Literature

Book Review: The Managed Heart

[16 minute read]

Content warning: reading this book left me in a low state of existential panic and unable to respond appropriately to other people’s emotions for about a week. You have been warned.

If you’ve followed my blog for any amount of time, you probably know that I’m a big fan of the sociologist and feminist scholar Professor Arlie Russell Hochschild. Previously I have reviewed her books “Strangers in Their Own Land” and “The Second Shift“. I’ve also published a practical guide to sharing housework, inspired by reading “The Second Shift”. Today I’m going to review The Managed Heart the book that first brought Professor Hochschild to mainstream attention.

But before I begin the review, I’d like to talk about words.

Words are handles to grasp concepts. These handles (like the concepts they evoke) are by necessity blurry and fuzzy. They change. Is Pluto a planet? It depends on what “planet” means to you. If you’re an academic astronomer, you might answer this differently than one of the kids who sent Neil deGrasse Tyson hate mail.

Language must necessarily grow and evolve. I’ve given up trying to police the meaning of literally (although you’ll have to take the Oxford Comma from my cold, dead hands). That said, I really wish that every subculture dominated by people under thirty took one fucking second to do a fucking lit review before they grab academic sounding words for their HuffPo think pieces or blog posts.

(I live in a glass house here. I am loosely associated with the Rationalist Community, a group of people who have based their whole philosophy on the literal arch-enemies of the rationalist philosophical tradition. “Empiricist Community” didn’t sound as smart or clever, so it lost out as a name despite the fact it was far more accurate.)

Technical words mean specific things and their definitions are policed so that academic disagreement (and more rarely, agreement) can happen at all. Academics need to have a clear(ish) view of what concept-handles they’re playing with and clear(ish) boundaries on those concepts, lest they spend all of their days arguing about definitions, like a Clinton caught in a lie. Currently we filter that sort of person out of the general academic discourse by letting them go study Hegel, but there’s always a risk of that spilling over, to disastrous effect.

Worse, when a technical word is stolen for general vocabulary it often comes to mean what people think it should mean, rather than what it originally meant. Those concepts, which were important enough that they needed names, are now left to float, handle-less. For example, “market failure” is at risk of coming to mean “weird consequences of markets”, not “markets that are trapped away from the Pareto-frontier, such that they have an opportunity to make someone/some metric better off without making anyone/anything else worse off that cannot be realized”. The technical definition is not evoked as well by the phrase “market failure” and so is at risk of being elided in popular discourse.

A subsequent consequence of this is that academic debate becomes meaningless, confusing, or incomprehensible to ordinary people (as their ability to police the language they use for discussions results in inevitable linguistic drift when those same terms are misused elsewhere). Non-academics assume that academics are using the colloquial term, when in fact they’re saying something else. Switching terms like this often has serious consequences for the veracity of arguments!

When an economist says “a minimum wage can lead to market failures”, many people think the economist is saying “it would be better if people could be payed less”, where they might actually be saying “when a minimum wage exists, a company may fail to hire a low productivity worker (say a high school graduate, or someone who doesn’t speak the dominant language very well) while forcing another worker to work overtime; if no minimum wage existed, the company could hire that worker, making both the hired worker and the existing employee (now freed from overtime) better off, while leaving the company no worse off”.

All this is to say that “emotional labour” is a key concept from The Managed Heart. It was termed in this book. And as near as I can tell, it has literally never been used properly in a blog post or think piece.

So before I talk about what emotional labour (in the academic sense) is, I’d like to give several examples of what it isn’t.

Emotional labour isn’t the mental load that women have to carry when managing the chores and children of a household. Infuriatingly, this subject was covered by Professor Hochschild in another book. It has a whole chapter devoted to it! Properly termed, it would be “responsibility for managing the second shift” or something like that.

Emotional labour isn’t women helping men process and figure out their feelings without compensation. Under the framework introduced in The Managed Heart, I’d suggest that it could be called “feeling rules promoting asymmetric empathizing”, which I will admit is much less catchy.

Emotional labour isn’t even the work women do to manage their feelings in a relationship so that men feel supported and validated. That comes up in The Managed Heart and is one subset of “emotion work”.

I am not claiming that any of these other contenders for the term “emotional labour” do not exist, are not real problems, or do not deserve academic study of their own. I believe that they do exist, are real problems, and deserve study (much of which has been done by Professor Hochschild). But I am also going to ignore them, pretend they don’t exist, and talk only about emotional labour as it was defined by Professor Hochschild: “the commercialization of our capacity to influence our own feelings”.

Unpacking that seemingly simple definition will provide fodder for most of my review.

First, what are feelings?

Professor Hochschild carefully charts the development of theories of emotion. There’s Darwin’s physical theory of emotion, that holds that emotions are the evolutionary vestiges of certain acts. Teeth barred in a rictus of anger is, to Darwin, the evolutionary vestige of actually biting. Anger emerges as the remnant of what would have been aggressive action and shows up in situations where our ancestors might have been aggressive.

Freud had some nonsense about dammed up libido (I have a policy of ignoring everything Freud said that involves the words “libido”, “oedipal”, and “fixation”, and I’m not going to break it just for this review). William James held that emotions were signifiers of physical change; to James, the emotion of anger was merely what we feel when our body prepares to fight and is solely a consequence of underlying physiological processes.

Later theorists, like Gerth and Mills, situated emotions in a social context. They talked about how culture might influence emotions and how inchoate emotions might be made understandable when others interpreted them for us. For example, if a bride cries when left at the altar on her wedding day, her mother’s explanation “you must be furious” gives name and focus to her roiling emotions. The bride may come to believe that she is crying because she is angry, and that the roil of emotions in her belly is anger. Had her mother instead suggested that she was feeling “sorrow”, then perhaps that would have been the name she chose.

Professor Hochschild builds on these definitions (and many others) to get one she’s satisfied with. To her, emotion is a sense, like proprioception or touch. It allows us to sense how we relate to others actions or to developments. Emotion in a Hochschildian framework doesn’t just lead to action (e.g. I was angry so I attacked him), it also leads to cognition (e.g. I paused to wonder why I was so sad).

Professor Hochschild holds emotion up as one of the most important senses because it acts as a signal function. There is the tautological sense in which emotion lets us know how we feel about something, but there is also the sense in which it warns us. We talk about a twinge of jealousy or a sinking dread. These emotions help us realize that all is not right.

