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After Work: The Politics of Free Time
A timely manifesto for a feminist post-work politics
Does it ever feel like you have no free time? You come home after work and instead of finding a space of rest and relaxation, you’re confronted by a pile of new tasks to complete – cooking, cleaning, looking after the kids, and so on.
In this ground-breaking book, Helen Hester and Nick Srnicek lay out how unpaid work in our homes has come to take up an ever-increasing portion of our lives – how the vacuum of free time has been taken up by vacuuming. Examining the history of the home over the past century – from running water to white goods to smart homes – they show how repeated efforts to reduce the burden of this work have faced a variety of barriers, challenges, and reversals.
Charting the trajectory of our domestic spaces over the past century, Hester and Srnicek consider new possibilities for the future, uncovering the abandoned ideas of anti-housework visionaries and sketching out a path towards real free time for all, where everyone is at liberty to pursue their passions, or do nothing at all. It will require rethinking our living arrangements, our expectations and our cities.
Does it ever feel like you have no free time? You come home after work and instead of finding a space of rest and relaxation, you’re confronted by a pile of new tasks to complete – cooking, cleaning, looking after the kids, and so on.
In this ground-breaking book, Helen Hester and Nick Srnicek lay out how unpaid work in our homes has come to take up an ever-increasing portion of our lives – how the vacuum of free time has been taken up by vacuuming. Examining the history of the home over the past century – from running water to white goods to smart homes – they show how repeated efforts to reduce the burden of this work have faced a variety of barriers, challenges, and reversals.
Charting the trajectory of our domestic spaces over the past century, Hester and Srnicek consider new possibilities for the future, uncovering the abandoned ideas of anti-housework visionaries and sketching out a path towards real free time for all, where everyone is at liberty to pursue their passions, or do nothing at all. It will require rethinking our living arrangements, our expectations and our cities.
288 pages, Hardcover
First published July 18, 2023
107 people are currently reading
4946 people want to read
About the author
Helen Hester
14 books115 followersHelen Hester joined UWL from Middlesex University, where she had served as Lecturer in Promotional Cultures and Senior Lecturer in Media.
Her research interests include technofeminism, sexuality studies, and theories of social reproduction, and she is a member of the international feminist collective Laboria Cuboniks.
Helen is the author of Beyond Explicit: Pornography and the Displacement of Sex (SUNY Press, 2014) and the co-editor of the collections Fat Sex: New Directions in Theory and Activism (Ashgate, 2015) and Dea ex Machina (Merve, 2015). She is also the series editor for Ashgate’s 'Sexualities in Society' book series.
Her research interests include technofeminism, sexuality studies, and theories of social reproduction, and she is a member of the international feminist collective Laboria Cuboniks.
Helen is the author of Beyond Explicit: Pornography and the Displacement of Sex (SUNY Press, 2014) and the co-editor of the collections Fat Sex: New Directions in Theory and Activism (Ashgate, 2015) and Dea ex Machina (Merve, 2015). She is also the series editor for Ashgate’s 'Sexualities in Society' book series.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 102 reviews
September 22, 2023
Admirable stuff, making arguments too often mired in posturing, shitposting and hand-waving in such a clear, concrete and calm way that by the end you would be the weirdo for *not* wanting communal child-rearing and constructivist bakeries.
July 12, 2024
Me quedo con la reflexión sobre cómo la sociedad en todas sus etapas (desde la educación obligatoria hasta la salida al sistema) está pensada y preparada para que entreguemos gran parte de nuestra vida a trabajar para otras personas.
Durante los 5 primeros capítulos ejemplifica este hecho con diversos casos en distintos aspectos de la vida cotidiana desde el siglo XIX (familia, hogar, ciudades). Aunque yo me quedo con el último, el sexto, el cual habría explorado mucho más ya que es el que realmente habla de propuestas para una sociedad poslaboral y poscapitalista, no utópica, sino necesaria.
“La sociedad poslaboral no debe ser confundida con un utópico punto de llegada, sino que se la debe entender más bien como parte de un interminable proceso prometeico para ampliar el ámbito de libertad. […] Necesitamos la libertad para determinar lo necesario”.
Durante los 5 primeros capítulos ejemplifica este hecho con diversos casos en distintos aspectos de la vida cotidiana desde el siglo XIX (familia, hogar, ciudades). Aunque yo me quedo con el último, el sexto, el cual habría explorado mucho más ya que es el que realmente habla de propuestas para una sociedad poslaboral y poscapitalista, no utópica, sino necesaria.
“La sociedad poslaboral no debe ser confundida con un utópico punto de llegada, sino que se la debe entender más bien como parte de un interminable proceso prometeico para ampliar el ámbito de libertad. […] Necesitamos la libertad para determinar lo necesario”.
July 26, 2023
There’s a long tradition of post-work writing on the left, which I first encountered in Andre Gorz’s 1985 book Paths to Paradise. While I struggled with many of his assumptions, I appreciated the focus on labour process and questions of self-organisation on a collective basis. I especially found these approaches much more convincing than the kinds of technologistic fantasies we saw in work by futurists such as Alvin Toffler (it wasn’t futurism that was the problem, but his unbridled faith in a technological solution, and lack of vision of how to get there – just that it could be got to). There has been a recent upsurge in this kind of work on the left, much of it frustratingly woven through with a similar technologistic fantasy that I continue to find unconvincing. It’s not the utopianism that bothers me – I enjoy a good utopian vision, it’s the belief that we can find a technological solution to our systems of exploitation and excess.
So, it was with a degree of trepidation that I picked up this book – partly also because I’d found Srnicek’s previous book Inventing the Future also unconvincing, but in part that concern was offset by his co-author, whose work I quite enjoy, but more so that this book appeared to engage with reproductive rather than productive labour. I wasn’t disappointed. Indeed it is reproductive labour that accounts for much of my scepticism about technologistic approaches, in part because the 20th century’s increasingly technological households – a primary site of reproductive labour – have seen little in the way of a post-work world despite a century or more of ‘labour saving’ devices.
Hester and Srincek build their case around four major tendencies. The changing technology of the household, from the industrialisation of domestic labour to the digitalisation of the household, as a trend that is not intended to serve the providers of reproductive labour. They then move on to look at notions of standards expected of domestic labour and social reproduction – as demands for levels of cleanliness or the aesthetics of domesticity enhanced and placed more demands of domestic workers. So far, this is the kind of critique we often hear, and the case, while expansive, seems to be developing as expected and leaving open the prospects of a technological solution.
From this point on, however, that technologism becomes less likely as Hester and Srinicek shift their focus first to take in ideas and expectations of the family form, the growth of the nuclear family as a privatised institution much further distanced its members from kinship and community networks than had been the case previously. Here they weave in both notions of the breadwinner wage and ideas that the privatisation of reproductive labour meant that it became much less effective and efficient. This then ties into the spaces of reproduction – the final element of their case. Here they explore a series of experiments in collectivising the labour essential for social reproduction – from efforts in the Soviet Union in the years immediately after the revolution collectivise kitchens for instance, which stumbled on a combination of patriarchal resistance and the pragmatics of housing demand – through to communal living explorations.
