Young Europeans, Work and Family (Routledge Esa Studies in European Societies)

Young Europeans, Work and Family

Routledge/European Sociological Association Studies in European Societies Series editors: Thomas P. Boje, Max Haller, Martin Kohli and Alison Woodward

1 European Societies Fusion or fission? Edited by Thomas P. Boje, Bart van Steebergen and Sylvia Walby 2 The Myth of Generational Conflict The family and state in ageing societies Edited by Sara Arber and Claudine Attias-Donfut 3 The End of the Welfare State? Responses to state retrenchment Edited by Peter Taylor-Gooby and Stefan Svallfors 4 Will Europe Work? Integration, employment and the social order Edited by Martin Kohli and Mojca Novak 5 Inclusions and Exclusions in European Societies Edited by Martin Kohli and Alison Woodward 6 Young Europeans, Work and Family Futures in transition Edited by Julia Brannen, Suzan Lewis, Ann Nilsen and Janet Smithson

Young Europeans, Work and Family Futures in transition

Edited by Julia Brannen, Suzan Lewis, Ann Nilsen and Janet Smithson

London and New York

To our children

First published 2002 by Routledge 11 New Fetter Lane, London EC4P 4EE Simultaneously published in the USA and Canada by Routledge 29 West 35th Street, New York, NY 10001 Routledge is an imprint of the Taylor & Francis Group This edition published in the Taylor & Francis e-Library, 2002. Selection and editorial matter © 2002 Julia Brannen, Suzan Lewis, Ann Nilsen and Janet Smithson; individual chapters © the contributors All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publishers. British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data Young Europeans, work and family: futures in transition/edited by Julia Brannen [et al.]. p. cm — (Routledge/ESA studies in European societies) Includes bibliographical references and index 1. Young adults–Europe–Attitudes. 2. Work and family–Europe. 3. Europe–Social conditions–21st century. I. Brannen, Julia. II. Series. HQ799.8E9 Y68 2001 305.242′094—dc21 2001041602 ISBN 0–415–24846–9 (Print Edition) ISBN 0-203-47185-7 Master e-book ISBN

ISBN 0-203-78009-4 (Adobe eReader Format)

Contents

Notes on contributors Acknowledgements 1

Introduction

vii ix 1

JULIA BRANNEN, SUZAN LEWIS, ANN NILSEN AND JANET SMITHSON

2

Qualitative methodology in cross-national research

11

JANET SMITHSON AND JULIA BRANNEN

3

Theorising the individual–structure dynamic

30

ANN NILSEN AND JULIA BRANNEN

4

Young people’s perspectives on the future

48

JULIA BRANNEN AND ANN NILSEN

5

Into work: job insecurity and changing psychological contracts

69

SUZAN LEWIS, JANET SMITHSON AND CLARISSA KUGELBERG

6

Young people’s awareness of gendered realities

89

PAT O’CONNOR, JANET SMITHSON AND MARIA DAS DORES GUERREIRO

7

Imagining parenthood and employment: connected or disconnected worlds? JULIA BRANNEN, CLARISSA KUGELBERG, MARIA DAS DORES GUERREIRO AND JANET SMITHSON

116

vi Contents 8

Into parenthood: young people’s sense of entitlement to support for the reconciliation of employment and family life