Emotions can be consonant with a situation (e.g. I feel so happy on my wedding day), or dissonant (e.g. I should be happy at my wedding, but I’m really just scared). Dissonant emotions are most often the ones we seek to change, but as emotion becomes commercialized, we are increasingly asked to change our consonant emotions as well.

What do we do when we can’t change our emotions? And how do we effect a change?

Surface acting is one way we can deal (in a socially acceptable manner) with “feeling the wrong thing”. In surface acting, we change our countenance or face, but make no attempt to change how we feel. We might grin through pain, wear a fixed smile, or hide that we want to cry. We may not fool anyone else and we certainly don’t fool ourselves, but sometimes surface acting allows us to pay our emotional dues to those around us.

Surface acting can feel exhausting; you can’t rest or relax while you are presenting a fake face to the world. Therefore, it is often beneficial for us to be able to engage in deep acting.

Deep acting is the sincere attempt to engender an emotion that you are currently not feeling. There are two ways that you can attempt deep acting. In the first, you can try and chivy and talk yourself into feeling what you desire. When someone says they are trying to fall in love, or conversely trying not to fall too hard, they are engaging in this first form of deep acting.

The second form of deep acting shares much with method acting. Method acting encourages the actor to bring in emotions from other parts of their life and use them to animate the emotions of their character. In deep acting, you push on your emotions by using memories of other emotional states. Deep acting might look like “I was unhappy on the day of my wedding, so I brought up memories of things I like about my partner until I was smiling“.

Society imposes on us many feelings rules, which we interact with by doing the emotion work of deep acting or the feigning surface acting. Here’s a simple feelings rule: it is considered impolite to feel anything other than happiness for a friend’s promotion. If you instead feel jealous, there will be a strong societal expectation that you show none of it. Instead, you must transmute the jealousy into joy via deep acting, or hide it via surface acting.

You might think that feeling rules only apply when you aren’t interacting with the people you’re closest with. Professor Hochschild disagrees. She believes that feelings rules bind us especially tightly when we are with our closest friends or our romantic partners. She talks briefly here (and at depth in “The Second Shift”) about the economy of gratitude that exists in a relationship and how it requires constant emotion work to maintain. You expect your partner to be excited on your behalf when you get a promotion or self-flagellating and apologetic if they cheat. Closeness acts like a filter; only people who instinctively manage their emotions in a way that is pleasing to you (or, in the case of partners who try and “win someone over”, put in a lot of effort) end up close to you, so the reality of the emotion work underlying close relationships is often obscured. Part of Professor Hochschild’s purpose in studying emotion work at work was to pull back this curtain and view emotion work that wasn’t so unconscious and unthinking.

There certainly can be a gendered dynamic to emotion work. Professor Hochschild believes that men are trained to expect a certain amount of emotion work from women: fluffing of the ego, soothing of the temper, etc. She also believes that emotion work is unevenly spread because women are better trained in it and men tend to be better off. Within the context of a heterosexual relationship, this often manifests in the unconscious deal of a man providing physical security through his more highly paid work, in exchange for a woman’s emotional labour and her labour around the house (this idea is more thoroughly dissected in “The Second Shift”).

The primary marketplace and arena of emotion work is “emotional bowing”. Emotional bowing encompasses two types of exchanges, improvisational and straight. In a straight exchange, you are following the rules and exchange rates of society. When you repay advice from a senior colleague with sincere gratitude, you are engaging in a straight exchange.

When the gratitude is feigned, obviously false, or the advice given grudgingly, you are still trying to play out the straight exchange, but you are quibbling about the exchange rate. Similarly, when you brush aside gratitude and claim the advice you gave was “my pleasure”, you are making a rather different point about the exchange rate and showing kindnesses and graciousness – and perhaps making something clear about the emotional tone you expect at your workplace. Even kindness can become a demand for future emotion work.

Many disagreements, especially among close friends and lovers are caused by different notions of the exchange rate between actions. In these close relationships, emotion work is just one way that we can repay others, but it is often the one that breaks down in response to problems, when we suddenly realize the thing we “should” be feeling takes actual work to feel.

In an improvisational exchange, the feeling rules themselves are called into question, often using sarcasm or irony. A man may jokingly tell a crying male friend “remember, men never cry”. By ironically referencing the feeling rule (that men cannot show emotion), he gives his friend permission to violate it. This sort of exchange requires clear knowledge and understanding of how everyone involved interprets feelings rules, so is uncommon except in close relationships.

When the crying man rejects the toxic masculinity that causes men to disown their emotions, referencing the feeling rule might cheer him up, as he is reminded that even his sorrow is a radical act in line with his values. But if he instead embraces that conception of masculinity, referencing the feeling rule might add to his grief and make him feel a failure. Only his friends would know which is likely to occur, so only his friends would risk an improvisational exchange.

This particular part of the book brought on my existential crisis, as I found myself unable to respond to emotional displays with anything other than attempts to calculate what was given, expected, and owed. I do now wonder if this is a common experience, or if my response was somewhat atypical? In either case, a warning before I (potentially) inflicted this on anyone else seemed prudent.

Anyway, all of this background brings us to emotional labour, the true topic of this book. Emotional labour is when emotion work is removed from its normal place in the home and in broader society, and starts to become part of someone’s economic responsibilities. Physical labour has long been commoditized and therefore made anonymous – that is to say, it does not matter which particular person manufactures your car, because any other labourer could have done it approximately as well. While emotional labour has long existed, it is only recently (with a decline in manufacturing jobs and increase in service jobs) that it has become commoditized and therefore gone mainstream.

Professor Hochschild takes a somewhat Marxist approach to the dangers of emotional labour. In the same way that Marx worried about labourers being alienated from the physical products of their work, Professor Hochschild worries about the effects of labourers being alienated from the emotional products of their work.

Like all of Professor Hochschild’s books, The Managed Heart is in some sense an ethnography. The subjects of this book are bill collectors (who are required to do the emotional labour of avoiding sympathy or pity) and flight attendants (who must do the emotional labour of providing a cheery, relaxed façade). In both of these cases, these required emotions (and the feeling rules that produce them) might be variously consonant and dissonant with what the worker may wish to feel.

Earlier, I said that workers are being increasingly asked to avoid consonant feelings. Take as an example the bill collector, moved by pity or charity to seek to find a repayment schedule that works for their client or a flight attendant furious at a customer who is repeatedly belittling them. In both of these cases, emotions are correctly functioning (both as a signal function, and in accordance with societal feelings rules), but economic realities demand that the worker feel something else. Corporate requirements impose a new set of feelings rules, which may clash with extant ones, potentially grinding up workers in the process.

