey, and Rhode Island—mixed with specific labor market characteristics unique to Colorado, like birth rates and medical leave claims prompted by wolf attacks.

Fast-forward to today—with Paid Leave fully implemented—and we’re sitting on a full year’s worth (2024) of what economists would call “extremely interesting” and what the average person would refer to as “blessedly dry” numbers. Out of 2,631,607 Colorado workers paying into FAMLI, a total of 131,758 took leave. That’s exactly 5.007%—yes, I did the math to three decimals. The DU study was dead on.

Now, let’s talk about payout. Adjusting our 2013 estimate for inflation gave us an average weekly payout of $890. In 2024, the real-world figure? $914. Just 2.7% off—which, in my book, is uncanny accuracy. (I’ll reference that during my annual performance and salary evaluation.)

Okay, so how are people actually using this thing? Here’s the breakdown of those 2024 claims:

• 47% of folks filed for personal medical leave for themselves
• 34% took parental leave to bond with a new kiddo
• 13% were caring for a sick family member

And the average duration? 51.7 days.

So, people used paid leave exactly as predicted. Our forecasts? Shockingly correct. The program’s usage? Sensible and predictable. The benefits? Well-targeted to health, babies, and caregiving. To recap: the sky didn’t fall, Colorado didn’t go bankrupt, and the DMV is not running an apocalyptic countdown clock. And to my knowledge, not a single paid leave medical claim was caused by wolves.