It is in these collective efforts of reproductive labour that they see the prospects for change, for reduction in the demands of and for work, and an enhanced quality of life. In this they reflect and critically draw on a long tradition of feminist reimaginings of work, labour, and the everyday, while recognising that the big challenge in all of this, alongside the extent of social transformation, is ecological cost, and how to achieve these post-work, and potentially post-scarcity, modes of being within a context of the urgent need to lessen our demands on our world. This has been a weakness in many of the technologisitic approaches so far; the recognition of the ecological quotient is a significant and important move.
One of the key reasons for my scepticism about much of the post-work literature is a tendency, in some cases at least, to the ‘so what do we do?’ question being answered with a series of imperatives, of what we ought to do, but very little of how to achieve those goals. In this discussion, Hester and Srnicek get a bit closer to the kind of vague utopianism that I appreciate, where the solutions are presented as possibilities for what post-work reproductive labour might look like, on the basis of s really rich and compelling discussion of a series of late 19th and 20th century social, cultural, and economic trends that have got us to where we now are, and have sought alternative – mainly less successfully.
The result is that I am left with a case that is a little frustrating, but tempting, holding up some exciting and not so engaging attempts to deal with reproductive labour, along with a vision of how social reproduction might look in a different world – all in all then, it’s a discussion that is good to think with, and for that I am grateful.
So, it was with a degree of trepidation that I picked up this book – partly also because I’d found Srnicek’s previous book Inventing the Future also unconvincing, but in part that concern was offset by his co-author, whose work I quite enjoy, but more so that this book appeared to engage with reproductive rather than productive labour. I wasn’t disappointed. Indeed it is reproductive labour that accounts for much of my scepticism about technologistic approaches, in part because the 20th century’s increasingly technological households – a primary site of reproductive labour – have seen little in the way of a post-work world despite a century or more of ‘labour saving’ devices.
Hester and Srincek build their case around four major tendencies. The changing technology of the household, from the industrialisation of domestic labour to the digitalisation of the household, as a trend that is not intended to serve the providers of reproductive labour. They then move on to look at notions of standards expected of domestic labour and social reproduction – as demands for levels of cleanliness or the aesthetics of domesticity enhanced and placed more demands of domestic workers. So far, this is the kind of critique we often hear, and the case, while expansive, seems to be developing as expected and leaving open the prospects of a technological solution.
From this point on, however, that technologism becomes less likely as Hester and Srinicek shift their focus first to take in ideas and expectations of the family form, the growth of the nuclear family as a privatised institution much further distanced its members from kinship and community networks than had been the case previously. Here they weave in both notions of the breadwinner wage and ideas that the privatisation of reproductive labour meant that it became much less effective and efficient. This then ties into the spaces of reproduction – the final element of their case. Here they explore a series of experiments in collectivising the labour essential for social reproduction – from efforts in the Soviet Union in the years immediately after the revolution collectivise kitchens for instance, which stumbled on a combination of patriarchal resistance and the pragmatics of housing demand – through to communal living explorations.
It is in these collective efforts of reproductive labour that they see the prospects for change, for reduction in the demands of and for work, and an enhanced quality of life. In this they reflect and critically draw on a long tradition of feminist reimaginings of work, labour, and the everyday, while recognising that the big challenge in all of this, alongside the extent of social transformation, is ecological cost, and how to achieve these post-work, and potentially post-scarcity, modes of being within a context of the urgent need to lessen our demands on our world. This has been a weakness in many of the technologisitic approaches so far; the recognition of the ecological quotient is a significant and important move.
One of the key reasons for my scepticism about much of the post-work literature is a tendency, in some cases at least, to the ‘so what do we do?’ question being answered with a series of imperatives, of what we ought to do, but very little of how to achieve those goals. In this discussion, Hester and Srnicek get a bit closer to the kind of vague utopianism that I appreciate, where the solutions are presented as possibilities for what post-work reproductive labour might look like, on the basis of s really rich and compelling discussion of a series of late 19th and 20th century social, cultural, and economic trends that have got us to where we now are, and have sought alternative – mainly less successfully.
The result is that I am left with a case that is a little frustrating, but tempting, holding up some exciting and not so engaging attempts to deal with reproductive labour, along with a vision of how social reproduction might look in a different world – all in all then, it’s a discussion that is good to think with, and for that I am grateful.
September 1, 2025
Weer echt een goed boek van Nick Srnicek, deze keer in samenwerking met Helen Hester. Srnicek en Hester reflecteren aan de hand van sociologische data en historische analyses op het werk dat ons leven buiten kantoortijd domineert. In verschillende hoofdstukken laten ze zien hoe ideeën over huishouden, mantelzorg, koken, schoonmaken, koopwoningen en binnenhuisarchitectuur zijn ontstaan - en hoe die ideeën samenhangen met gender-onderdrukking en de kapitalistische rat-race. Door het hele boek een inspirerende toekomstvisie van hoe een wereld met minder saai werk voor iedereen eruit zou kunnen zien. Veel interessante statistieken over de uren die we kwijt zijn aan huishoudelijk werk en de ongelijke genderverdeling daarvan. Daarnaast allerlei verhalen over historische initiatieven om huishoudelijk werk te de-privatiseren via high-tech collectieve keukens en wasserettes. Een fijn boek dat mij anders naar semi-vanzelfsprekende ideeën over het huishouden heeft doen kijken. Nu wil ik ook met mijn niet-kerngezin in een Fully Automated Luxury Communist huurhuis wonen.
September 2, 2023
Nimble, erudite, and at times invigorating. Anthropology of something so familiar and homely, we’ve just all taken it as how things are. The authors cover a huge range of material on the topics of housework, family, and the social and material structures that sustain them, but the writing remains engaging and cohesive, methodically building to the book's final thesis. Because the focus is on historical details of everyday life in particular eras, and of really existing alternatives to this hegemony, the book should be of value to people from a broad range of political and philosophical traditions. Theoretical speculation is saved for the book's final chapter, and by this point it feels practical and well grounded. It is both a sober and spirited manifesto for collective care in place of the deeply historically gendered institutions of housework.
This is not to say that the book is theoretically ambiguous. It can equally be read as a sophisticated contribution to debates on the nature of the realm of freedom, and their exploration by recent authors like Martin Hagglund. It also reads as a development of Srnicek's earlier work, which matures and revises some of its pronouncements, without letting go of the central commitment to prometheanism. This is a practical utopianism founded on experiences we all know intimately.