Acting in response to these alien feeling rules can be exhausting. For flight attendants, Professor Hochschild identified three stances they can take towards their work, each with its own risks:

In the first, the worker identifies too wholeheartedly with the job, and therefore risks burnout. In the second, the worker clearly distinguishes her- self from the job and is less likely to suffer burnout; but she may blame herself for making this very distinction and denigrate herself as ‘Just an actor, not sincere.” In the third, the worker distinguishes herself from her act, does not blame herself for this, and sees the job as positively requiring the capacity to act; for this worker there is some risk of estrangement from acting altogether, and some cynicism about it– “We’re just illusion makers.”

No job is entirely without risks (both physical and psychological), yet work must get done. I would have like to see Professor Hochschild better engage with this fact. Her potential solution (to give workers more control over the emotional labour they are required to do) is not as free of costs as she seems to think it is. For whenever it is not universal, all those companies that refuse to give control of emotional labour over to their employees may find themselves at a steep advantage. The threat of this (if emotional labour is indeed a competitive advantage) might be enough to keep whole industries scared of allowing any worker control, absent a mechanism for perfect coordination.

(It seems like the best way to free people from emotional labour would be to prove that it is not important. But we are social animals and so I doubt such a proof is forthcoming. Or possible at all.)

Still, there is often something deeply troubling about how emotional labour is framed. Professor Hochschild gives the example of a seminar about “reducing stress and making work more pleasant” at the flight attendant recurrent training centre. Belying the messaging, it seemed like the real purpose of the seminar was to convince the flight attendants to sublimate any anger they might, in the future, feel at passengers into emotions less risky for the company. A pleasant working environment was secondary to the corporate goals.

In the model of emotion-as-signal-function, anger is important. Indeed, it seems that negative emotions (specifically the negative affect/fear cluster) are particularly important to living a safe life. There seems to be something deeply wrong and dangerous to workers in telling them that all anger in their professional life is their own problem, to be appropriately handled, rather than occasionally indicative of a customer who is seriously overstepping lines.

Regardless of the right or wrong of it, the flight attendants interviewed in the book had to manage their anger and they talked about several strategies they had developed to do so (some of which were taught to them at recurrent training). They might put themselves in the angry customer’s shoes and try and imagine that person as suffering from some life events that explained and excused their behaviour. Or they might remind themselves that they only had to deal with the customer for a little while, allowing them drive out their anger and replace it with relief. Asking other co-workers for emotional support was officially discouraged, because it might lead to anger spreading. Flight attendants who could help their colleagues feel the officially sanctioned emotions (e.g. by diffusing anger with light-hearted joking) were valued members of teams.

Professor Hochschild suggests that we are trained for emotional labour from a young age. Or rather, that some children are. She suggests that working-class children are prepared to have their actions governed by rules, while middle-class children are prepared to have their feelings governed by rules. Note that this isn’t necessarily explicit. I recall receiving no specific training on emotion management, but I know that I picked it up somewhere and that I’m somewhat disturbed by people who seem unable or unwilling to practice emotion management.

One way that emotion work is taught (or not) is by family dynamics. Professor Hochschild suggests that many working-class families use a positional family control system, while middle-class families use a personal control system. In a positional family, authority is derived from a certain mixture of age, gender, employment status, parenthood, etc. Those with authority make decisions within their spheres of authority and the other members of the family must act in accordance with these decisions, although they don’t have to like it.

In a personal control system, control is achieved via appeals to the emotions of a child. Because all decisions of the child are framed as a choice (but with an obvious correct answer), this can lead to a maddening chain of explanations. Whenever the child states their preference, the parent will explain the decision in more detail and explain why the child should feel differently, such that they’ll have the “correct” preference. I can’t remember if this was explicitly mentioned, but it seems to me that this would also serve the purpose of inculcating in the child a strong understand of normative feeling rules.

There is also a relationship between these control systems and discipline. Professor Hochschild cites research that middle-class parents are more likely to sanction intent, while working-class parents are more likely to sanction actions. The working-class parent sanctions the child because of the results of a temper-tantrum. The middle-class parent sanctions the child because they lost their temper.

Professor Hochschild suggests that the sum of this is three messages sent to a (middle-class) child:

  • Feelings in others, particularly their superiors, are important and worth trying to understand.
  • Their own feelings are important and a valid reason for making decisions.
  • Feelings are meant to be managed, controlled, and yoked to rules.

It’s clear that because of this education, feelings rules are a gender and class issue. First, the feelings rules learned in childhood act as a middle- and upper-class shibboleth, making it clear who was raised outside of those classes. Working-class members looking for upwards mobility will have to do catch-up work that is entirely invisible – except in lapses – to those they are seeking to blend in with.

Second, in a world in which the higher ranks of government and corporations are biased towards men, women are given a particular incentive to be sensitive towards the feelings of men, while men have no corresponding requirement to be sensitive towards the feelings of women. Combine this with a toxic masculinity that leaves men little room to acknowledge or talk about feelings and you’re left with a situation where many men will seriously lack the capacity to understand – or even the knowledge that they should be trying to understand – the feelings of women in their lives.

Professor Hochschild frames the intersection of class and feeling rules somewhat more bluntly than I have:

More precisely, the class messages that parents pass on to their children may be roughly as follows. Middle class: “Your feelings count because you are (or will be) considered important by others:’ Lower class: “Your feelings don’t count because you aren’t (or won’t be) considered important by others:’

Note that this was written in the 80s and Professor Hochschild did suggest that orientation towards controlling emotions might soon (after the time of publication) cut across class lines due to the advent of automation. To an extent I think this has been borne out, but I feel like there is also an aesthetic element here. Class determines what emotions are acceptable to show (although of course this relationship is complicated and fickle, much like fashion), which also determines what people are raised to be able to do.

For a book that was supposed to focus on emotional labour, remarkably little of this book concerned actual interviews with labourers. The case studies here were much less in depth than in “The Second Shift” or “Strangers in Their Own Land”. This necessarily made the book harder to read and more academic and dry in tone. Ethnography often gives me the thrill of meeting (vicariously) interesting people (and of discovering that people I haven’t given much thought to are shockingly interesting!), but I found that distinctly lacking in this book.

(It’s much more theoretical than practical and I have to say that I prefer Professor Hochschild’s more practical books.)