140

SUZAN LEWIS, JANET SMITHSON AND MARIA DAS DORES GUERREIRO

9

‘Most choices involve money’: different pathways to adulthood

162

ANN NILSEN, MARIA DAS DORES GUERREIRO AND JULIA BRANNEN

Appendix I: Tables Appendix II: Focus-group guidelines Index

185 189 193

Contributors

Julia Brannen is Professor in the Sociology of the Family at Thomas Coram Research Unit, Institute of Education, University of London. She has written and researched in the following areas: gender, families with young people and children, resources in households, the interface between the labour market and family life. She is co-founder and co-editor of the International Journal of Social Research Methodology: Theory and Practice. Her most recent book is Connecting Children: Care and Family Life in Later Childhood (RoutledgeFalmer, 2000). Maria das Dores Guerreiro is a Senior Lecturer in the Department of Sociology at the Instituto Superior de Ciências do Trabalho e da Empresa (ISTCE), Lisbon, and a researcher at CIES. She is Vice-President of the Portuguese Sociological Association and Editor of the journal Sociologia, Problemas e Práticas. Her research interest areas are in the sociology of the family, gender, family and work relations, generations and social policy. She is author or coauthor of several publications on these subjects, including Famílias na Actividade Empresarial (1996), Trabalho, Família e Gerações: Conciliação e Solidariedades (1998) and Mulheres na Vida Empresarial (1998). Clarissa Kugelberg is a Cultural Anthropologist and Associate Professor in Sociology at the Institute for Housing and Urban Research, University of Uppsala, Sweden. Her research interests and areas of publication include family and working life, children and childhood, welfare states and gender and anthropological method. Her most recent book is Perceiving Motherhood and Fatherhood. Swedish Working Parents with Young Children (1999). Her current project is a review of parents and family policy in Sweden in the 1940s–50s. Suzan Lewis is Professor of Organisational and Work–Life Psychology at Manchester Metropolitan University and a Visiting Professor at the School of Management, University of Manchester Institute of Science and Technology (UMIST). Her current research interests are in workplace culture, flexibility and change and the impact of the changing nature of work on families. She is co-founder and co-editor of the journal Community Work and Family. Previous books include The Work–Family Challenge: Rethinking Employment, with Jeremy Lewis. She was co-coordinator of the EU project on which this book is based.

viii Contributors Ann Nilsen is Professor of Sociology at the University of Bergen, Norway. She has written and researched on life-course sociology, biographical research, methodological issues, gender studies and environmental sociology. She is coeditor of Journal of Sociology (Sosiologisk tidsskrift). Pat O’Connor is Professor of Sociology and Social Policy, and Dean of the College of Humanities, at the University of Limerick in Ireland. Her research interests include the sociology of contemporary Irish society, gendered borders in organisations and in society, organisational culture, equality and diversity, identity, masculinities, children and childhood, informal support and the state/family interface. In 1992 her Friendships Between Women was nominated by Choice as an outstanding academic book and, in 1998, her Emerging Voices: Women in Contemporary Irish Society was nominated for the Irish Times Literary Awards (Academic Section). Janet Smithson is a Research Fellow in the Department of Psychology and Speech Pathology at Manchester Metropolitan University and was the Project Manager for the cross-national project on which this book is based. Her research interests are in work and family and discourses of gender.

Acknowledgements

We would like to acknowledge all the young people who participated in the research as well as all those who helped in the setting up and moderating of the focus groups. Sue Musson of Manchester Training and Enterprise Council and Nevenka Cernigoj Sadar of the University of Ljubljana provided valuable support in numerous ways. We also acknowledge our funders: the European Commission (DGV), the British Council, HSBC Bank, the Royal Irish Academy’s National Committee for Economics and Social Sciences, the Faculty of the Social Sciences, University of Bergen, the Norwegian Research Council and our respective universities. Hospitality and support for research meetings was provided by the Instituto Superior de Ciências do Trabalho e da Empresa (ISTCE), Lisbon, the University of Bergen and the Bratislava Centre for Family Studies, Slovakia, Thomas Coram Research Unit (Institute of Education, London University) and Manchester Metropolitan University.

Introduction 1

1

Introduction Julia Brannen, Suzan Lewis, Ann Nilsen and Janet Smithson

Research contexts and paradigms The research on which the book is based is a cross-national study of young people’s orientations to their future work and family lives. It was carried out by an international multi-disciplinary team from Ireland, Norway, Portugal, Sweden and the UK. The research was undertaken in different phases over a five-year period from the autumn of 1996. Several factors have shaped the focus, design and process of the study. The result is, in many ways, surprising. First, a study that started out as action-oriented has paradoxically resulted in a strong theoretical focus driven by a common set of core concerns on the part of all members of the team, regardless of their epistemological and theoretical allegiances as they derive from their disciplinary bases. This is the result of a fiveyear research process, during which time our collaboration has developed ideas and perspectives that we did not anticipate would become relevant in the project. The research questions we started out with changed throughout this process and the themes we focus on in this book reflect this shift both theoretically and empirically. Second, its cross-national design represents a departure from dominant models of cross-national research in that we have not carried out large-scale statistical reviews or questionnaire surveys; rather we have attempted the difficult feat of working with a qualitative approach within a cross-national context. This has been a challenge in many ways, but working with data which are not the standard fare in this kind of research has been highly rewarding. It has given insights which surveys could not provide. Third, the research team emanated from a variety of disciplinary homelands and comprised seven women academics: four sociologists, two psychologists and one social anthropologist. The written results are not the typical products of much cross-national research; we have not produced the standard set of singlecountry reports. Despite our disciplinary differences, much of our writing has been collaborative and the authorship of the chapters of the book in many cases also crosses disciplines. To some extent the reason for this may lie in a common political concern with social inequality issues in general, and with justice and gender transformation in particular. All of us had previously used qualitative