This is not to say that the book is theoretically ambiguous. It can equally be read as a sophisticated contribution to debates on the nature of the realm of freedom, and their exploration by recent authors like Martin Hagglund. It also reads as a development of Srnicek's earlier work, which matures and revises some of its pronouncements, without letting go of the central commitment to prometheanism. This is a practical utopianism founded on experiences we all know intimately.
September 2, 2023
4 stars. In ‘After Work’, Helen Hester and Nick Srnicek delve into an incredibly in-depth analysis, spread across four key areas: the evolution of household technologies, the shifting norms, standards, and expectations of domestic labour and social reproduction, the evolving concepts and anticipations surrounding family structures, including the rise of the nuclear family as a privatised entity more separated frm its kinship and communal ties than it has been in the past, and lastly, an exploration of the various arenas of reproduction, such as the collective approaches to social reproduction labour and on to communal living experiments, among other things here and there.
One thing I found very interesting about this book was its exploration of the profound transformations that the industrialisation of domestic labour has brought about. Delving into the transition of household tasks frm manual household-based production to mass-market production and consumption, Hester and Srnicek trace the evolution of convenience, efficiency, and comfort as driving forces behind this societal shift. They present a thorough analysis of how this shift has both improved the quality of life fr many, but, at the same time, exacerbated immense and rigid inequalities.
Srnicek and Hester adeptly dissect the multifaceted impacts of this evolution on women, and particularly immigrant women and women of colour, who have historically been the primary providers of reproductive labour. While the potential fr alleviating certain burdens is evident, they astutely demonstrate how these changes also reinforce disparities, disproportionately affecting marginalised groups. Their questioning of the trade-offs between convenience and equitable distribution of benefits is a really interesting aspect of the book.
They also cast a critical eye on the transformation of the “housewife” figure as domestic labour evolved. As tasks once performed collectively were redefined within individual households, the value and significance of this labour often remained hidden within the private realm. This erasure of recognition reflects a broader societal oversight that the authors deftly address. Frm this needs to come impactful discourse pertaining to the resurgence of complex labour arrangements, drawing attention to the class and race dynamics inherent in the outsourcing of domestic work. The cycle of outsourcing, particularly involving low-income individuals and predominantly women of colour and immigrant women, echoes historical patterns while shedding light on persisting inequalities.
I also appreciated their discussion on “hustle culture” and the relentless pursuit of productivity in our lives, encroaching into our precious and limited leisure time. In a society where the value of one’s existence is often measured by their ability to constantly work and, increasingly over the last five or so years, accumulate side hustles, it’s no wonder that, as Hester and Srnicek explain, guilt can creep in when we take a moment to pause. This culture extends beyond the traditional workday, w technology now blurring the lines between one’s professional and personal life, as the pressure to always be accessible to our workplaces erodes the boundaries that once separated remunerated work frm our private home life. And increasingly, instead of savouring our leisure time, many of us now often find ourselves haunted by the imperative to be productive. Fr instance, activities that were once considered simple pleasures, like watching tele or reading, are now tainted by the notion that they are time-wasting endeavours, and the pressure to make every moment count leaves us unable to simply rest and enjoy life w/out the nagging feeling that we should be doing something more “productive.”
And in light of this, Hester and Srnicek underscore the need fr a reevaluation of our values and priorities, and call fr a shift away frm the relentless pursuit of productivity and the guilt that accompanies any moment of idleness. Instead, they explain we should be encouraged to find a balance that allows us to truly relish our leisure time and embrace the importance of rest, relaxation, and enjoying the present moment. We must allow ourselves the freedom to break free frm the chains of perpetual busyness, and leave hustle culture in the chaotic 2020-2022 covid era where it belongs.
Likewise, I deeply appreciated their examination of the welfare state’s historical role in shaping and enforcing societal standards. They emphasise how the welfare state, while ostensibly designed to provide support and assistance to those in need, has rather become a mechanism of surveillance and control, especially, as Hester and Srnicek explore, when it comes to matters of morality, hygiene, and family configurations. Throughout history, state figures such as health inspectors, school inspectors, and social workers have been tasked w enforcing prevailing bourgeois notions of morality and acceptable behaviour, primarily within working-class communities, and this enforcement of standards can range frm relatively minor issues like school dress codes to far more serious cases involving the removal of children frm their families and placement in underfunded foster care systems.
The child welfare system, then, has come under scrutiny fr imposing standards that extend beyond safety and wellbeing, often leading to investigations based on arbitrary criteria or biases. These investigations, more often than not, target poor families and subject them to intensive surveillance, perpetuating a cycle of state intervention rather than offering meaningful assistance. The authors also explore how teachers, nurses, and social workers, as agents of the state, have played key roles in producing a docile and exploitable workforce, which is inherently tied to state repression. The imposition of specific standards of self-presentation, hygiene, and behaviour is all part of this process, as individual choices and deliberation about these standards often encounter significant limitations, particularly when these norms are codified into law.
So w this in mind, we urgently need to transform the structures that impose these standards and to collectively determine and self-legislate the norms we wish to uphold, as well as deeply question the balance between state intervention and individual agency, advocating fr a more equitable participatory, and communal approach to shaping societal standards and supporting those in need, w/out resorting to surveillance and control as the default response, but rather one based in mutual aid.
Another facet of the book that stood out to me that Hester and Srnicek highlight is that despite some significant progress in gender equality in many aspects of society, there nevertheless remains a persistent and deeply entrenched gendered division of labour within the family, as the family unit, traditionally seen as the cornerstone of society, more often than not perpetuates inequalities, particularly in terms of social reproduction and unwaged work.
Like even as women’s participation in the paid workforce has increased since the 1960s, and men have taken on slightly (only slightly!) more household responsibilities, the gendered division of labour within the family endures. Women around the world continue to bear the brunt of unwaged housework and caregiving duties, dedicating on average 3.2 times more hours to these tasks than men. This gendered disparity in unpaid care work persists, w American women, fr instance, accounting fr 60 per cent of unpaid care work in 2015.
Statistics like these reveal that the gendered division of labour within the family is remarkably resistant to change. To give further examples, employed women in the USA saw no reduction in the number of hours they spent on unwaged social reproduction between 1985 and 2004. Likewise, in the UK, women perform 60 per cent more unwaged labour than men, and even in Nordic countries celebrated fr their high rates of gender equality, women in Norway and Denmark still do nearly 1.5 times as much unpaid work. Even in Sweden, often hailed as a paragon of gender equality, the average woman performs 1.6 years more of unpaid social reproduction labour than the average man during her lifetime. These persistent disparities raise critical questions about the true nature of gender equality, social reproduction, and unwaged labour. It underscores the need fr a comprehensive reevaluation of societal norms, policies, and structures, not only in the workplace but within privatised spaces like the home.
