a year ago, i negotiated a 4 day week – here's what i've learned

burnout's down, revenue's up. can the results of the UK's four-day week pilot change the world of work as we know it?

Photo by Pawel Chu on Unsplash.

Earlier today, the world’s biggest trial of a four day working week was declared a success. The trial was organised by The 4 Day Week Campaign, an independent organisation that’s been campaigning across the UK for a four day, 32 hour working week with no loss of pay for workers.

And the results are now in. Of the 61 companies that took part, 92% of them have now said they’re continuing with their four-day week – thanks to a 71% reduction in burnout, a 65% decrease in sick days and a 1.4% increase in revenue. Levels of anxiety, fatigue and sleep issues decreased, while mental and physical health improved. And, perhaps unsurprisingly, employees in the trial reported finding it easier to balance their work with their family and social commitments, and against household jobs and relationships, too. How’s that for a good result?

For the last year, I’ve been on my own four day working week trial. By day, I’m a head of brand + creative and a writer – specialising in building direct-to-consumer brands (especially the ones on subscription). I’ve help to build brands from scratch, helped old brands tell new stories and worked on global campaigns at big ad agencies. I care deeply about the stories I tell, and I bring everything I have to every work day I work. To put it simply: I completely love what I do.

But in 2021, after spending nearly two years building and launching a brand from scratch, working all hours of the days, nights and weekends to bring the brand’s vision to life – I simply couldn't give my all, all of the time anymore and hit a brick wall with what I now know to be burnout. I hear you, Jacinda Arden and Nicola Sturgeon – sometimes we really don’t have the energy in the tank to actually do it all.

And so I left the job to go freelance, desperate for flexibility, variety and creative freedom. But then, four months in, my favourite clients asked me if I'd join them in-house. Usually, I’d have said yes without hesitation. I’d fallen in love with the brand, the product and the team – but I knew I couldn’t give up the freedom and flexibility I’d worked so hard to create in my newly-discovered freelance life. Eventually, after weeks of debating it with close friends and family, I said yes – but only on the condition that I could work a four day week.

Since then, I haven’t looked back. Although I lose 1/5th of my salary, there is no amount of money you could pay me to give up the benefits I gain in both my personal and work life. That is what’s really of true value to me.

Over the last year, I’ve spent those Fridays off in a variety of ways. I’ve freelanced for other brands, written for magazines, worked on my novel, launched this newsletter, spent time with my family, extended a weekend away, sorted out endless life admin, visited interesting art exhibitions, met friends for long lunches, surfed in West Wales – and so much more. I have also spent a lot of those Fridays in my pyjamas, re-watching old Sex And The City episodes and eating crisp sandwiches. It’s called balance, look it up.

The sea looking particularly inviting one Friday in the Gower, Wales.

I’ve found that with more time to fully rest, recover and take time and headspace away from my job, I am infinitely better at it. I open my laptop on a Monday morning and I’m raring to go – packed with new ideas and different thoughts after three days away. As a creative person, I fully believe that variety is the spice of life essential to discovering good, fresh ideas (there’s a reason you’ll often switch from one brand to another at an advertising agency) that resonate with real people in the real world.

What I hadn’t expected, though, were the reactions to my four-day working week move. A lot of people assume that I have children (I don’t), or that I’m at least thinking about it (I’m not). Others have assumed that I’m giving up any ambition I once had (I’m not) and swapping the hustle and grind we’re supposed to be addicted to in our twenties and thirties for an easier life (imagine). A man I used to work with asked, ‘But aren’t you hungry anymore?’. I told him that yes, of course I’m still hungry – it’s just that now, I’d rather enjoy all the flavours of tasting menu in measured portions at a slower pace, rather than intense two-hour bottomless brunch that leaves me unable to move for the rest of the day.

Of course, the tasting menu isn’t always perfect. There are times when I’m needed to review something, work on a last minute project or attend a shoot on my day off. Supporting my team is a huge part of my job so when they need me, I’m there. But my time is always given back to me, and this year has been a huge eye-opener for me to a new world of boundaries. And as a recovering people pleaser who has historically said yes to absolutely everything in order to prove herself – it’s been a total game changer for how I see my value. Doing a good job isn’t about the quantity of time you spend at work, it’s about the quality of your time you can give. But really, without the quantity of time spent recovering from the demands of work, you’re simply just going to have far less quality to give.

So let’s see, shall we? Maybe these results will encourage more employers to truly consider moving to a world of work where we decrease our attitudes towards living to work, rather than working to live, and as a result increase our productivity, output and overall happiness.