2 Julia Brannen, Suzan Lewis, Ann Nilsen and Janet Smithson research approaches in our studies, though not exclusively. But there are other reasons too, for example relating to the history of our relationships with one another and the impact of the process of working together on the study. The explicit aims of the study, as set out in the original research proposal, relate to the policy concerns of the core funder (the European Commission, DGV, Equal Opportunities Unit) and the type of research that they sought to commission. Specifically we addressed the key EU policy concern of the ‘reconciliation of employment and family life’ in the context of the ‘action framework for equal opportunities for women and men’. The initial proposal was written by two of the three members of the UK team, and reflected discussions held within a wider European network about the potential implications of new forms of work and employment for the reconciliation of paid work and family. Our main aim was to understand the ways in which young people entering the labour market in the changing world of employment in the late 1990s saw themselves as managing employment and parenthood in the future and the types of support they desired and thought would be available to them. This set of issues had not yet been examined by researchers, neither by those in the fields of employment and family life nor in the youth field. Given that the funder required that the insights generated by the study be fed back to young people and those involved with young people – employers, trainers, policy-makers and practitioners – we built an action component into the research proposal. Moreover, we were committed both to understanding young people’s orientations to work and family life and also to ensuring that young people benefited from these research insights. However, the project was not action research in the participatory sense, whereby the people studied contribute to the study design and data analysis. Such an approach would not have been feasible within the practical constraints of the project nor would all members of the team have wanted to work in this way. The action aspect of the study focused on the ideal of developing good practice and a critical approach to the research questions and the research methods (Banister et al., 1994). We tried to feed back the research findings where possible to the young people who participated in the study, as they were presented in initial reports and articles, a method which facilitates ‘respondent validation’ and ‘authenticity’ (Yin, 1994). However, this was done to varying degrees in the participating countries. Since the two Scandinavian partners joined the project with their own separate studies that were already under way, the action aspect has not been an equally important concern in these countries. These research projects added to the initial study by their wider theoretical concerns and research focus, and thus contributed positively to the direction this study took over its different phases. The action-oriented aspect of the study had implications for the conduct of the research, especially in the earlier phases up to the launch of the report Futures on Hold (Lewis et al., 1998). However, while being driven by a set of practical requirements to disseminate our ‘findings’ to employers, policy-makers, young people and the press in the different countries, this served in some ways to strengthen our resolve to retain an interest in the key theoretical issues raised by

Introduction 3 the study. The life course became an overarching perspective and the theoretical considerations that derived from this involved a discussion of the theory of individualisation, debates about ‘the psychological contract’ and ‘sense of entitlement’, the concept of time and the need to reconceptualise adulthood and what it means to be a young woman or man. These theoretical concerns and their relation to disciplinary bases and epistemological concerns are discussed in Chapter 3, but this analytical focus also permeates all the chapters in this book. As the research contractor, the European Commission put considerable effort into measuring the success of the projects in the programme. Key criteria of success included the amount of media attention generated by the project, the number of talks given to ‘users’ of the research and articles in non-academic journals. The nature of this productivity contrasted with that required under the criteria for academic success which members of the team were simultaneously under pressure to fulfil, namely the production of articles in refereed journals, books and academic conference presentations. While we tried to meet both sets of productivity criteria – both those of academe and those of the funding body – the team members faced competing demands. This book is therefore the result of a process with many facets and phases. Despite these tensions, the two processes, and the insights gained while pursuing each agenda, have fed into each other. The various national contexts form the backcloth against which the life courses of individuals evolve and perceptions about the future are formed. The individual–structure dynamic that is crucial for both interpretations and understanding of experience at the individual level makes it necessary to outline some aspects of the institutional features of each country. Even if our data concern young people’s expectations about what life as adults will be like, these expectations are formed in the contexts of the everyday lives young people live in the present, and their experiences are embedded in national institutional frameworks. For example, their attitudes to the questions of if and when to start a family are formed on the basis of the lives of those around them. Similarly, the opportunities they have to realise plans for education and employment are dependent on the resources available, either from family or from the welfare state. As we argue elsewhere (Chapters 3, 4 and 9), some of the institutional background for the development of the life course may or may not be explicitly taken into account by young people. Rather, discourses around welfare states are ‘silent discourses’ concerning the taken-for-granted aspects of life. A large number of our informants were recruited via educational institutions at different levels. The lengthening of the youth phase in the life course is related to the longer time spent in education and training, as the labour market demands more graduates and greater flexibility in its qualifications. Rates of unemployment, qualifications required for jobs in various sectors and employer–employee relationships are also relevant themes in our discussion. Of particular interest are the differences in welfare-state regimes. This has been a focus of much cross-national research, but it has also been a theme in itself for cross-national comparison (Esping-Andersen, 1999). For our purposes this discussion is confined to looking at aspects that affect the young people’s