Basically, check out this quote: “Women across the world almost always have less leisure time than men - on average, thirty-three minutes less per day, or nearly four hours less per week. The official statistics for the UK arrive at a similar conclusion: men currently have five hours more free time per week, and this inequality has been increasing over the past fifteen years. Further imbalances become apparent when one considers the character of that free time… For example, according to a standard time-use survey, a mother who is watching television while also passively supervising a toddler playing nearby would be coded as enjoying her free time. Yet obviously this situation also involves some element of childcare work and in any case is a quite different type of free time than that experienced when one’s dependents are not present. This is one reason why those heavily engaged in social reproduction work tend to have a different experience of time. This work involves frequent interruptions and demands persistent background attention. Given that men spend a greater portion of their leisure time not in the company of their children, it is little surprise that researchers find they have better quality free time than women: they are more likely to have longer periods of leisure, with fewer distractions, restrictions, and interruptions.”
Ultimately, in ‘After Work,’ Hester and Srnicek present a well-written and eye-opening narrative that, among other things, underscores the transformative power of industrialisation and digitalisation on social reproduction, the home, and domestic labour. Their analysis of the multifaceted impact on both convenience and inequality, coupled with the incisive exploration of historical shifts in labour dynamics, offers us a profound understanding of the complexities woven into the fabric of societal evolution. This book is an insightful contribution to discussions surrounding gender, labour, and the broader implications of industrialisation and digitalisation.
One thing I found very interesting about this book was its exploration of the profound transformations that the industrialisation of domestic labour has brought about. Delving into the transition of household tasks frm manual household-based production to mass-market production and consumption, Hester and Srnicek trace the evolution of convenience, efficiency, and comfort as driving forces behind this societal shift. They present a thorough analysis of how this shift has both improved the quality of life fr many, but, at the same time, exacerbated immense and rigid inequalities.
Srnicek and Hester adeptly dissect the multifaceted impacts of this evolution on women, and particularly immigrant women and women of colour, who have historically been the primary providers of reproductive labour. While the potential fr alleviating certain burdens is evident, they astutely demonstrate how these changes also reinforce disparities, disproportionately affecting marginalised groups. Their questioning of the trade-offs between convenience and equitable distribution of benefits is a really interesting aspect of the book.
They also cast a critical eye on the transformation of the “housewife” figure as domestic labour evolved. As tasks once performed collectively were redefined within individual households, the value and significance of this labour often remained hidden within the private realm. This erasure of recognition reflects a broader societal oversight that the authors deftly address. Frm this needs to come impactful discourse pertaining to the resurgence of complex labour arrangements, drawing attention to the class and race dynamics inherent in the outsourcing of domestic work. The cycle of outsourcing, particularly involving low-income individuals and predominantly women of colour and immigrant women, echoes historical patterns while shedding light on persisting inequalities.
I also appreciated their discussion on “hustle culture” and the relentless pursuit of productivity in our lives, encroaching into our precious and limited leisure time. In a society where the value of one’s existence is often measured by their ability to constantly work and, increasingly over the last five or so years, accumulate side hustles, it’s no wonder that, as Hester and Srnicek explain, guilt can creep in when we take a moment to pause. This culture extends beyond the traditional workday, w technology now blurring the lines between one’s professional and personal life, as the pressure to always be accessible to our workplaces erodes the boundaries that once separated remunerated work frm our private home life. And increasingly, instead of savouring our leisure time, many of us now often find ourselves haunted by the imperative to be productive. Fr instance, activities that were once considered simple pleasures, like watching tele or reading, are now tainted by the notion that they are time-wasting endeavours, and the pressure to make every moment count leaves us unable to simply rest and enjoy life w/out the nagging feeling that we should be doing something more “productive.”
And in light of this, Hester and Srnicek underscore the need fr a reevaluation of our values and priorities, and call fr a shift away frm the relentless pursuit of productivity and the guilt that accompanies any moment of idleness. Instead, they explain we should be encouraged to find a balance that allows us to truly relish our leisure time and embrace the importance of rest, relaxation, and enjoying the present moment. We must allow ourselves the freedom to break free frm the chains of perpetual busyness, and leave hustle culture in the chaotic 2020-2022 covid era where it belongs.
Likewise, I deeply appreciated their examination of the welfare state’s historical role in shaping and enforcing societal standards. They emphasise how the welfare state, while ostensibly designed to provide support and assistance to those in need, has rather become a mechanism of surveillance and control, especially, as Hester and Srnicek explore, when it comes to matters of morality, hygiene, and family configurations. Throughout history, state figures such as health inspectors, school inspectors, and social workers have been tasked w enforcing prevailing bourgeois notions of morality and acceptable behaviour, primarily within working-class communities, and this enforcement of standards can range frm relatively minor issues like school dress codes to far more serious cases involving the removal of children frm their families and placement in underfunded foster care systems.
The child welfare system, then, has come under scrutiny fr imposing standards that extend beyond safety and wellbeing, often leading to investigations based on arbitrary criteria or biases. These investigations, more often than not, target poor families and subject them to intensive surveillance, perpetuating a cycle of state intervention rather than offering meaningful assistance. The authors also explore how teachers, nurses, and social workers, as agents of the state, have played key roles in producing a docile and exploitable workforce, which is inherently tied to state repression. The imposition of specific standards of self-presentation, hygiene, and behaviour is all part of this process, as individual choices and deliberation about these standards often encounter significant limitations, particularly when these norms are codified into law.
So w this in mind, we urgently need to transform the structures that impose these standards and to collectively determine and self-legislate the norms we wish to uphold, as well as deeply question the balance between state intervention and individual agency, advocating fr a more equitable participatory, and communal approach to shaping societal standards and supporting those in need, w/out resorting to surveillance and control as the default response, but rather one based in mutual aid.
Another facet of the book that stood out to me that Hester and Srnicek highlight is that despite some significant progress in gender equality in many aspects of society, there nevertheless remains a persistent and deeply entrenched gendered division of labour within the family, as the family unit, traditionally seen as the cornerstone of society, more often than not perpetuates inequalities, particularly in terms of social reproduction and unwaged work.
Like even as women’s participation in the paid workforce has increased since the 1960s, and men have taken on slightly (only slightly!) more household responsibilities, the gendered division of labour within the family endures. Women around the world continue to bear the brunt of unwaged housework and caregiving duties, dedicating on average 3.2 times more hours to these tasks than men. This gendered disparity in unpaid care work persists, w American women, fr instance, accounting fr 60 per cent of unpaid care work in 2015.
Statistics like these reveal that the gendered division of labour within the family is remarkably resistant to change. To give further examples, employed women in the USA saw no reduction in the number of hours they spent on unwaged social reproduction between 1985 and 2004. Likewise, in the UK, women perform 60 per cent more unwaged labour than men, and even in Nordic countries celebrated fr their high rates of gender equality, women in Norway and Denmark still do nearly 1.5 times as much unpaid work. Even in Sweden, often hailed as a paragon of gender equality, the average woman performs 1.6 years more of unpaid social reproduction labour than the average man during her lifetime. These persistent disparities raise critical questions about the true nature of gender equality, social reproduction, and unwaged labour. It underscores the need fr a comprehensive reevaluation of societal norms, policies, and structures, not only in the workplace but within privatised spaces like the home.
