Imagine, if you will, that every family functions a kind of cooperative
where individuals pool their practical and emotional assets, such
as time, energy, labor, skills,
money, mobility, leisure, love,
and empathy. Needless to say, family members big and small
inevitably pool their needs as well. Some— young children,
frail elderly, the disabled— may have more urgent
needs than others, but every person in a family has irreducible
needs. As a baseline, we all need shelter, food, water, emotional connection,
rest and care. In complex, economically developed societies, most
families depend on a lot of other things to get by— jobs,
health care, transportation, education, public utilities, communication
technology, clean laundry, and various household appliances, for example.
And wherever they happen to live, parents are expected to contribute
a sizable portion of their practical and emotional inventory
to transmitting life skills, social customs and cultural values to the next generation.
Some shared assets, such as love and affection, are renewable and,
ideally, limitless. Others, like money and energy, can expand or
contract depending on the vagaries of circumstance. And some resources
may be exchanged to get more of others, such as paying someone to
provide housecleaning services or child care to allow
some family members to allocate their labor differently or enjoy
more leisure.
On the other hand, some of the resources in the family stockpile
are finite. Labor can be exhausted if the need for sufficient rest
and care are not met, energy generally declines with age, and the
amount of time each person has at his or her disposal is permanently
fixed. There really are only so many hours in a day, and for working
families, there are fequently competing demands for every minute of it.
We’re constantly reminded that “time is money,”
but money isn’t time— no amount of purchasing power
can stretch the temporal envelope of the 24-hour day. When families
are forced to cope with a time deficit, they usually resort to drawing
on other resources to make sure nothing important falls through
the cracks, or they try to utilize their energy more efficiently
in order to do more in less time. They scramble, they reprioritize,
they barter. Workers— including unpaid caregivers— may
also lower their expectations about which personal needs are irreducible
so that things like a good night’s sleep, daily exercise,
regular meals and uninterrupted down time start looking more like luxuries.
Thanks to the recent explosion of media reporting on the work-life
dilemmas of the professional class, we’ve come to accept the
idea that— across the board— Americans are overworked
and stressed to the breaking point. We’ve even been led to
believe that, a) this is the inevitable outcome of living in an advanced technological
society, and b) at some level, it’s good for us. As sociologists
Jerry A. Jacobs and Kathleen Gerson note in The Time
Divide: Work, Family and Gender Inequality, in the
not so distant past an abundance
of leisure time was the hallmark of wealth and privilege. These days, the authors remark, being chronically
overextended is considered something of a status symbol. As they
mapped the contours of the contemporary “time famine,”
Jacobs and Gerson discovered that this attitudinal flip-flop might
be grounded in a recent demographic trend: today, the workers
most likely to put in extra-long hours on the job tend to be upwardly-mobile
professionals with very high levels of education— the best
and brightest. Yet Jacobs and Gerson also found that a growing segment
of the American workforce is critically underemployed, and that
the nation’s deepening time crisis— which they define
as the time divide— is linked to other intransigent
social problems, including income and gender inequality.
Other recent studies of the way Americans use their time have yielded
contradictory results and conflicting theories about why we might
be devoting more hours to paid work. In The Overworked American:
The Unexpected Decline of Leisure (1993), Juliet Schor argued
that a steady increase in working hours over the last 20 years is fueled by the culture of consumerism; Americans are working
harder, she reasoned, because we want more money to buy more stuff.
Arlie Russell Hochschild (The Time Bind, 1997) suggested
that parents in dual-earner couples might be logging in more time
at the office to avoid the general chaos and emotional messiness
of home life. And a time diary study conducted by John Robinson
and Geoffrey Godey (Time for Life: The Surprising Ways Americans
Use Their Time, 1999) found that at the end of the 20th century,
it was leisure time, not working time, that was on the rise.
In fact, when Jacobs and Gerson analyzed historic data on working
hours, they discovered that the length of the average workweek has
remained fairly stable for both male and female workers since 1960,
with men and women clocking in around 42.5 and 35 hours, respectively.
However, the authors contend that comparisons based on individual
averages are misleading because they fail to reflect a significant
increase in the number of hours of paid work per household—
particularly in households with young children, since fewer families
are willing or able to subsidize the career of a single earner with
the unpaid labor of a full-time caregiver— and the growing
number of workers who work either excessively long or relatively
short workweeks. As a result, more workers are feeling overworked
and would like to work less— while at the other
end of the time spectrum, more workers are having trouble making
ends meet and would prefer jobs with more hours and more benefits.