That’s not to say the book wasn’t interesting or thought provoking. On the contrary, I often found thinking about it overwhelming. It introduced me to powerful models in areas of my life where I’d previously done little modelling.

If you want to better understand emotion, I recommend this book. If you want to read an entertaining ethnography, or see in depth case studies of how emotional management ties in to work, I’m less certain that you should. If you want an introduction to Professor Hochschild’s work, I also recommend skipping this one until you’ve read “The Second Shift”; that book is much more focused and somewhat better written.

Really, I think that my view of The Managed Heart illustrates a common problem, known to anyone who goes back and reads the earlier (and less polished) work of a beloved author. People grow, change, and develop. I can see some of the things I loved about Professor Hochschild’s later work here, but many other parts were missing.

Luckily Professor Hochschild has written several other books and they undoubtedly have more of what I like most about her. My ambivalence for the style (although not the contents) of this book have not at all dulled my resolution to read more of her work. Expect to see more reviews of Professor Hochschild’s books here in the future.

Advice, Model

A Practical Guide to Splitting The Housework

[15-minute read]

Note: This blog post is about housework and chores. If disability or mental illness makes chores difficult for you to do and having someone breezily describe it as “easy” will be bad for you, I recommend skipping it. This meant to help people who are able split chores with a partner – but historically haven’t – begin to do so. It isn’t meant to be a cudgel with which to beat people who have difficulty with chores due to ability status. If this describes you, you are not lazy or broken and your difficulties are real and valid.

So, you’ve seen the comic by Emma, or read The Second Shift (which also happens to be my favourite term for the chores and childcare that happens after or before work), or maybe someone has linked you here with a pointed note. In any case, I’m going to assume you’re reading this because you’ve realized that you don’t help your partner with much around the house, don’t share much of the management of household chores with your partner, or aren’t very good at household chores and want to get better.

This is what you’re trying to avoid. Image Copyright: Emmaclit [SOURCE], used here with the permission of the artist.
There are three main things you need to work on if you want to be able to split both the act of doing chores and the mental load of keeping track of them with your partner [1]. These are: general skills, noticing things, and keeping track of what needs to happen. It’s difficult to work on any of these in isolation. Getting better at chores will help you feel empowered to notice when they need to be done or keep track of the schedule of doing them. Doing chores whenever you notice they need to be done will give you the practice you need to get better at them.

I think it would be a confusing guide if I laid it all out as holistically as you’ll be working on everything. In the interest of making this digestible, I’ve given each of the key areas their own subsection, with an additional final section the talks about dealing with some of the issues that may arise as you and your partner negotiate and re-negotiate the second shift.

General Skills

If you honestly don’t have any housework skills at all (either because you lacked an adult to model them for you, or adults refused to model them for you because of your gender, or any other reason) you’re going to need to start by building them up. It may seem like a good idea to ask your partner for help with this task.

It might not be. If your partner is frustrated with you because they feel you aren’t pulling your weight around the house, asking them to teach you will only increase the short-term stress on them. You’ll probably expect them to respond really positively to your change of heart, but you shouldn’t be surprised if they’re instead grumbly. Teaching someone how to do something is work. Teaching you chores would mean that for a while, all chores will take them longer.

It’s possible that your expectation that your partner be thrilled that you’re helping out will clash with any annoyance they have at doing chores more slowly in order to teach you and leave both of you feeling out of sorts. You’ll be hurt that your partner isn’t appreciating your “gift” [2], while your partner might feel like it’s taken you long too long to even offer. It’s also possible that seeing you learn might convince your partner that you can’t do chores correctly, which will make them reluctant to delegate chores to you and ruin your whole enterprise before it really begins.

If it turns out your partner is a bad choice, cadge lessons from your closest friends. They don’t have to live with you and they aren’t starting from a place of frustration. For many friends, it’s definitely worth a few pointers to have someone else do the grunt-work of their chores for them. And that’s exactly the deal I suggest you make.

That said, if your relationship with your partner is one where you can talk honestly and openly (and if it isn’t, um, what are you doing?) you can cut out the guessing and just ask them what they’d prefer. Talking with your partner has a further advantage: you can ask them what chores they’d most like you to learn. I have some samples here, but if these are the chores your partner minds least (while I know at least one person who hates each of these, they also just happen to be the chores I find most tolerable), you may want to substitute them for chores your partner especially hates (like fucking sweeping, the objectively worst chore).

Cooking

Think about the type of food you (and your friends or your partner) like to eat, then go looking online for recipes that match. I’m very partial to the President’s Choice recipes website, as well as the blog Cookie and Kate, but Google is your friend here. Once you have a recipe in mind, contact your chosen teacher and ask if you can buy the ingredients [3] and make it for them. Make it clear that the meal will only happen if they teach you things like basic knife skills and how to boil water.

Repeat this process with several different friends until you can make 2-3 recipes unaided. Ideally these shouldn’t have much overlap in technique (e.g. one soup, one stir fry with rice, and one pasta dish). Once you have the basics under your belt, you should be able to pick the rest up as you go along, assuming you end up doing at least some of the cooking in your household.

Doing Dishes

There are four good reasons to learn to do the dishes:

  1. It’s easy to learn and hard to get wrong
  2. It’s an excellent way to train your ability to notice things
  3. Doing the dishes doesn’t preclude talking with people
  4. Which means that you can get a reputation as helpful simply by doing the dishes whenever someone invites you over for a meal, without sacrificing any time hanging out with your friends

You can learn to do the dishes the same way as cooking. Just ask a friend if you can come over, hangout, and do their dishes. Basically no one will say no to this. It can also be combined with learning to make food if you want to save some time.

Whenever you do dishes at home, especially if it’s part of your set of chores, you should remember that the dishes aren’t truly done until you’ve put them away. Don’t leave them in the dishwasher or drying rack for days!

Laundry

Laundry is a chore that has to be scheduled (unless you like running out of underwear), so learning it will allow you to practice that aspect of the second shift. You can learn laundry the same as you would dishes or cooking, or maybe even at the same time if are picking recipes with lots of dead time.

There are two important things to note about laundry:

  1. If you don’t want everything to be horribly wrinkled, you need to take it out of the dryer as soon as it’s done.
  2. If you are doing laundry for someone else (and especially if that person wears feminine clothes), you must ask them “is there anything in this load that can’t go in the dryer or needs to go in on delicate?”. Many things (especially hosiery) can be ruined by the wrong dryer setting, or by going in the dryer at all.