4 Julia Brannen, Suzan Lewis, Ann Nilsen and Janet Smithson attitudes and expectations of the future when they may combine parenting and waged work. Thus issues such as national variations in rights to paid parental leave, childcare facilities etc. are important from the viewpoint of our informants. Of the five countries involved in this study, Norway and Sweden have strong welfare states that still provide a security net for the citizens which can be deemed relatively generous compared to, for instance, Portugal and Ireland, who have less developed welfare-state regimes. The welfare state in the UK has been undergoing considerable change but remains closest to a liberal regime, relying on market forces and the role of the state as a last resort. Generational trends and the lengthening of the youth phase As people live longer and fertility falls, young people are a declining proportion of the population across Europe (European Commission, 1997). However, there are some important differences across the five countries in the cohort of young people who were the focus of the study. In Ireland and Portugal the demographic pyramid conforms to its name, with a wide band of young people in the cohort aged 15–25; that is when they are compared with older cohorts. In the other three countries the age groups in our study belong to relatively smaller cohorts as the decline in the birth rate occurred in the late 1960s in these countries. Yet the cohorts of young people are comparable in all the countries. In the UK, Sweden and Norway the overall demographic trend is for elderly people to live longer, thus forming an increasingly high proportion of the population compared with young people. While the number of young people in most of the countries is falling disproportionately compared with older cohorts, at the same time the ‘youth phase’ of the life course between childhood and adulthood is lasting longer. During the 1990s there was a decline among those in work and a rise among those in education and training (European Commission, 1997). In all countries there has been pressure for a more highly trained workforce. Young people stay in education and training for extended periods and are increasingly likely to complete upper secondary education. This trend has started relatively recently in Southern Europe, including Portugal, while rates for the Scandinavian countries have been high for some considerable time. One of the most remarkable features of these cross-national trends is the closure of the gender gap. More young women than young men are now staying on in education and training. At school, young women are performing better than young men, although segregation by subject persists which has implications for how young men and women later fare in the labour market (Rubery et al., 1996). Moreover, this trend is apparent if we take level of educational attainment into account (Table 1 presents figures for 1995; the gap is likely to have closed even further since then). All tables referred to in this chapter are located in Appendix I. However, there remain sharp differences among the countries in terms of the proportions of young people who continue in education and training beyond

Introduction 5 the minimum school-leaving age, albeit that in all countries these rates have risen. The figures for the year 2000 for Norway and Sweden for young people in training or education at the age of 18 are around 90 per cent and 73 per cent, while for Ireland, the UK and Portugal they are only 50 and 56 per cent respectively. Moreover, when we examine the level of education attained (aged 25–9), we see a different pattern of variation. In Portugal, a much higher proportion of young men and women reach low levels of attainment compared with other countries (Table 1). At the other end of the attainment spectrum, Sweden has more young men and women achieving at high levels (27 per cent of men and 31 per cent of women) as compared with only 13 per cent of Portuguese women and 11 per cent of Portuguese men (Table 1). The UK and Ireland come somewhere in the middle, with around one half of young people with low levels of attainment and a split between high and low levels among the other half. Education after compulsory schooling is dependent upon the means for financing it. In the Scandinavian countries over the post-war period, measures have been taken to democratise access to higher education. State-subsidised student loans and grants make it possible for young people to study without being directly dependent upon family resources. In spite of this, however, the patterns of social inequality persist even here, despite a higher percentage of students of working-class background at university level. At the other end of the spectrum is Portugal, where opportunities for university studies are very slim for young people without a family to support them financially through their university studies. We address these issues in more detail in Chapter 9. While economic transitions are key to the attainment of full adult status, domestic transitions are also important and involve an underlying shift in responsibilities: from being the responsibility of parents to taking responsibility for self and others. This protracted limbo between childhood and adulthood involves becoming economically independent of parents, to reliance either on the state and/or upon borrowed money, for example student loans. Nowadays almost two-thirds (65 per cent) of young Europeans aged 20–4 live with their parents; in the older age group (25–9 years) young people are much less likely to live with parents, especially in the UK and in Scandinavian countries and to a lesser extent in Portugal and Ireland (European Commission, 1997). Young women tend to leave home earlier than young men. But, as comparative data show, there remains very considerable variation across the different countries. At one extreme Portugal has very few young people living in an intermediate family form – single but living away from parents, with most 25- to 29-year-olds married with children or still living at home. Ireland has a similar ‘traditional’ pattern to Portugal albeit with rather more young Irish people living in an intermediate family form. The UK has a different pattern, with most young people concentrated in the intermediate group (ISER, 2000/1). A Norwegian study shows that in the age group 20–24 in 1995, 42 per cent of the men lived with parents, compared to only 21 per cent of the women (Roalsø, 1997). This overall European trend of moving out of the parental home at an earlier age was