Basically, check out this quote: “Women across the world almost always have less leisure time than men - on average, thirty-three minutes less per day, or nearly four hours less per week. The official statistics for the UK arrive at a similar conclusion: men currently have five hours more free time per week, and this inequality has been increasing over the past fifteen years. Further imbalances become apparent when one considers the character of that free time… For example, according to a standard time-use survey, a mother who is watching television while also passively supervising a toddler playing nearby would be coded as enjoying her free time. Yet obviously this situation also involves some element of childcare work and in any case is a quite different type of free time than that experienced when one’s dependents are not present. This is one reason why those heavily engaged in social reproduction work tend to have a different experience of time. This work involves frequent interruptions and demands persistent background attention. Given that men spend a greater portion of their leisure time not in the company of their children, it is little surprise that researchers find they have better quality free time than women: they are more likely to have longer periods of leisure, with fewer distractions, restrictions, and interruptions.”
Ultimately, in ‘After Work,’ Hester and Srnicek present a well-written and eye-opening narrative that, among other things, underscores the transformative power of industrialisation and digitalisation on social reproduction, the home, and domestic labour. Their analysis of the multifaceted impact on both convenience and inequality, coupled with the incisive exploration of historical shifts in labour dynamics, offers us a profound understanding of the complexities woven into the fabric of societal evolution. This book is an insightful contribution to discussions surrounding gender, labour, and the broader implications of industrialisation and digitalisation.
May 5, 2025
Je skvělé mít tuto knihu v češtině - je skvělým rozcestníkem k argumentům a dalším myšlenkám. Syntéza, o které se hodí diskutovat zvlášť v zemi posedlé produktivitou a zbavené imaginace, možná i smyslu pro společnost. Představte si, že by někdo diskutoval o komunitní péči v DVTV a nikdo by se neposmíval. Nebo by kvalitní městské nájemní vztahy měly krásné společné prostory, kolárny, prádelny, herničky pro děti. (Víc detailů a obrázků modernistických nápadů pro změnu “bytu” najdete v Militantní modernismus.)
V postwork debatě mě pořád ruší odpor ke dřině, což je minimálně v našich jazycích velmi tělesné prožívání práce - a také něco co pozdně moderní lidé vyhledávají i v jiných částech života (ehm, ultramaratony?). Kdyby nebylo dřiny (opakovaných úkonů, kterými se zdokonalujeme například ve štopování, fyzické námahy z obdělávání zahrady), asi bychom si je museli pro postpracovní svět stejně vymyslet. To je asi můj bias protože únava z běhu pro mě není v ničem lepší než únava z okopávání brambor.
V postwork debatě mě pořád ruší odpor ke dřině, což je minimálně v našich jazycích velmi tělesné prožívání práce - a také něco co pozdně moderní lidé vyhledávají i v jiných částech života (ehm, ultramaratony?). Kdyby nebylo dřiny (opakovaných úkonů, kterými se zdokonalujeme například ve štopování, fyzické námahy z obdělávání zahrady), asi bychom si je museli pro postpracovní svět stejně vymyslet. To je asi můj bias protože únava z běhu pro mě není v ničem lepší než únava z okopávání brambor.
January 14, 2024
This book is, as its subtitle promises, a fantastic “history of the home and the fight for free time.” It is especially eye-opening about the massive technological changes in the home that took place from the late 19th century through the middle of the 20th in industrialized societies. What we now call “utilities” (water, gas, electricity) and “home appliances” (refrigerators, gas and electric stoves, vacuum cleaners, washing machines) made the work of heating, lighting and cleaning homes, and keeping their inhabitants fed and clothed, vastly easier and cleaner. Bathing, for example, used to require the hauling of both coal and water into the household, and the burning of the coal to heat the water would coat the interior of the house with an extra layer of soot, just as the bather cleansed his or her body of, among other things, prior layers of soot from heating the house and cooking the food.
Also fascinating is the book’s account, in the chapter “Families,” of how these technological changes contributed to the creation of the concept of the male “breadwinner” — a member of the household who was almost entirely exempted from any obligation to labor within it. Together with the increasing social focus on children as objects of work rather than small workers themselves, all the work of maintaining a household, which had once been shared (in an albeit highly gendered way) among all of its members, increasingly became the responsibility of the “housewife.”
As the authors point out, the single-family home (whether a suburban McMansion or an urban condo, whether rented or owned) is a spectacularly inefficient use of resources, when considered on a society-wide basis. Most of the space in our homes is devoid of people most of the time, and the complex machines that are now considered an essential part of most homes (our lawn mowers, washers and driers, even our dishwashers and stoves) sit unused most of the time. In the chapter “Spaces,” they delve into the history of attempts to build alternative, more socialized living spaces, from the brief, utopian attempts to build housing communes in the Soviet Union following the Russian Revolution to 60s-era countercultural communes and lesbian separatist communities in the 70s.
A particular strength of the book is its consistently feminist lens, and its (probably related, though not explicitly so) recognition of the value of privacy, even as it celebrates socialized alternatives to the single-family home. The authors propose, as a guide to imagining how people will be fed, housed, clothed and cared for in a postcapitalist world, “public luxury” combined with “private sufficiency.” Public luxury means taking social-reproduction needs that are currently met mostly through unpaid (and predominantly female) labor in the home and providing socialized alternatives: public child care, cafeterias, laundry services, etc., along with common indoor and outdoor spaces for leisure. Private sufficiency means providing adequate housing so that every individual or group of people who chose to live together (whether a traditional “family” or not) have the private, personal space that they need.
This seems to me a good goal, and it dovetails well with some of the key political struggles of our time: defending public education (which is already, in some sense, a “public luxury,” though one constantly under attack) and, in the U.S., fighting for universal healthcare — as the authors point out, the healthcare system is increasingly replacing in-hospital care with at-home care, expected to be done for free by relatives. It is also nicely consonant with the vision of the Green New Deal put forward by Kate Aronoff, among others.
However, I think the book could have benefitted from more engagement with the intellectual traditions of Marxism (something you can do even if your politics aren’t Marxist!). One of Marx’s central insights was that capitalism, far from being “individualist” in the way that its ideology projects, in fact requires the socialization of production — under capitalism, no one is producing widgets individually and bringing them to market, they are part of a widget-producing system. It is precisely the contradiction between the socialization of production and the privatization of profit which makes capitalism so brutal and inhumane, but its socialization of production creates the possibility — if the ownership and control of the means of production are also socialized — of human liberation.
