The Working Time Directive: sole jewel in the EU's plastic crown

Normally my views on EU directives are firmly in line with Daily Telegraph orthodoxy: they’re ill thought through, have no democratic mandate, are contrary to the EU principle of subsidiarity, and certain countries (we all know which) don’t obey them. But one which I have always excepted, and which I see as a shining light in the impenetrable fog of Brussels obscurantism, is the Working Time Directive, otherwise known as the 48-hour week.

It’s easy to see why it has to be an EU directive. Personally, I think it’s the sort of law any proper Labour Government should have passed in its first week: but then we’d have heard all the usual wittering about competitiveness. Much better to coordinate it with all our main competitors. (And no, our direct competitors in the field of labour conditions do not include India and China.) You may think what you like about the Franco-German short working weeks: it’s still embarrassing to admit that, while their institutions are arguing about 36 or 38 or 39 hours, ours are still reluctant to concede 48.

It’s not just a piece of socialist legislation; it fits perfectly with elements of the Cameroon programme. Strengthening the family, for instance; how better to achieve that than by at least ensuring that the family can be given top priority after 6 p.m.? And the work of the voluntary sector, community life, Burke’s “little platoons”; in practice it’s always been the middle class that has led this sort of thing, and these elements can never flourish while the middle class is in the office till half past eight. And the effects on gender equality are too obvious to need pointing out.

“Yes, but it’s the compulsion I don’t like.” Fair enough point; but there are times when a law can free people up to do the thing they really want. Take seat belts. When I was young, in the pre-compulsory days, I didn’t drive, but was often a passenger in a friend’s car. In this situation putting on one’s seat belt was regarded as the action of a wimp, and was sometimes even interpreted as an insult. Thank God that, for my children’s generation, it’s just something you have to do.

When workers have the “choice to work as long as they want”, it means that the person who goes home at 5.30 is making a clear statement that their home life is, at least in evenings, more important to them than work. Now of course this is the default position of any sane person, but I can see why one might not want to rub it under one’s boss’s nose. Much better to have everyone going home early as a matter of course. As a middle manager in the Foreign Office, my voice was often heard resounding down the corridors at 5.55: “Come on, haven’t you people got pubs to go to?” (My hero was Douglas Hurd, who firmly refused to accept any papers after 5 pm.)

But what about productivity and getting the job done? Well, it’s already established that we Brits work the longest hours in Europe and our productivity is pretty ropey. In my view that’s because nobody can really work twelve-hour days at full capacity. As for the NHS, who wants to be treated by a doctor who hasn’t slept for three nights?

It’s also generally agreed that most businesses were far less efficient 20-30 years ago because they failed to impose proper controls on costs. We have learnt to manage our resources much better now. The WTD could have the same effect on staff time, also a finite resource. Centuries are wasted every day in our economy because time is not used properly, and it isn’t used properly because everyone treats it as a cost-free good. If every one of your staff was working eight hours a day and not a minute more, you’d make sure that time was used efficiently. I’ve seen too many people mooching around aimlessly in the afternoon and balancing it by spurts of energy at seven-thirty to be at all impressed. (Oh, sorry, I forgot: bosses like to be able to rule by fear, checking what time you go home and uttering snide comments. Having all this arbitrary power is an important part of their motivation. Don’t think it adds much to the bottom line, though.)

I heard, though this may be apocryphal, that in the brave days of the French 35-hour week the relevant Ministry used to send enforcement officers round in vans to look for lights in office buildings after 6 pm and investigate. Se non è vero, è ben trovato. The French get some things right. Haven’t these people got pubs to go to?