6 Julia Brannen, Suzan Lewis, Ann Nilsen and Janet Smithson on the whole complicated by a rise in unemployment rates and the shifting conditions of the housing market. Especially during the late 1980s and early 1990s, the situation in the UK made it difficult for young people to set up a separate household, since the unemployment rate in this age group was high and the housing market tight ( Jones and Wallace, 1992). Employment trends Young people’s employment rates are shaped not only by the extension of education and training into the period of the life course termed ‘youth’. Other more fundamental economic changes have marked the period as well: the increase in labour-market flexibility, and the restructuring of welfare states, with greater responsibility placed on the individual. These trends, together with the increased instability of family life, all mean that the future for young people is filled with risk and uncertainty. However, these trends are more pronounced in some countries than others and they affect specific groups of young people differently. Unemployment has risen across the European Union in the first half of the 1990s. Those most likely to be unemployed are young people (Tables 2 and 3). Almost five million of the 18 million unemployed in Europe are under 25, with the proportion unchanged between 1990 and 1995 (European Commission, 1997). Unemployment is significantly higher among those in the 25–9 age group with only compulsory schooling and upper secondary school education. In 1995 Ireland had particularly high unemployment rates among the 15- to 24-year-olds closely followed by Sweden. However, unemployment is often hidden through the inflation in numbers of young people on training programmes, and is subject to upturns and downturns in the economy (Table 3 shows the falling figures between 1995 and 1999). The gaps in unemployment rates between young men and women are also considerable. In Sweden and the UK, more young men are unemployed while in Portugal more young women are unemployed. In Ireland, more young men than young women under 25 are unemployed while the opposite is the case for the over 25s (European Commission, 1997). As we discuss in Chapter 9, there are major differences among some countries in welfare provision for the unemployed, notably between the Scandinavian countries and Portugal. The last part of the twentieth century has seen a transformation in the very nature of work, particularly in the Western Hemisphere. Globalisation, the restructuring of the labour market and organisational change, technological development, and the growth of the information society are revolutionising the world of work. Along with new forms of employment and occupations, large swathes of traditional employment are also in the ascendant, notably the service industries and the care-workforce, albeit often with more fractured employment relationships. While at the aggregate level in some countries there appears to be no great increase in fixed-term and temporary employment contracts, notably in the UK (Gallie, 2001) (see also Table 4), young people are among those most affected. As we discuss in Chapter 5, in all the countries those under 25 are highly likely to

Introduction 7 be employed on a temporary contract compared with all employees (Table 5). The proportion of those in temporary employment, moreover, is higher among younger age groups in all countries (Table 6). Trends in family form and family formation In this book we are concerned with how young people view their futures as partners and parents. However, family life and family formation are themselves in the process of change. Marriages and relationships are not necessarily for life, which makes family forms more diverse, both cross-sectionally and over the life course. From the 1970s to the late 1990s, marriage rates fell in all five countries, while divorce rates rose (no data are available for divorce in Ireland since it was not then legal (Table 7). However, single parenthood, living as a single person or with friends, living in same-sex relationships, step-parenthood and child-free relationships remain much more common in some countries than others (Hantrais, 1999). The overall decline in the frequency of marriage has been accompanied by an increase in age at first marriage (Table 8). Although the age gap has closed slightly, women continue to marry earlier then men, with Portugal recording the lowest age for women and Swedes postponing marriage to the latest age (see also Hantrais, 1999: 21). As marriage rates have fallen, consensual unions have become more widespread; whatever data sources are used, unmarried cohabitation has developed farthest in the Scandinavian countries, with no statistics on this collected in Ireland until 1996 (3.9 per cent of all family units) (Hantrais, 1999). European women are having fewer children and are having them later in life. In the period from 1990 to 1997 fertility rates fell in all five countries, with the most dramatic fall occurring in Sweden. However, comparing the experiences of the current generation of parents with those of the last generation, the fall in the Portuguese fertility rate is the most striking. In all five countries the rates are below replacement in 1997, with Ireland reaching subfertility in 1991 for the first time in recorded history (Table 9). Moreover, the mean age at childbirth of mothers rose steadily from the 1970s to the 1990s (Eurostat, 2000). Similarly, the mean age at first birth has also risen from the 1970s, with the lowest ages reported for Portugal, followed by the UK. Teenage births remain very high in Portugal (Hantrais, 1999). Estimates of lone parenthood for the early 1990s suggest that 21 per cent of all mothers with a child under 18 in the UK and Norway are lone mothers. This is the highest rate of lone parenthood in Europe, followed closely by Sweden (18 per cent) and then by Portugal at 13 per cent, with Ireland lowest (11 per cent) (Millar and Warman, 1996). Trends in employment and family life Employment trends need to be considered against the backdrop of economic growth. While Norway’s economy has continued to flourish because of North