Looking at things like utilities, education, and healthcare as social reproduction that has been socialized in fact (if not consistently in ownership or control) would have allowed the book to make a better connection between the home as a site of labor and more “traditional” (and more widely known) struggles of the workers’ movement. Indeed, as Shelton Stromquist discusses in his recent history Claiming the City: A Global History of Workers’ Fight for Municipal Socialism, the fight for public ownership of utilities was central to workers’ political struggles throughout the industrialized world — and the high point of the “fight for municipal socialism” in Stromquist’s book, “Red Vienna” in the 1920s, was also the site of the most extensive, and most durable, experiment with social housing described by Hester and Srnicek.
The book also could have benefitted from more engagement with the history of “second-wave” feminism, especially in the U.S., and struggles within the home over the allocation of unpaid labor. As Barbara Ehrenreich pointed out in her book Fear of Falling: The Inner Life of the Middle Class, part of the reason why the second-wave feminist movement was especially explosive in the U.S. was because in the U.S. the middle class had “proletarianized” its own wives and mothers (in contrast to other countries, where smaller middle classes were more willing and able to employ domestic servants to do the most menial household tasks).
Nonetheless, a sharp and well-researched piece of work, and a great contribution towards expanding our vision of what a sustainable and postcapitalist future could and should look like.
Also fascinating is the book’s account, in the chapter “Families,” of how these technological changes contributed to the creation of the concept of the male “breadwinner” — a member of the household who was almost entirely exempted from any obligation to labor within it. Together with the increasing social focus on children as objects of work rather than small workers themselves, all the work of maintaining a household, which had once been shared (in an albeit highly gendered way) among all of its members, increasingly became the responsibility of the “housewife.”
As the authors point out, the single-family home (whether a suburban McMansion or an urban condo, whether rented or owned) is a spectacularly inefficient use of resources, when considered on a society-wide basis. Most of the space in our homes is devoid of people most of the time, and the complex machines that are now considered an essential part of most homes (our lawn mowers, washers and driers, even our dishwashers and stoves) sit unused most of the time. In the chapter “Spaces,” they delve into the history of attempts to build alternative, more socialized living spaces, from the brief, utopian attempts to build housing communes in the Soviet Union following the Russian Revolution to 60s-era countercultural communes and lesbian separatist communities in the 70s.
A particular strength of the book is its consistently feminist lens, and its (probably related, though not explicitly so) recognition of the value of privacy, even as it celebrates socialized alternatives to the single-family home. The authors propose, as a guide to imagining how people will be fed, housed, clothed and cared for in a postcapitalist world, “public luxury” combined with “private sufficiency.” Public luxury means taking social-reproduction needs that are currently met mostly through unpaid (and predominantly female) labor in the home and providing socialized alternatives: public child care, cafeterias, laundry services, etc., along with common indoor and outdoor spaces for leisure. Private sufficiency means providing adequate housing so that every individual or group of people who chose to live together (whether a traditional “family” or not) have the private, personal space that they need.
This seems to me a good goal, and it dovetails well with some of the key political struggles of our time: defending public education (which is already, in some sense, a “public luxury,” though one constantly under attack) and, in the U.S., fighting for universal healthcare — as the authors point out, the healthcare system is increasingly replacing in-hospital care with at-home care, expected to be done for free by relatives. It is also nicely consonant with the vision of the Green New Deal put forward by Kate Aronoff, among others.
However, I think the book could have benefitted from more engagement with the intellectual traditions of Marxism (something you can do even if your politics aren’t Marxist!). One of Marx’s central insights was that capitalism, far from being “individualist” in the way that its ideology projects, in fact requires the socialization of production — under capitalism, no one is producing widgets individually and bringing them to market, they are part of a widget-producing system. It is precisely the contradiction between the socialization of production and the privatization of profit which makes capitalism so brutal and inhumane, but its socialization of production creates the possibility — if the ownership and control of the means of production are also socialized — of human liberation.
Looking at things like utilities, education, and healthcare as social reproduction that has been socialized in fact (if not consistently in ownership or control) would have allowed the book to make a better connection between the home as a site of labor and more “traditional” (and more widely known) struggles of the workers’ movement. Indeed, as Shelton Stromquist discusses in his recent history Claiming the City: A Global History of Workers’ Fight for Municipal Socialism, the fight for public ownership of utilities was central to workers’ political struggles throughout the industrialized world — and the high point of the “fight for municipal socialism” in Stromquist’s book, “Red Vienna” in the 1920s, was also the site of the most extensive, and most durable, experiment with social housing described by Hester and Srnicek.
The book also could have benefitted from more engagement with the history of “second-wave” feminism, especially in the U.S., and struggles within the home over the allocation of unpaid labor. As Barbara Ehrenreich pointed out in her book Fear of Falling: The Inner Life of the Middle Class, part of the reason why the second-wave feminist movement was especially explosive in the U.S. was because in the U.S. the middle class had “proletarianized” its own wives and mothers (in contrast to other countries, where smaller middle classes were more willing and able to employ domestic servants to do the most menial household tasks).
Nonetheless, a sharp and well-researched piece of work, and a great contribution towards expanding our vision of what a sustainable and postcapitalist future could and should look like.
July 31, 2025
While much of “post-work” writing focuses on waged labor and automation, After Work turns our attention to the often neglected realm of domestic labor, offering a (techno)materialist feminist perspective on social reproduction. Helen Hester and Nick Srnicek had been working for years on this project, which was (fittingly) postponed to raise their three children.
The book can be summarized around the concept of Domestic Realism (a nod to Mark Fisher’s Capitalist Realism): the ideal home as a private, gendered sphere, centered around a heterosexual couple and their children; treated as universal and natural. Households are expected to provide their own cooking, childcare, elder care, cleaning, emotional support, etc., with the unequal burden of care and domestic labor falling on women.
The authors trace the long history of domestic labor from feudalism to the industrial revolution, and the rise of the modern household as a privatized, gendered domestic sphere, and the rise of the “housewife mother”, the “breadwinner father”, and the consolidation of the nuclear family.
And despite improvements in domestic technologies (ovens, fridges, washing machines, vacuum cleaners, etc.), time spent on domestic labor did not meaningfully decrease up until the 1970s; not only due to the unequal distribution of housework but also because of increasingly demanding standards of cleanliness and parenting.
Even more recently, while there has been some reduction in time spent on domestic labor -- partly due to a somewhat more equitable division of housework between partners (though women still bear most of the burden) or sometimes due to “outsourcing” (often to low-paid immigrant workers) -- new tech has not meaningfully reduced the overall labor. “Smart home” innovations often replicate the assumptions of domestic realism (while supporting surveillance capitalism and data extraction), rather than genuinely freeing time.
After Work is a welcome intervention into the broader post-work literature, which tends to focus narrowly on waged labor and often ignores domestic labor altogether.