Cleaning the washroom

I’ve found that people give me an inordinate amount of credit (relative to the work involved) whenever I clean a washroom. I think this is because (oddly) most people hate cleaning the washroom. These people are mistaken. In all households where the washroom has been cleaned in the last year or so, this is one of the least gross rooms to clean.

(That said, this is one chore I wouldn’t recommend learning at the same time as you cook!)

People are very cavalier about food. Food spills rarely get cleaned up properly, leading to stickiness or mold in the kitchen. Kitchen sinks are often a disaster of old food, soggy vegetables, and clogged drains. I find it impossible to clean a kitchen without retching at least once from some food that’s gone off.

In all likelihood, this smells worse than the 3rd Circle of Hell. Image Credit: Steven Depolo on Flickr

Bathrooms, on the other hand, rarely smell all that bad (and when they do, it’s more of a faint lingering odour, as opposed to the concentrated wretchedness you might find at the back of the fridge). People are incredibly embarrassed by any spills they cause in the bathroom and try to completely clean them up. If you wear gloves and wash your hands regularly, you should rarely be grossed out cleaning the bathroom (with the exception of the shower drain, which becomes a yawning abyss as soon as anyone in the house has hair past shoulder length).

Pictured: Actually just dust; one good wipe and this will be squeaky clean. Image credit: Bart Everson on Flickr

Most people (especially people in their twenties) don’t realize all this and treat cleaning the bathroom as only marginally less heroic than cleaning up nuclear waste.

Take advantage of this fact and offer to clean your friend’s washroom if they show how to do it. You really only need to do this once or twice to get the hang of it. Then you’ll be all set to take over what’s probably your partner’s least favourite chore.

Once you’ve learned some things

You can show off your skills to your partner. If you started learning before your inability to do chores became a problem in the relationship, you were probably having your partner teach you, in which case you can skip this step. If you instead learned from friends, you need to make your partner aware that you can now do things around the home.

Ideally, you would clean a room or make a dinner and then have your partner make non-judgemental suggestions about how you could do it better. Be prepared to spot genuine conflicts of values; you might view things as clean after a quick wipe, when your partner considers them clean only after a thorough scrub. I suggest that you and your partner put some time into negotiating a combined standard if your preferences aren’t already congruent. Remember that if you haven’t been doing the chores much, you aren’t really negotiating from a position of strength. Also remember that diverging cleanliness preferences aren’t really a good reason to go back to doing nothing.

Within a month or so of starting your journey towards chores competence, you should be ready to take stuff off your partner’s plate. Note that the chores I’ve outlined above don’t represent half the housework for a typical couple (unless you do a significant amount of yard work or take over all of the cooking), so you’ll probably have to learn a few more things. Once you’ve built up goodwill from actually doing some chores, it should be fine to have your partner teach you how to do the remaining ones.

I actually recommend learning how to do every chore that gets regularly done. This allows you to do it if your partner is gone or sick (or if you ever break up). It also helps you discover which chores you don’t mind and which you despise (I’m looking at you, cleaning the kitchen). It’s probably best to split up the housework such that you and your partner spend a similar amount of time on the chores you don’t mind, in addition to trying to balance the overall amount of work.

Noticing Things

Being able to do some chores means you’ve graduated from Chores 101. In Chores 202, you should develop the ability to do chores without prompting. It’s one thing to clean the washroom when asked, or make dinner when your partner loudly declares “I’m hungry”. It’s quite another to say to your partner “hey, I think this is as messy as I ever want the bathroom to get, will it disrupt your routine if I clean it tonight?” or “hey dear, does cauliflower mac and cheese sound good for dinner at six?” and then follow through.

When you take ownership of a chore and follow through on it, your partner can begin to drop the chore from their mind. Instead of looking around the washroom every so often, thinking about when they need to tell you to clean it, they can enjoy their shits in peace; instead of reminding you to go grocery shopping as a subtle way of telling you it’s your night to cook, they can relax and assume you’ll cook something delicious.

To build up your ability to notice things, you should pick a handful of chores and internally declare them MY RESPONSIBILITY. For chores that are your responsibility, you are forbidden to think “somebody should do that”. Whenever this thought happens, replace it with “I should do that!”.

With dishes this is especially easy. Look at the sink whenever you’re in the kitchen. If you don’t have anything urgent to do and there are some dishes in the sink, immediately do them (this is especially useful while waiting for the microwave, coffee maker, or toaster). On nights when your partner is cooking, head into the kitchen midway through their meal prep and start doing any dishes they’re done with. If you time this right, almost all the dishes can be done by the time you start eating and you can keep your partner company to boot [4].

You should aim to never be asked about something that is your responsibility (outside of extenuating circumstances, like “finals week”).

It’s obviously unfair to expect one person to notice everything wrong with the house (especially if people in the house have different cleanliness preferences). Note that this applies to your partner just as much as it applies to you. Neither of you should have to notice everything! This probably requires you and your partner to talk about what wrong means to you and come to a clear consensus. You should judge the state of the house off of this consensus, not off of how it feels to you personally [5].

There’s one final step to noticing things. When your partner asks you to do something (like get out a specific dish from the dishwasher), notice what else could be done and assume that the ask was as expansive as possible. Don’t just get out a single dish. Empty the whole dishwasher. When asked to take the laundry out of the dryer, fold it and put it away too. When you do the bare minimum, you push all the rest of the work onto your partner.

Keeping Track of What Needs to Happen

This is the last thing you need to get good at if you really want to share the mental load of chores with your partner.

Almost all chores spawn meta-chores. Cooking provides a simple example; you can’t cook if you don’t pay the power bill, buy groceries, and keep your cooking surfaces relatively clean. Even less involved chores probably require the occasional shopping trip, while children spawn a truly staggering amount of secondary work (like doctor’s appointments, vaccinations, permission slips, pre-school applications, birthday party invitations to sort, and homework to look over).

You can’t truly have ownership of a chore without taking responsibility for the chores it spawns. If your partner has to ask you every week if they need to pick up more cleaning supplies at the store, you’ve done a poor job managing the meta-chores. Your partner can only really banish a chore from their head once you’ve shown a clear track record of managing the meta-chores too.

If your memory isn’t great, assistive technology can really help. Apparently virtual assistants are now good enough that saying “Okay Google, remind me to buy dryer sheets next time I’m at a store” actually works. If you don’t want to share everything you ever do with Google or Apple, a pen and paper or notes to yourself on a calendar can work just as well.