8 Julia Brannen, Suzan Lewis, Ann Nilsen and Janet Smithson Sea oil, Sweden’s economy was in recession at the time of the study with a sharp rise in unemployment from 1991–2 (although the situation has improved since the time of the study). Ireland has the highest economic growth rate in Europe, albeit starting from a low base, while the UK economy continues to suffer from low investment in manufacturing but has experienced a significant fall in unemployment in recent years. After the economic turbulence of the 1980s, Portugal’s economy grew during the 1990s and has now stabilised. However, a country’s stage of economic development does not necessarily match the priority it gives to ending either social inequalities or inequalities between men and women. The second half of the twentieth century has been marked by enormous changes in the lives of women, especially mothers. Women are tending to stay in the labour market when they become parents, and to have shorter breaks from employment, while in some countries women maintain continuous employment records over the life course (Rubery, Smith and Fagan, 1996). However, as we discuss in Chapters 7 and 8, the integration of mothers into the labour market has occurred at different times and in very different social and economic conditions. They are also supported, or not, by very different public policies. It seems likely that young people’s future lives as workers and carers may be different from those of today’s parents, although the patterns of today’s parents constitute an important part of the current context in which young people think about their future lives. Mothers’ employment rates vary considerably in the critical period when children are very young. Employment rates for mothers of young children have shown most rapid recent change in the UK and in Ireland. Both countries started from a very low base in the employment of mothers of very young children. Maternal employment is highest in Sweden and Norway, and almost as high in Portugal (Table 10). Mothers are much more likely to work full-time in Portugal, while part-time employment is very common for mothers in Sweden, Norway and the UK. Part-time employed mothers in Sweden and Norway work longer hours than in the UK. Average weekly hours for mothers are particularly low in the UK due to high levels of part-time employment and to very short hours, while mothers’ hours of work are highest in Portugal (Deven et al., 1998). There remains much less variability in fathers’ employment across countries, although fathers in Portugal and the UK work particularly long hours. Childcare support for working parents: state, employers and family In the UK, Portugal and Ireland informal provision (family, relatives and friends) continues to be the main source of care for very young children while their parents are at work. Employer support is most discussed, if not provided, in the UK and is almost entirely absent from the public debate in Sweden and Norway, where publicly-funded services are the main providers of childcare. In Sweden in 1996, 57 per cent of children aged 1–2 years received some form

Introduction 9 of non-parental care and 76 per cent of children aged 3–6 years. In Norway, the situation is similar with 63 per cent of 3- to 6-year-olds accommodated in publicly subsidised services (Leira, 1996). In contrast, British and Portuguese employed mothers with young children still depend very largely upon informal care, typically the children’s grandmothers (Ministry do Trabalho e do Solidariedade, 2000). However, with the growth in full-time employment for mothers of young children in the UK and Portugal, the use of childcare provided by the private market is growing rapidly. Sweden and Norway provide considerable periods of paid parental leave for parents when children are young (which in Sweden can also be used flexibly and taken on a part-time basis even when children are over school age). (See Table 11 for an overview of maternity, paternity and parental leaves (1997–9) in the five countries.) Moreover, in order to encourage fathers to participate more in parental leave, the Nordic states have moved towards a model of parental leave in which one part is a family right (to be divided between parents as they choose) and another part which is an individual right and is not transferable. Unlike Sweden and Norway, Portugal, with the highest proportion of full-time employed mothers, has a much shorter period of paid maternity leave and unpaid parental leave. Britain and Ireland had paid maternity leave and were considering how to implement the European Directive on parental leave at the time of this study.