Another positive: unlike some post-work writing, this book is not techno-utopian or techno-determinist. While certain technologies (if correctly designed and employed) can be essential to freeing up time, a post-work future cannot be achieved through automation alone. It requires structural transformation, new forms of organization and ways of living.
Moreover, post-work is framed as a horizon, not some utopian endpoint. For the foreseeable future, there will still be necessary, unavoidable productive and reproductive labor.
Drawing from historical experiments (the Frankfurt Kitchen, Red Vienna, Soviet Russia’s early communal kitchens and childcare facilities, among others) not only for inspiration but also to examine their strengths, limitations, and eventual failures, the authors argue that going towards post-work would also require: (1) Necessary labor to be distributed more fairly and equitably; (2) Communal care (public infrastructures for cooking, care, laundering, etc.) without ignoring private spaces and autonomy in the home; (3) Public “luxury” (parks, museums, libraries, but also tools for collective creative projects, e.g., why not public music studios?).
On the (slightly) critical side: The authors offer little on the question of transition; how such changes can actually come about. I think that moving toward and sustaining a post-work future requires grounding in present-day struggles and a broader expansion of democratic participation, both in workplaces and across society. Moreover, the book engages with the climate crisis only in passing. Though I think its arguments could easily be combined with a degrowth/post-growth framework: building technologies and systems that meet human needs, improve well-being, and free up time, without relying on perpetual growth (See: Less is More by Jason Hickel). And while historically rich, it is limited to the Global North; though the authors acknowledge this limitation (e.g., Youtube: After Work: What Is Left?, min: ~38:00), citing the immense challenge of addressing both “the crisis of care and the crisis of work” even just the OECD countries, along with the relative lack of available research on social reproduction in the Global South. That said, I still found this a valuable and thought-provoking read.
The book can be summarized around the concept of Domestic Realism (a nod to Mark Fisher’s Capitalist Realism): the ideal home as a private, gendered sphere, centered around a heterosexual couple and their children; treated as universal and natural. Households are expected to provide their own cooking, childcare, elder care, cleaning, emotional support, etc., with the unequal burden of care and domestic labor falling on women.
The authors trace the long history of domestic labor from feudalism to the industrial revolution, and the rise of the modern household as a privatized, gendered domestic sphere, and the rise of the “housewife mother”, the “breadwinner father”, and the consolidation of the nuclear family.
And despite improvements in domestic technologies (ovens, fridges, washing machines, vacuum cleaners, etc.), time spent on domestic labor did not meaningfully decrease up until the 1970s; not only due to the unequal distribution of housework but also because of increasingly demanding standards of cleanliness and parenting.
Even more recently, while there has been some reduction in time spent on domestic labor -- partly due to a somewhat more equitable division of housework between partners (though women still bear most of the burden) or sometimes due to “outsourcing” (often to low-paid immigrant workers) -- new tech has not meaningfully reduced the overall labor. “Smart home” innovations often replicate the assumptions of domestic realism (while supporting surveillance capitalism and data extraction), rather than genuinely freeing time.
After Work is a welcome intervention into the broader post-work literature, which tends to focus narrowly on waged labor and often ignores domestic labor altogether.
Another positive: unlike some post-work writing, this book is not techno-utopian or techno-determinist. While certain technologies (if correctly designed and employed) can be essential to freeing up time, a post-work future cannot be achieved through automation alone. It requires structural transformation, new forms of organization and ways of living.
Moreover, post-work is framed as a horizon, not some utopian endpoint. For the foreseeable future, there will still be necessary, unavoidable productive and reproductive labor.
Drawing from historical experiments (the Frankfurt Kitchen, Red Vienna, Soviet Russia’s early communal kitchens and childcare facilities, among others) not only for inspiration but also to examine their strengths, limitations, and eventual failures, the authors argue that going towards post-work would also require: (1) Necessary labor to be distributed more fairly and equitably; (2) Communal care (public infrastructures for cooking, care, laundering, etc.) without ignoring private spaces and autonomy in the home; (3) Public “luxury” (parks, museums, libraries, but also tools for collective creative projects, e.g., why not public music studios?).
On the (slightly) critical side: The authors offer little on the question of transition; how such changes can actually come about. I think that moving toward and sustaining a post-work future requires grounding in present-day struggles and a broader expansion of democratic participation, both in workplaces and across society. Moreover, the book engages with the climate crisis only in passing. Though I think its arguments could easily be combined with a degrowth/post-growth framework: building technologies and systems that meet human needs, improve well-being, and free up time, without relying on perpetual growth (See: Less is More by Jason Hickel). And while historically rich, it is limited to the Global North; though the authors acknowledge this limitation (e.g., Youtube: After Work: What Is Left?, min: ~38:00), citing the immense challenge of addressing both “the crisis of care and the crisis of work” even just the OECD countries, along with the relative lack of available research on social reproduction in the Global South. That said, I still found this a valuable and thought-provoking read.
July 25, 2025
Es un buen libro, con muchas referencias y muy bien construido y referenciado. Por eso tiene bajo mi punto de vista, 4 estrellas, porque es un gran trabajo bibliográfico.
Sin embargo, el capítulo dedicado a "después del trabajo" es muy escueto y carece de una propuesta novedosa. Tal vez tenía las expectativas muy altas al respecto o leí mal las reseñas que tenía (me suele pasar).
Sin embargo, el capítulo dedicado a "después del trabajo" es muy escueto y carece de una propuesta novedosa. Tal vez tenía las expectativas muy altas al respecto o leí mal las reseñas que tenía (me suele pasar).
April 21, 2025
Está tan bien escrito que hace soñar con otros futuros posibles sea un poquito más fácil
November 23, 2025
En este ensayo los autores establecen un enfoque sobre la reproducción social que valore la libertad para todos, es decir reconocer que el trabajo reproductivo es un trabajo, y que hay que reducir y redistribuir este trabajo de manera equitativa. Esta reducción del trabajo no remunerado no es para las que las mujeres se incorporen al mercado laboral (como idearon los movimientos feministas) ni porque sea una actividad monótona, repetitiva e ingrata para todos ( angela davis ) . Esta lucha por la reducción del trabajo reproductivo es un prerrequisito para nuestra libertad, es una lucha por nuestro tiempo libre y poder elegir qué hacemos con ese tiempo de manera autómata.
Dentro de esta historia del hogar y de la lucha por el tiempo libre se analizan las tecnologías. Si bien es verdad que los avances tecnológicos en el hogar han reducido las cargas de este trabajo como bien contrarresta la paradoja de Cowan a pesar de ellas el trabajo doméstico no disminuyó sino que se individualizó en una sola persona ("ama de casa"). Las tareas del hogar siguen siendo interminables no porque no hubiera medios en casa sino porque se aisló a la persona encargada de hacerlas ( selma james ). Con estas nuevas tecnologías incrementaron los estándares de lo socialmente aceptable ( limpieza de la casa, alimentación , cuidados ..), la cuestión quizás no es acabar con ellos si no entender que son imposiciones sociales.