You don’t need to do everything here yourself. If your partner regularly shops or is on their way to the grocery store for something they need, it’s totally fine to ask them to grab something you need on the way. The thing you want to avoid is the sort of cascading failure (e.g. a lack of soap means that laundry isn’t done for two weeks) that promotes chores they thought would be safely done to the top of their attention.

Ultimately, responsibility for your chores means that you should be able to do it even if no one else comes and saves you. In the same way that you want to train yourself to replace “someone should do that” with “I should do that” for the physical act of the chore, you need to replace things like “someone should buy more soap” with “I need to make sure we get more soap”.

Problems Sharing the Second Shift

I got the idea to write this after a friend shared Emma’s comic on their Facebook wall. Seeing the sense of hopelessness or anxiety it gave people who hadn’t been raised to know how to do chores or recognize when they had to be done was very eye-opening for me. One common complaint among people unused to chores was that it would be very stressful for them to try and notice every time something wasn’t perfect in order to swoop in and fix it.

I think this is a very reasonable thing to worry about if you and your partner are incapable of talking about things like “what does good enough look like?” and “how can we split these up, so that neither of us has to constantly ensure absolutely everything is perfect?”. In mainstream society, there’s a tendency for couples not to talk about their preferences and instead believe that true love necessarily provides intuition into everything your partner could want.

This becomes a real disaster when everyone assumes that their own way of doing things is the only reasonable way people would want to do it. In this case, genuinely different standards end up being misinterpreted as incompetence or subtle resistance.

All this is to say: if you’re worried that you can’t do anything to your partner’s nebulous standards, the root cause of this problem might be that you have no clue what those standards are and don’t know how to talk about them, not that noticing things is inherently very stressful [6]. You should also make sure that you haven’t just ignored ten years of requests to do things to a certain standard, maybe because it was more convenient for you to ignore them?

I will say that if it feels impossible or very stressful to try and keep track of everything, this should be taken as evidence of how your partner might feel about it too. Foisting all that work onto them is a step of last resort that should only be undertaken after you’ve talked with them and made sure it isn’t just as costly for them to do all the management as it would be for you to do it.

Once you’ve overcome (or renegotiated) the stressful aspects of the second shift and taken on your share of it, it’s pretty natural to expect your partner to express a lot of gratitude. This may not necessarily happen or may not happen right away, especially if it’s taken you a very long time to start caring. “What took them so long?” is probably a more realistic response than “my hero!”.

If you feel underpraised, stop and consider how often you praise your partner for doing housework. If you already do, that’s awesome. Tell them that while this isn’t a quid pro quo, you’d be more motivated to do chores if they praised you too. If you don’t praise them, perhaps ye should give as ye expect to receive? Positive reinforcement probably will help you continue to do chores, but you and your partner may have to work through some lingering feelings before they’re quite willing to take that final step.

Footnotes:

[1] Or partners. Or roommates. Or family. Endlessly caveating for all potential relationships that can occur in shared spaces is inimical to good flow and I’m vain enough about my writing that I’m going to sacrifice some nuance in the name of readability. ^

[2] For more about how the “economy of gratitude” can intersect with chores, see pages 54, 147, and 308 of The Second Shift by Professor Arlie Russel Hochschild (eBook version).  ^

[3] Make sure to do the grocery shopping yourself, as grocery shopping is a skill all on its own. You haven’t fully appreciated just how taxing it can be until you’ve found yourself in the produce aisle, futilely scanning for an obscure vegetable and frantically Googling things like “can you use green onions instead of shallots?” or “what is the difference between scallions and shallots?”. (Learning to cook was full of onion related trauma for me) ^

[4] There is a big difference between your partner doing a chore while you relax and do other things and your partner doing a chore while you keep them company and help them with little things. If there are chores you are genuinely hopeless at that you still want to be a part of, you can help your partner out by making their life less boring and providing some company. Even people who can’t boil water without burning down the kitchen can fetch things from the fridge. ^

[5] It’s deeply unfair for people to be held to standards that they don’t know about. Having a clear conversation about chore expectations allows you and your partner to avoid the feeling that you’re being judged by capricious and mysterious standards. ^

[6] I am a bona fide expert at stressing out over little things and found a ten-minute conversation codifying the implicit assumptions my partner and I had around chores eliminated basically all of the stress I had. I now know that they find disorder much more stressful than lack of cleanliness and really appreciate me keeping things organized (I’m the opposite, so gave little thought to order), while they now know my esophageal problems make it very hard for me to eat food that is weirdly prepared (my partner is a very proficient cook with an iron gut, which sometimes leads to culinary experiments that are a bit beyond my ability to choke down; I stick to recipes).

Still, if this is very stressful for you even after a conversation, there is nothing wrong or broken about you! Be prepared to challenge your assumption that this will necessarily be stressful, but if your assumption is borne out, you should probably try something else. Maybe you can compensate for not managing the chores in other ways (perhaps by doing more of the actual work of chores)? I think splitting all aspects of chores evenly is a useful default, but each partnership needs to figure out for themselves what feels fair and achievable to them! ^

Literature

Book Review: The Second Shift

Fittingly enough, The Second Shift is the second book I’ve read by the famed sociologist Professor Arlie Russel Hochschild. It’s a book about the second working shift – the one that starts when people, especially parents, come home from work and find themselves confronted with a mound of chores.

I really liked this book. It’s one of the most interesting things I’ve read this year and I’ve regaled everyone who will listen with facts from it for the past few weeks. Now I’m taking that regaling online. I’m not going to do a full summary of it because I think a lot of its ideas have entered the cultural consciousness; it’s well known that women continue to do the majority of work at home and have less time for leisure than men and this popular comic about mental load summarizes that section of the book better than I ever could.

But even still, there’s lots of interesting anecdotes and figures to share.

(A quick note: This book focused on heterosexual couples because gay couples are much better at sharing the second shift. I’m going to use gendered language for partners that assumes heterosexual relationships throughout this post because this book talked about a problem of heterosexual relationships; specifically, it talked about a problem with how men act in heterosexual relationships.)

“Transitional” men are worse than traditional men

Professor Hochschild identifies three types of men. There are the traditional men, who believe in traditional gender roles and separate spheres for the sexes. These are the men who’d prefer to earn the money while their wives keep the house. Then there are the egalitarian men – the men who believe that men and women are equal and try (with varying amounts of success) to transfer this political principle to their personal relationships.