Overview of the book In this book we examine empirical data collected in the course of a crossnational study of young people’s orientations to the future, setting this within broader theoretical frameworks. Our methodology is introduced and discussed in Chapter 2, while Chapter 3 addresses the theoretical foundations of our thought and analysis. Chapter 4 is an empirical analysis of the time perspectives of different groups of young people. This generates a typology of different time orientations elaborated within a conceptual exploration of time. Chapter 5 is an exegesis of changing employment expectations of young people in the context of the restructuring of labour markets. Chapter 6 examines the ways in which young people talk about gender. Chapter 7 looks at the ways young people anticipate the future as partners, parents and employees: the extent to which they perceive it to be normatively acceptable and practically feasible to combine employment and family life. Chapter 8 examines how far young people perceive themselves as deserving or entitled to support from a range of public sources of support: the state, employers and trade unions. Chapter 9 focuses on pathways in the transition from youth to adulthood.

References Banister, P., Burman, E., Parker, I., Taylor, M. and Tindall, C. (1994) Qualitative Methods in Psychology: A Research Guide, Buckingham: Open University Press.

10 Julia Brannen, Suzan Lewis, Ann Nilsen and Janet Smithson Deven, F., Inglis, S., Moss, P. and Petrie, P. (1998) An Overview Study on the Reconciliation of Work and Family Life for Men and Women and the Quality of Care Services, London: Department for Education and Employment. Esping-Andersen, Gøsta (1999) Social Foundations of Postindustrial Economics, Oxford: Oxford University Press. European Commission (1997) Youth in the European Union: From Education to Working Life, Luxembourg: European Commission, Office for Official Publications of the European Communities, L–2985. European Commission (2000) Living Conditions in Europe: Statistical Pocketbook, Luxembourg: European Commission, Office for Official Publications of the European Communities. Eurostat (2000) Labour Force Survey, European Commission. Gallie, D. (2001) ‘The labour force’, in A. H. Halsey (ed.) with J. Webb, Twentieth-Century British Social Trends, Basingstoke: Macmillan. Hantrais, L. (1999) ‘Interactions between socio-demographic trends, social and economic policies’, Cross-national research papers, fifth series, Loughborough: The Crossnational Research Group. ISER (2000/1) Taking the Long View: The ISER Report 2000/1, Institute for Social and Economic Research, Colchester: University of Essex. Jones, G. and Wallace, C. (1992) Youth, Family and Citizenship, Buckingham: Open University Press. Kamerman, S. B. (2000) ‘Parental leave policies: an essential ingredient in early childhood education and care policies’, Social Policy Report, 14(2). Leira, A. (1996) Parents, Childcare and the State: Family Obligations in Norway, Oslo: Institute for Social Research. Lewis, S., Smithson, J., Brannen, J., das Dores Guerreiro, M., Kugelberg, C., Nilsen, A. and O’Connor, P. (1998) Futures on Hold: Young Europeans Talk about Work and Family, Manchester: IOD Research Group. Millar, J. and Warman, A. (1996) Family Obligations in Europe, London: Family Policy Studies Centre. Ministerio do Trabalho e da Solidariedade (2000). Roalsø, Kari-Mette (1997) Ungdoms levekår i 1990-årene, Oslo: Statistisk Sentralbyrå. Rubery, J., Smith, M. and Fagan, C. (1996) Trends and Prospects for Women’s Employment in the 1990s, Brussels: European Commission Equal Opportunities Unit. Yin, R. (1994) Case Study Research: Design and Methods, second edition, London: Sage.

Qualitative methodology in cross-national research

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Qualitative methodology in cross-national research Janet Smithson and Julia Brannen

Cross-national comparative research The terminology governing research which is cross-national is itself a topic for research. The term ‘cross-national’ is taken to refer to research that is descriptive and deductive, whereas comparative research is more analytical and establishes a relationship between micro- and macro-levels (Grootings, 1986, cited in Hantrais, 1999). However, the niceties of the terminological distinctions have not been greatly adhered to in the English-language research literature in which the term ‘cross’ is used ubiquitously (Oyen, 1990, cited in Hantrais, 1999). Rather, as Hantrais discusses, the issue to be considered should be less the ‘cross’ aspect of research, which compares two or more countries, and more the problematisation of the ‘national’ aspect of such research. The implication here is that it is important not to assume that, in focussing on the national level, national differences are necessarily more significant than other cross-cutting differences. Even given the European Union’s integrating influence over the countries included in this study, nations differ significantly, particularly with respect to family and social policies even as their labour markets and economies become more similar. In this study all five countries, though to a lesser extent Norway, hold a common reference point in terms of their membership of the European Union. At the same time, they exhibit cultural and social diversity since their legal, political, social and economic systems have different histories and frameworks (Hantrais, 1999). There are also cultural differences between them related to gender-role expectations. These differences crucially shape the opportunities available to young people in different countries, both in terms of their present life situations but also in terms of how they see adulthood in the future. Although this study was not designed to include a systematic comparison of the national statistical trend data and other contextual data of the five countries concerned, an understanding of the many structural and institutional differences among the countries is crucial to the interpretation of our material which is drawn from the accounts of young people. These differences shape to some extent young people’s own perspectives and understanding in relation to EU policy as well as their understanding as it is shaped in the context of national welfare and labour market policies. This macro-level contextualisation enabled us to