Los autores hacen un recorrido también por el concepto de familia y el uso de los espacios comunes, con una idea que me parece esencial que es la de revocar el concepto de familia nuclear, de no penalizar otros modelos de familia y de ampliar y reconocer que pueden existir otras formas dentro del colectivo de los cuidados . También establecer una serie de infraestructuras públicas para colectivizar parte del trabajo doméstico. No se trata de que no cocinemos o tengamos un huerto o deleguemos el cuidados de los hijes se trata de que estas actividades se puedan elegir en mayor o menor medida de manera autómata y son sean una cuestión de supervivencia.
Dentro de esta historia del hogar y de la lucha por el tiempo libre se analizan las tecnologías. Si bien es verdad que los avances tecnológicos en el hogar han reducido las cargas de este trabajo como bien contrarresta la paradoja de Cowan a pesar de ellas el trabajo doméstico no disminuyó sino que se individualizó en una sola persona ("ama de casa"). Las tareas del hogar siguen siendo interminables no porque no hubiera medios en casa sino porque se aisló a la persona encargada de hacerlas ( selma james ). Con estas nuevas tecnologías incrementaron los estándares de lo socialmente aceptable ( limpieza de la casa, alimentación , cuidados ..), la cuestión quizás no es acabar con ellos si no entender que son imposiciones sociales.
Los autores hacen un recorrido también por el concepto de familia y el uso de los espacios comunes, con una idea que me parece esencial que es la de revocar el concepto de familia nuclear, de no penalizar otros modelos de familia y de ampliar y reconocer que pueden existir otras formas dentro del colectivo de los cuidados . También establecer una serie de infraestructuras públicas para colectivizar parte del trabajo doméstico. No se trata de que no cocinemos o tengamos un huerto o deleguemos el cuidados de los hijes se trata de que estas actividades se puedan elegir en mayor o menor medida de manera autómata y son sean una cuestión de supervivencia.
April 14, 2025
fantástico
August 26, 2025
Mucho texto para llegar a una conclusión a la que se podría haber arrivado sin tanto biri biri.
Me llama la atención cómo a los académicos nos encanta referenciar cada oración que escribimos
Me llama la atención cómo a los académicos nos encanta referenciar cada oración que escribimos
March 31, 2024
Semplicemente illuminante, uno di quei libri che ti capitano sottomano quasi per caso e ti cambiano la concezione della vita sotto molti aspetti.
February 27, 2025
Bela kevin book club
I liked it — if not to be a bit rosy eyed at the end what’s the point of proselytizing?
I liked it — if not to be a bit rosy eyed at the end what’s the point of proselytizing?
Read
September 17, 2023“We are now in a better position to describe the project of post-work. The goal is to reduce necessary labour (or 'work') as much as possible while expanding freedom (or ‘free activity') as much as possible. This might occur through the technological reduction of work, the sharing of burdens, or the management of expectations, but also through transforming our relationship to the activities we undertake. In a post-work world, the burdensome work of social reproduction would be minimized, while the pleasurable aspects could become the focus of more freely chosen commitments. At the moment, we tend to have the opposite situation - we sit children in front of televisions so that we can cook functional meals to scarf down among a hectic schedule of other obligations. We can do better.”
*deep sigh*
Won’t be able to stop thinking about how much unnecessary work is created because we have single family homes instead of communal resources AND how much of that unnecessary work falls on women
*deep sigh*
Won’t be able to stop thinking about how much unnecessary work is created because we have single family homes instead of communal resources AND how much of that unnecessary work falls on women
April 13, 2025
Meticulously researched meditations on labour and the sociopolitical reasons why it always feels like there is more to do! Presented compelling arguments for more communal living as a means of increasing free time for all.
Loved the anecdote at the end about Frances Gabe and her plastic-coated self-cleaning house. 4 stars!
Loved the anecdote at the end about Frances Gabe and her plastic-coated self-cleaning house. 4 stars!
April 20, 2025
Renta básica universal para todas.
May 11, 2024
Un buen marco general sobre el post-trabajo desde una perspectiva de los cuidados / la reproducción social. Tiene una buena introducción y un excelente capítulo sobre los diseños de vida comunitaria; el resto, bastante trillado.
July 6, 2024
Molt interessant, es fa curt :(
May 4, 2024
Las piscinas públicas: el punto de partida de la felicidad comunista.
May 16, 2024
Cuidado comunal, lujo público y soberanía temporal.
August 16, 2024
Taká silná 3, možno ešte zmením. Historický kontext super, synteza a odporúčania do budúcna už trochu viac stretchy a imo argumentačne deravé.
February 2, 2025
Ensayo que reflexiona acerca de nuestra relación con el tiempo después del trabajo, el impacto que tiene el ritmo de vida “rápido” y “de consumo insustancial”, y cómo eso afecta en nuestra calidad de vida. La obra orbita alrededor de las diferentes problemáticas del régimen capitalista potenciado que vivimos en nuestros días, y de diferentes iniciativas exitosas (y fallidas) que se han intentado a lo largo de la historia para intentar derribar ese muro de insatisfacción.
Personalmente es una obra densa, más para estudio académico que para consumo personal en mi caso, pero deja interesantes reflexiones sobre cómo podríamos hacer un mundo mejor, con más tiempo de calidad para todos (aboliendo incluso el concepto de familia hetenormativa como núcleo de la vida comunitaria en sí misma) y donde el trabajo de cuidados (que tan pesado y mal repartido está ahora) fuese una tarea más llevadera. Es difícil imaginar un mundo donde esto funcione, pero sin duda este libro invita a pensar que con una colaboración conjunta nos llevaría a tener una mejor calidad de vida para todos, y no solo para unos pocos.
Personalmente es una obra densa, más para estudio académico que para consumo personal en mi caso, pero deja interesantes reflexiones sobre cómo podríamos hacer un mundo mejor, con más tiempo de calidad para todos (aboliendo incluso el concepto de familia hetenormativa como núcleo de la vida comunitaria en sí misma) y donde el trabajo de cuidados (que tan pesado y mal repartido está ahora) fuese una tarea más llevadera. Es difícil imaginar un mundo donde esto funcione, pero sin duda este libro invita a pensar que con una colaboración conjunta nos llevaría a tener una mejor calidad de vida para todos, y no solo para unos pocos.
August 25, 2023
An interesting, well-argued premise that will change the way one thinks about technology and gender.
October 16, 2023
Short, provocative, somewhat radical treatise on how societies can support freedom and flourishing by collectivizing the mundane tasks now done almost exclusively in the private sphere.
June 6, 2024
Goog book. Interessanting!. The fight against unequality continues!
March 1, 2025
Had some interesting points but then my sociology class kicked into high gear and I got kind of tired of reading sociological writing for fun
March 20, 2025
Review to come on StoryGraph!
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