“Caregiver” is a lovely word. It conveys all that’s best about humanity, such as our capacity for compassion, selflessness and quality TV programming.

On the other hand, “dope dealer” is an ugly term, carrying connotations of greed, corruption and sports-talk radio.

Strangely enough, in Maine, caregivers and dope dealers are often the same people. It’s as if “Masterpiece Theater” was suddenly interrupted by audio from “The Herd with Colin Cowherd.”

As the state prepares to vote on whether to legalize pot for recreational use, it’s worth noting that a sizable percentage of the illegal weed sold here currently comes from what the law refers to as “medical marijuana caregivers,” a term that conjures up images of humanitarian volunteers sharing doobies with Ebola victims. In reality, this sort of “caregiver” often makes a significant portion of his or her income selling weed to folks who have no health-related excuses to be smoking it.

Caregivers manage to justifying their dope dealing. They’ve told me they only sell to people with medical problems for which marijuana isn’t legally recognized as a treatment option, such as opioid addiction. They’ve told me they consider it wrong to deny the kind bud to those who wish to use it for relaxation. They’ve even occasionally admitted they do it for the money, because care-giving may be heartwarming, but it doesn’t pay the bills.

There are about 3,000 of these caregivers in Maine, each of whom is allowed to grow pot for five patients. By exploiting a legal loophole of constantly rotating their client lists, many caregivers actually serve far more than that. But even this skillful juggling of the books may not be enough to keep up with the high costs of electricity, hydroponics and security systems. So for many, retailing some of the crop to the general public is a business necessity.

How many caregivers are also illegal dealers isn’t known, but estimates by several involved in the sleazy side of the business ranged from 25 percent to 75 percent. By any calculation, that makes caregivers a major player in the illegal drug trade. But despite the criminal implications, that doesn’t mean those involved lack standards.

“I don’t sell to kids,” one caregiver told me. I later witnessed him making a deal with a couple guys who appeared to be not much more than 18. Even if the referendum is approved in November, that transaction still wouldn’t pass legal muster, because the minimum age for pot purchases would be 21.

“If they don’t buy it from me, they’ll get it from somebody else,” another caregiver added. “At least my product is high-quality with no additives or other crap like you might get on the street. It’s the same stuff I sell my medical patients.”

Quality is certainly important, even in the gray market. Caregivers need positive word of mouth, because they can’t expect glowing online reviews on Zagat or Yelp.

Of course, most of this hypocrisy will go up in smoke if the voters decide on Nov. 8 to end the prohibition against pot. Caregivers can stop pretending they’re Florence Nightingale in gardening overalls and embrace their role as entrepreneurs. One caregiver/dealer told me he and others are already drafting business plans.

“We’ll be using the craft beer industry as a model,” he said. “The big guys will try to corner the market, just like Budweiser and Coors, but we’ll market ourselves as premium brands responsive to local tastes, like little breweries do with their tap rooms.”

It would appear that in the much-anticipated legalized future, less of the average caregiver’s business will be off the books. There’ll be semi-accurate spreadsheets for the tax people and dues paid to trade associations and local chambers of commerce. There’ll be marketing budgets and investor opportunities. And there’ll be an intense public relations campaign.

Because these budding horticulturists are going to need a new name for their occupation. “Dope dealer” reeks of criminality and prohibition-era politics. And “caregiver” isn’t going to cut it when it becomes obvious they don’t actually care for their customers or give anything away.

“Pot opportunist” gets points for accuracy, but I can’t see that getting approved by the PR experts.

How about “eco-hedonist”?

Roll up your opinion into one fat email and send it to aldiamon@herniahill.net.