Parents at your workplace aren’t getting extra ‘time off’ – so stop calling it that

Given the unexpected interruptions to the working day which children can present – school holidays, a sudden illness, childcare falling through – the fact that parents can take up to four weeks of unpaid leave per child per year can be very handy. But how does that work in reality? It leaves that parent’s colleagues to pick up the slack, which can become a source of resentment. And more than that, the existence of that unpaid leave can mean that parents – especially mothers – end up seeing their career progression stall as they spend more time away from work. So, have working parents got it harder than ever? Mothers Emily Watkins and Charlie Bond, and work academic Adam Webster, give their perspectives. If life began and ended at the office, then sure, there’d be no question that parents get “too much” time off compared to their child-free colleagues. What other non-fireable reason is there to down tools in the middle of the working day and bolt? And who could deny the unfairness for those left holding the work-baby while a team member attends to their real one? Deadlines and workloads don’t change just because one person has gone home – ergo, your colleague Stacey’s snotty son means more for you to do, no two ways about it. It’s not fair. But ultimately, it’s not fair on Stacey either – and she’s the one bearing the real cost. After all, it’s easy to see how that extra work for her teammates might lead to Stacey being resented; how an accumulation of absences could result in her being passed over for promotion or pay rises; why her name might come up as someone who doesn’t seem to be “giving her all” when management looks to make redundancies; why Stacey herself might decide that juggling office life with motherhood just isn’t worth the strain, and cut down her hours, or stop work altogether. Certainly, that’s all much more likely to happen to Stacey than her (equally imaginary) husband Stan. In the UK, working mothers earn on average £302 less per week than working fathers, and a woman’s earning power falls up to 42 per cent in the five years after her first child. Only 13 per cent of women receive a promotion in that period, compared to 26 per cent of new dads, whose post-baby careers tend to experience an upward trajectory – the so-called “fatherhood premium” versus the “motherhood penalty”. Are you frothing at the mouth too? ‘I am only 10 months into this parenting malarkey, but one thing is clear: children require more time and attention than a single individual could ever provide’ (Photo: Emily Watkins) Truth is, the 40-hour working week simply wasn’t built to absorb its employees dashing to pick up a sick child from nursery, or missing a meeting to deliver a forgotten packed lunch. Until about 50 years ago, that was fine, because that’s what wives were for. Yet even though those women are now in the workplace, it’s still overwhelmingly they who clear their diaries when children inevitably fox the best laid plans (after-school club, carpools, child minders). Last in, first out, eh? I am only 10 months into this parenting malarkey, but my short experience has made one thing abundantly clear. Namely: children require more time and attention than a single individual could ever provide, let alone one in full-time employment. It takes a village, as they say, but most of us don’t have one, so we pretend it doesn’t. That wilful ignorance results in a work culture that screws everyone, whether they’ve got kids or not. Before I had a baby, I rolled my eyes when people warned me about the impact of children on a career. Now on the other side of that chasm, having had my world exploded by love and my monthly earnings obliterated by the glorious, gruelling time-suck of childcare, I’m the one harping on about it (sorry). It’s just not possible to meet all the demands parenting makes of us while nonetheless being available during working hours – better we face that fact than contort and torture ourselves. Our insistence that such a feat is not just doable but normal has done untold damage to countless shellshocked new mothers, while letting capitalism off the hook. Meanwhile, our existing work culture is too mired in its patriarchal origins for the impact of any well-meaning mitigation policies (shared parental leave, flexible working hours) to be much more than superficial, though of course they are better than nothing. If we could make no-questions-asked hybrid working a basic right, or put more money into subsidising nurseries and after-school clubs, that might help parents. As for their colleagues, we could try the system that lets French workers reclaim overtime hours via days off, so at least co-workers feel compensated for picking up extra tasks. And beyond the office, let’s make a point of having dads as a child’s primary contact — perhaps if they got a phone call from nursery about their baby having a temperature rather that just hearing about it at home later, they’d be inclined to go and get them. Frankly, the idea that leaving work to look after children is “time off” is part of the problem. You might resent it, but I promise your colleague is putting in a whole other kind of shift dealing with their toddler’s ear infection. Until we understand that, women will keep toppling off career ladders just as their male partners hit their strides, lolloping through pay rises and promotions and asking what all the fuss is about. But here as elsewhere, awareness is half the battle. If you find yourself feeling indignant about taking on extra responsibility in the wake of a colleague’s childcare palaver this summer, fair enough. Just rest assured that the person dashing home is grappling with far greater consequences; so keep the righteous huffing to a minimum, OK? Perspectives