Worker preference and working
hours
Jacobs and Gerson
conclude that “choice” has very little to do with how
much time workers spend on the job— in fact, studies suggest
that as few as 1 out of every 3 workers feels satisfied with the
number of hours they work. “Many forces are promoting a bifurcation
of working time, and it would be dangerously misleading to attribute
all of the difference to matters of personal taste— a view
implying that the longer work schedules of the highly educated represent
neither a mystery or a social problem,” the authors write.
“Personal taste may play a part, but there is a strong reason
to conclude that this difference between the overworked and the
underworked is far more than a simple reflection of workers’
preferences.” Jacobs and Gerson argue that structural factors
have a far greater influence on the lopsided distribution of working time:
Because employers are
not required to pay overtime to professionals who work more than
40 hours per week, and because extra hours of work by exempt employees
do not cost additional wages at all, employers face no strong
incentive to limit such workers to a forty-hour workweek.
The structure and distribution
of benefits, such as health care and other service, also give
employers incentives to divide the labor force. By hiring part-time
workers with no benefits and simultaneously pressuring some full-time
employees— especially salaried workers— to work longer
hours, work organizations can lower their total compensation costs.
The unintended consequence of these cost-limiting strategies is
a division of the workforce into those putting in very long workweeks
and those putting in relatively short ones.
...Those putting in
longer workweeks may face time squeezes and domestic conundrums,
but those putting in shorter ones likely face other difficulties,
such as insufficient income and blocked work opportunities. If
so, then working time is linked to other social and economic inequalities,
and overwork is only one among a more complicated set of economic
and demographic shifts.
They then propose that
some of the most pressing social dilemmas in the U.S. can be framed
as a series of overlapping time divides, each of which can be isolated
but is ultimately compounded by the others:
First, the transformation
of the American household has produced a work-family divide
in which workers face mounting conflicts between home and the
workplace. Second, a growing bifurcation of the labor force has
contributed to a growing occupational divide, in which
some jobs demand very long days and others do not. Third, as workers
are increasingly channeled into jobs with either very high or
relatively low time demands, we have also found a growing aspiration
divide, in which workers experience a gap between their actual
and their preferred working time. Of course, the parenting
divide also continues to place parents in a disadvantaged
and precarious position, separating them from and even pitting
them against childless workers. And last, but certainly not least,
the persistence of unequal opportunities— for balancing
parenting and paid work and for finding promising and flexible
jobs— underscores a persisting gender divide, which
leaves women and men facing different options and dilemmas. (Italics
in original.)
Certainly, many of the
more troubling aspects of the contemporary motherhood problem—
such as why its effects penalize mothers differently depending on
their location in the socioeconomic hierarchy— fit neatly
into Jacobs and Gerson’s time divide model. Mothers in high-performance
professions are presented with the untenable alternative of working
50-plus hours a week or sacrificing earnings potential and occupational
status for more family-friendly schedules. When fathers are required
to put in excessively long work weeks, married mothers may decide
to trade in the crushing “second shift” of domestic
chores for full-time unpaid caregiving— and according to Ann
Crittenden in The Price of Motherhood, moms who go this
route stand to forfeit as much as a million dollars in potential
earnings and benefits.
Mothers in every occupational
tier are forced to negotiate a devil’s dilemma of options—
which will their family be more able to tolerate: a time squeeze,
or a money squeeze? (Although if they happen to be single mothers,
their families will quite often be squeezed for both, no matter
how hard they try to strike a balance.) But Jacobs and Gerson emphasize that the time divide is more than a mothers’ issue:
The difficulties of
integrating family and work are not confined to women and are
not simply a ‘woman’s problem.’ The conflicts
have structural roots, and they emerge from the institutional
conflicts that confront any worker who must blend family responsibilities
and the demands of a rigid and encroaching job. If more women
experience these conflicts, or if women experience them more intensely,
that is because women are more likely to face these difficult
circumstances.
The first five chapters
of The Time Divide are data geek’s dream, with a
juicy assortment of graphs and tables tracking historic trends in
American’s working time and detailing their experience of
overwork. Some of the authors' findings confirm well-known phenomena, such as that
women with children tend to work fewer hours than their childless
peers, while married men’s working hours actually increase
slightly when they become fathers. The study also reveals that only
a small fraction of parents in dual-earner households have a combined
working time of at least 100 hours a week, although the number of
parenting couples who work extremely long hours rose from 8 percent
in 1970 to 12 percent in 2000. Yet in the final analysis, the authors
agree that whatever is fueling the rise in working time, “it
is not concentrated among parents. The move toward more work involvement,
whether among men or women, thus does not appear to reflect a desire
among parents to escape the contemporary difficulties of child rearing.”
Jacobs and Gerson constantly reiterate that individual preferences
for longer or shorter work hours have very little to do with the
evolution of the time divide: “We cannot assume that workers’
choices are merely a reflection of their own personal preferences.