Then there are the transitional men. These men aren’t against women having careers, per se (like traditional men might be). Transitional man accept that women can be part of the workforce and often welcome the extra paycheque. Unfortunately, transitional men haven’t bought all the way into equality. They also believe that women should be in charge and do most of the work at home.

Transitional men were the worst sharers of chores. Seventy percent of egalitarian men shared the chores entirely. The rest did between 30% and 45% of them, an amount Professor Hochschild labelled “moderate” (none did less than 30% of the chores, labelled as “little”). Of traditional men, 22% shared entirely and 33% did little (with the balance doing a moderate amount). The transitionals? 3% shared, 10% did a moderate amount and a full 87% did little.

This seems to be because transitional men expect women to deal with a lack of time by cutting back at work. The transitional men profiled in the book tended to be emotionally supportive of the women in their lives who were caught between work and home, but most refused to support their partners by actually helping out more.

People talk about women wanting to “have it all”, with a career and motherhood. But if anyone should be accused of wanting to “have it all”, it’s these men. They wanted the extra spending money their wife brought in with her job, but weren’t prepared to support her in the chores at home. To these men, their wife being able to work was contingent on her first completing her “more important” duties in the home.

Working more can be a way to escape chores

Some couples try and have the same amount of leisure time, rather than do the same amount of chores. This allows them to balance things out if one partner works more. It also can set up bad incentives. Some of the men in this book used their long hours (and high salaries) as an excuse not to do chores at home.

When Prof. Hochschild looked at these men more closely, she discovered that they enjoyed their jobs much more than they enjoyed doing chores. It wasn’t that the jobs didn’t leave them drained – they certainly weren’t faking their need to flop down in front of the TV at the end of a day – but despite that, these men wouldn’t have chosen helping out with chores over being drained. They found work fulfilling, while chores were just a boring obligation.

The negative impacts of overtime work seem to pop up in a few studies. There’s no good reason (beyond signalling your dedication to your job) to work more than forty hours a week long-term. You simply can’t get anything more done. It’s better for your relationship (and your health!) to take some of the extra overtime you might do and spend it at home helping with chores.

Not everyone has the freedom to bring this up at work and not everyone enjoys their work. You might be stuck in a job you don’t like, a job that demands a lot of overtime to prove that you’re serious and this overtime might take a toll on you (like studies suggest it does). If you leaving that job isn’t feasible, you don’t like your job, and your partner works fewer hours or enjoys their job more, then it probably is fair for your partner to take on more of the housework. In all other cases, you probably shouldn’t use working longer hours as an excuse to do less of the housework, at least not if equality is important in your partnership.

This also applies to personal projects, even if they might increase your employability, bring in a bit of extra cash, or bring value to your community. If you’re an aspiring author and spend an hour writing each night, this shouldn’t entitle you to any lesser share of the chores. If you’re studying a subject you enjoy, you shouldn’t use night class as an excuse to shirk housework. And volunteering, while laudable, is an activity that you do. It shouldn’t entitle you to a pass on chores.

Family Myths

The most distressing tale (to me) in the whole book was the story of Nancy and Evan Holt. Nancy was an ardent feminist and egalitarian, while Evan was a transitional. Evan was happy that Nancy liked her job, but thought that the home should be primarily her responsibility. Nancy wanted Evan to share the second shift.

They clashed over this mismatch for years. Here’s what happened when Nancy tried to get Evan to share the cooking:

Nancy said the first week of the new plan went as follows. On Monday, she cooked. For Tuesday, Evan planned a meal that required shopping for a few ingredients, but on his way home he forgot to shop for them. He came home, saw nothing he could use in the refrigerator or in the cupboard, and suggested to Nancy that they go out for Chinese food. On Wednesday, Nancy cooked. On Thursday morning, Nancy reminded Evan, “Tonight it’s your turn.” That night Evan fixed hamburgers and french fries and Nancy was quick to praise him. On Friday, Nancy cooked. On Saturday, Evan forgot again.

As this pattern continued, Nancy’s reminders became sharper. The sharper they became, the more actively Evan forgot—perhaps anticipating even sharper reprimands if he resisted more directly. This cycle of passive refusal followed by disappointment and anger gradually tightened, and before long the struggle had spread to the task of doing the laundry.

Evan kept up his passive resistance for years and eventually Nancy cut back her hours at work in order to have more time for the second shift. But this was never framed as a capitulation. Instead, it coincided with the family myth that they were sharing the chores.

How? Well, they’d ‘split the house in half’. Nancy took the upstairs (cooking, cleaning, the majority of childcare) and Evan took the downstairs (fixing the car, dealing with the yard, and maintaining the house). For all that this apparently represented an even split, it wasn’t. Not only did Evan spend less time doing chores than Nancy, the chores he did gave him more freedom. It’s much easier to put off mowing the yard or some bit of home maintenance than it is to put off picking up your kid from daycare or cooking a meal.

The myth of the work being split in half allowed Nancy to feel like she hadn’t capitulated on her feminist principles, even though she had. From a certain point of view, the family myth was a useful fiction – it probably saved Nancy and Evan’s marriage. But it opened my eyes to the very real danger of allowing a convenient myth to become an unquestioned truth. It reminded me to be careful of any convenient myths and to favour data (e.g. directly comparing how much time my partner and I spend doing chores) over stories when deciding if things are fair.

Passive avoidance and making do with less

Another tactic favoured by men like Evan Holt who have little interest in helping with the second shift requires a combination of passive avoidance and making do with less. We saw the first half of this above. It was the strategy Evan used to get out of cooking. By forgetting the ingredients, he got out of the chore.

Passive avoidance allows for lazy partners to avoid chores they don’t want to do without having to have a conversation about why they’re avoiding them or if it is fair for them to. It was much easier for Evan to be berated for forgetting (a common human frailty) than for not wanting to split chores fairly, which Nancy might have taken (correctly?) to imply something about how much Evan cared about her.

On its own, this was a moderately effective way of getting out of work. To be truly effective, it had to be paired with making do with less. In the book, men who wanted their wives to do more of the cleaning claimed that their wife wanted things too clean; if it was just them, they’d clean much less often. Men who wanted to get out of cooking claimed that takeout was good enough for them. Men who were too lazy to help their wives shop for furniture claimed that they were perfectly happy in a bare house. Men who wished to get out of childcare said they were coddling the child too much and that their children should learn to be more independent.

By passively avoiding chores and then loudly claiming that the whole chore was unnecessary, men made their wives feel like asking for their help was an unreasonable imposition.

