In the decade since my book The Overworked American was published, an annual Labor Day ritual has emerged: bemoaning the national workload. The story has a thousand angles. The US surpasses workaholic Japan in average hours. Dot.com-ers go 24/7. The family dinner disappears. The working poor are holding three and four jobs, just to make ends meet. Neither the post-September 11 re-commitment to family and community nor the presence of a committed leisure enthusiast in the White House seem to have had an impact. Worker overload has felt like an intransigent problem. But this year might be different. More free time might just be the silver lining in the clouds of a depressed economy, corporate scandals and the hangover from the 1990s consumer binge.
The story of the overworked American has legs largely because working hours have risen for three decades. According to estimates from the Economic Policy Institute, between 1973 and 1998 average annual hours increased from 1720 to 1898, a jump of 178 hours. Recognition of the problem became widespread, as armies of work-family consultants counseled corporations on how to create “balance.” Most large companies put flexible work options on the books. The academic literature mushroomed. But these changes hardly made a dent.
Why has overwork been so persistent? One reason is that it is generally more profitable for firms to employ a small workforce for long hours. The benefits costs are lower, employers can be more selective about whom they hire, and hours are a simple (if inaccurate) proxy for commitment. Employees who dislike the long hours have typically had to change jobs, or even occupations, to gain free time.
During the 1990s, robust consumer demand intensified these incentives. The boom also created unprecedented opportunity for individuals, which spurred work effort. While workers made significant gains in employment and income, they paid with their time. Indeed, by the end of the decade, it had begun to feel like Industrial Revolution redux, with a massive outpouring of work effort. Overtime hours, already at record highs, rose further. Married couples with children logged an additional 151 hours in a single decade. And despite their strengthening labor market position, employees failed to gain legal rights to vacation time, in sharp contrast to Europeans, many of whom enjoy more than a month of paid vacation. While my findings caused a firestorm of controversy when they appeared, by the mid-1990s even the time-diary data wielded by my critics had begun to register increases in work time. The first Industrial Revolution paradox of labor saving technologies resulting in more, rather than less work, was repeating itself.
These developments created a “blowback” effect. Rising hours led to rising incomes, which in turn raised the consumer norms that households adhere to. Prosperity turned more necessities into luxuries, and raised aspirations—for consumer electronics, larger homes, travel, and luxury vehicles. But because the gains in income and wealth went disproportionately to upper-income households, most families could only realize higher spending norms by putting in additional hours and taking on debt. By 1997, the National Survey of the Changing Workforce found that nearly two-thirds of employees were on the job more than they wanted to be.
Much of this has changed during the last year. Many firms are facing stagnant or declining demand, lower earnings, and pressure to cut back on labor inputs. On the household side, there is new rationale for restraint in consumption. Personal bankruptcies are soaring again, trillions of dollars in wealth have vanished, and economic opportunity is harder to find. These developments make it an ideal moment to reduce hours broadly, rather than eliminate jobs.
We’ve heard a lot in the last year from national leaders about the need for sacrifice, community, and pulling together. Surely allocating work more equitably should be part of such an attitude. A pro-active policy response might turn these worthy sentiments into reality. Employees on reduced schedules could be authorized to collect partial unemployment insurance. And Congress could enact tax breaks for firms that enact work re-distribution.
Sound like pie in the sky? The financial scandals of recent months have created an opening for a more comprehensive questioning of corporate behavior. As long as we’re scrutinizing the relationship between companies and their shareholders and pensioners, how about looking at the inflexible work norms imposed on workers? In the last six months, a rapidly growing “Take Back Your Time” movement is gaining momentum, and is planning a national day of rest on October 24, 2002. This date is nine weeks before the end of the year, and symbolizes the additional nine weeks Americans work in comparison to their counterparts in Continental Western Europe.
In the end, even more than work schedules, incomes, and employment are at stake. These choices also affect the planetary environment. The US propensity to consume more, rather than work less, is central to why we are the unrivalled international leaders in resource depletion, carbon emissions, and environmental impact. By next Labor Day, I’m hoping the message will be: we’re slowing down, sharing the work, and sparing the planet.
Juliet Schor teaches at Boston College. A revised version of this article appeared in the New York Times.