In a myriad of ways, the world of work is organized and structured
by forces far beyond any worker’s control.”
Shrinking
the time divide
The final section of
the book, which concentrates on policy solutions, should be of special
interest to those seeking social and economic justice for mothers.
Chapter 6— which is co-authored with Janet C. Gornick—
offers an appraisal of American working time in a cross-national
perspective. In particular, the authors found that women’s
working patterns varied across all the countries they studied, and
that “important differences remain between employed women
and their male counterparts:”
Across all advanced,
postindustrial societies, women continue to face substantial differentials
in labor participation rates, working hours and income that grow
even larger among parents. These inequalities, which are to some
extent rooted in women’s disproportionate responsibilities
for caregiving and family work, have enduring consequences that
contribute to longer-term inequalities in earnings and reinforce
patterns of gender segregation in jobs and occupations.
Clearly, cultural factors
have as least as much influence as policy provisions when it comes
to eliminating barriers to women’s equality in the workplace.
For example, the authors mention that in countries with a high proportion
of part-time women workers, many women are pushed into part-time
work regardless of their preference for full-time employment. Activist
mothers in search of policy reform should take note that new regulations
and benefits to help mothers integrate paid work and caregiving
will not automatically assure gender equality. “A cross-national
perspective enriches our understanding of the situation of American
workers and also provides some lessons about the possibilities for
achieving greater work-family integration as well as more gender
equality,” the authors of The Time Divide write.
“In the search for a model country, however, these twin goals
seem elusive; indeed, they also seem to be in conflict.”
Even if the present political
climate in the U.S. was amenable to enacting legislation to support
working families— which it most emphatically is not—
throwing policy solutions at the motherhood problem will not take
us very far until we manage to extract caregiving from its marginal
status as “women’s work” and reposition it as
a central social concern. In particular, European examples suggest
that part-time parity may not be the panacea some supporters of
the emerging mothers’ movement imagine it to be. Unless there
is a profound cultural shift within and outside of our workplaces—
and equal numbers of men avail themselves of the opportunity to
work part-time with proportionate pay and benefits— protections
for part-time work may simply create another substandard employment
track for women who mother.
With that in mind, Jacobs
and Gerson highlight a selection of policy recommendations that
augment the typical short list of solutions proposed by some work-life
researchers and mothers’ advocates (i.e., paid parental and
sick leave, affordable, quality child care, and workplace flexibility
for all workers; part time parity; caps on mandatory overtime; universal
health care and a decent minimum wage). Specifically, the authors
call for a 35 hour workweek, revisions to the Fair Labor Standards
Act to make professionals and other mid- and upper-level workers
eligible for overtime pay, and mandating paid benefits for all workers
in proportion to their hours of work. This array of reforms, the
authors believe, would make it more costly for employers to either
overwork or underwork their employees— and would be less likely
to reinforce gender and class inequalities than work-enabling strategies
alone. While the authors concede that their proposed initiatives
may be a tough sell, they stress there is always room for optimism:
“While these proposals may seem out of reach and impractical
to those who assume the past must dictate the future, a historical
perspective suggests that what may seem impractical and impossible
today may be seen as indispensable and inevitable tomorrow.”
In their chapter on “Bridging
the Time Divide,” Jacobs and Gerson provide a valuable overview
of different perspectives on the time crisis and its potential remedies,
from the self-help approach to the proposition that the free market
can and will (eventually) deliver the best cure for the nation’s
overwork epidemic. The authors also mount a compelling defense of
their own argument that nothing short of a balanced combination
of protective legislation and work enabling policies, coupled with
family-friendly working time regulations, will do the trick. In
their final chapter, Jacobs and Gerson present a concise run-down
of the groups most likely to oppose legislative action aimed at
narrowing the time divide. They suggest the greatest resistance
will come from economic conservatives— who are poised to fight
stronger labor regulations and policy agendas requiring a redistribution
of “public” resources to support “private”
needs— as well as cultural conservatives (who tend to view
gender equity and diverse family forms as socially dangerous and/or morally
offensive) and militant proponents of the child-free movement, who
have been hostile to any corrective measures that smack of special
treatment for “breeders.”
Shrinking the time divide
may be an uphill battle, but it’s obvious from Jacobs and
Gerson’s research that a significant number of workers are
reaching the limits of their ability to sustain a positive balance
between the practical assets and irreducible needs in the family
resource pool. Until the U.S. learns to treat the time problem— in
all its economic and cultural complexity— as a serious social
issue rather than a private inconvenience, more and more families
will hit the point where the center cannot hold. If we hope to continue
our progress toward a more humane and just society, we need to take
steps to ensure that mothers and fathers— and all American
workers— have time on their side.
mmo : April
2002
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