In The Second Shift, this was a highly gendered interaction. There were no women claiming that their husbands’ standards of cleanliness were too exacting. And while there’s no reason that this has to always be gendered, I suspect that as long as women are raised with more knowledge of chores (and expectations that they will be the ones to do them), this trend will continue.

The thing I find particularly unfortunate about this tactic is that it sets up a race to the bottom. Having the chores go to whomever cares the most sets up a terrible system of competitive insouciance.

While I acknowledge that it certainly is possible for partners to have very real differences in their desired level of cleanliness or in their desired calibre of meal preparation, I think it makes sense to have a strong habit of discounting those, so as to ensure a good incentive structure. As long as each partner has even one thing they care about more than the other, it should be possible for them to cultivate empathy and avoid the insidious temptation to put off chores by making do with less.

Not all chores are created equal

Even when men were splitting the chores evenly, this didn’t always translate to less work for their partners. The illustrative example here was Greg and Carol Alston. Both spent about the same amount of time working on tasks around the house, but this was driven in part by Greg taking on a variety of home improvement tasks.

Had Greg not done those, the family’s daily situation would have been the exact same. That’s not to say that this work at home wasn’t benefiting the family. It was increasing the resale value of their house and making their long-held dream of a move to the mountains and part-time work that much closer to fruition.

The Second Shift opened my eyes to the reality that some chores must get done in a household and it’s these chores on which I now want to judge sharing the second shift. It’s only these disruptive daily chores that can’t be set aside for something more important.

If Greg was exhausted, or sick, he could easily work less on the kitchen cabinets and make it up when he felt better. Carol had no such luck with her chores. Their daughter had to get fed and bathed regardless of how Carol felt.

Greg somewhat redeemed this imbalance by being entirely willing to help out with the daily chores when Carol needed him. If she was sick, he undoubtedly would have stepped in to help. This still left the burden of managing those daily chores and making sure they got done to Carol, but it offered her some buffer.

What chores are daily necessities will probably vary from couple to couple. If you and your partner are habitually neat but bad at cooking, you might decide that it is important that the house is tidied up daily, but you won’t mind if meals come from takeout.

In discussions with your partner about the second shift, it seems especially worthwhile to determine which chores you and your partner consider absolutely mandatory and ensure that in addition to balancing chores in general, you are approximately balanced here. Otherwise, the chores you do might not be lightening the load on your partner at all.

Gratitude

Despite that fact that Greg’s carpentry projects didn’t really reduce the burden on her, Carol was happy that he was doing them. For one, Greg treated her as someone with important opinions. He may have planned the projects, but he actively sought out and valued her input. In addition, by doing this, Greg was helping make one of Carol’s lifelong dreams a reality. Carol was grateful for the work that Greg was doing around the house.

Reading The Second Shift, it struck me how gratitude was the most important factor in how couples felt about how they split the chores. When one partner expected gratitude, but didn’t receive it, they felt a lot of resentment towards the other. Conversely, relationships were strengthened when one of the partners felt grateful for the things the other did by default.

This showed up in surprising places. When Nina Tanagawa started making more money than her husband Peter, he expected her to grateful that he was willing to accept it. On the other hand, when Ann Myerson started earning more than her husband Robert, he was ecstatic. He’s quoted as saying “[w]hen my wife started to earn more than I did, I thought I’d struck gold.” When furniture arrived, he was the one who waited for it, because it just made sense to him that the person making less money should take the time off work. His wife was reciprocally grateful that he wanted her to have a career and didn’t care if she made more than him. The existence of men like Peter made Ann grateful for Robert.

The worst situation was when one partner expected gratitude for something the other took for granted. When Jessica Stein cut back on work after the birth of her children, her husband Seth treated it like the natural order of the world. To Jessica, it stung. It wasn’t how she’d seen her life going. She’d thought that their careers would be treated as equally important. She expected gratitude (and perhaps equal sacrifices from Seth) in response to her sacrifice.

Seth’s “sacrifice” was working long hours for a large salary. But this wasn’t the sacrifice Jessica wanted of him. She wanted him to be present and helpful. Because of this mismatch, Jessica ended up withdrawing from her marriage and children. She spent the weekends in Seattle (she lived in the San Francisco bay area), with her old college friends. Professor Hochschild described the couple as “divorced in spirit”.

It’s all in the culture

So much of what drove gratitude was cultural. Nina felt grateful that her husband “tolerated” her higher salary because when she looked around at the other women she knew, she saw many of them married to men who wouldn’t have “tolerated” their wife making more than them.

Many of the men in Professor Hochschild’s study almost shared the second shift. They did something like 40% of the tasks around the home and with the kids. Interestingly, the wives of these men often felt like they shared (even though the men were likely to say that their wives did more). This became a sort of family myth of its own, that these men entirely shared, instead of almost entirely shared. Professor Hochschild suggests that this myth arose because when compared to other husbands, these men did so much more.

Who won conflicts about the second shift was often determined by the broader patterns of culture as well. If a husband did much more housework than the average (or was more willing to “tolerate” his wife working), then his wife was much less likely to be successful in causing him to contribute more. When compared against the reference class of “society”, many men did quite well, even though they were objectively lazy when compared to their wife.

This is a pattern I’ve observed in many relationship negotiations (both in my own life and in stories told by friends). It’s really hard to get the partner who is more willing to leave the relationship to do something they don’t want to do. In relationships that aren’t abusive or manipulative, people only do the things they freely choose. They obviously won’t freely choose to do anything that they like less than breaking up. But the very fact that breaking up will hurt them less than their partner makes it very hard for their partner to feel like they can push for changes.

In one of the two profiled couples who actually shared the second shift equally (Adrienne and Michael Sherman), their equality was brought about because Adrienne actually left Michael after his refusal to share the second shift and his insistence that his career come first. After two months, Michael called Adrienne and told her that he’d share. He loved her and didn’t feel like he could love anyone else as deeply as he loved her. She came back and they shared the housework and raising the kids. Michael surprised himself by how much he enjoyed it. He became the best father he knew and he took pride in this. But none of this would have been possible if Adrienne hadn’t been willing to leave.

While the division of the second shift is ostensibly an agreement among individuals, I don’t think the overarching problem is best addressed individually. As long as women feel like they’re getting a good deal when men almost do their fair share, many men won’t do any more. Policies – like extended, non-transferable parental leave after the birth of a child – that encourage men to spend time at home sharing the second shift are a necessary component of ending this gendered divide.