12 Janet Smithson and Julia Brannen situate young people’s accounts and discourses more broadly. Moreover, it was important to note also that some of the young people themselves were also aware of similarities and differences across the European Union, as will be seen in Chapter 8. In addition to contextualisation in national trends and public policy, it is necessary to understand how common-sense conceptual language of the research process reflects and underpins structural and cultural differences. This is highlighted in the definition of categories to be sampled in the study, in particular, unemployed young people and those in vocational training. In the UK and Ireland, many unemployed young people are automatically placed on vocational training courses, a practice which results in the conflation of the categories of unemployed and vocational trainee. In Sweden, vocational training courses (by which we mean a training that gives occupational qualifications for a job) are taken at both secondary school and university level. However, in this study the Swedish and the Norwegian vocational students were in the final year of secondary school and were taking vocational courses. Another example concerns definitions of ‘pre-school children’. In Norway and Sweden the term refers to children aged under 7 while, in the UK, ‘pre-school’ means aged under 4 (currently even under 3, with the recent provision of school half day nursery places for 3- to 4year-olds). These definitions reflect underlying cultural assumptions about what it means to be a young child in Sweden and in the UK. In the latter country children are assumed to be ‘ready’ for formal education much earlier and are conceptualised thereby as recipients of education. By contrast, in Scandinavia where children attend daycare until the age of 7, children are conceptualised more actively in terms of determining their own activities rather than as being subjected to formal teaching. This is changing, however, as formal training and education are targeted at 6-year-olds in preparation for formal schooling at age 7. The different meanings which underpin ‘common-sense concepts’ used in the research process are relevant to the interpretation of issues raised in the research instruments and the ways in which they are applied in the research encounter. For example, young people’s views were sought about the appropriateness of childcare, that is, provided by people other than the parents. There are many issues to unpack in such a question, not least of which concerns the definition of childcare and its application to and embeddedness in the social constructions of childhood and parenthood. These issues of contextualisation within macro-level data and the conceptualisation of apparently common-sense language which underpins the research process can cause problems in comparative research. However, being attentive to these issues has major benefits not only in terms of better understanding the situation of the ‘other’ (country). It also makes researchers ‘strangers’ in their own country and so generates reflexivity at a micro-level, attuning us to our taken-for-granted assumptions about our own societies and beliefs. A main strength for some of us was the possibility of seeing our own societies within a broader context and through the eyes of the researchers from other countries. In practice,

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we found the ‘outsider perspective’ extremely fruitful. However it also generated conflicts which, within the project’s time and communication constraints, were sometimes difficult to resolve. It was important that each of us had some considerable understanding of at least one of the other countries in the study even though we did not speak their languages. To this end several members of the team spent some months working with colleagues in the other countries (two of the British team members spent time in Norway and the Norwegian team member visited Portugal).

Ways of working cross-nationally It is difficult and very time-consuming to collaborate effectively across countries. A multidisciplinary team complicates the matter further. Researchers based in several countries who are united in a common project need to work as a team. This is possible through a number of media. Increasingly such teams communicate via email. But they also need to meet face to face; in our case a meeting was typically added to the end of a conference or seminar which was funded largely for dissemination purposes (the action part of the research). Teams also communicate via paper. In both cases, there is pressure to work in English as the main language. This project was no exception. Communication and translation As in the email communication, spoken communication was conducted in English, since this was the only shared language. Four of the team of seven were native English-speakers, including the project leader, the authors of the research proposal, and the project manager ( Janet). The size of the English-speaking contingent and the time constraints on meetings often led to the native Englishspeakers dominating discussions. The project had budgeted for the translation into English of the focus-group transcripts and interviews. However, translation is expensive, particularly in Scandinavia, while in Portugal the costs were much lower. There were insufficient funds to translate all the material. Hence only a minority of the Scandinavian transcripts were translated. Ideally, there should have been much more money available for translation, especially for a qualitative study where the interviews, both individual and focus groups, are the source of data for comparison. For this reason we have not had the opportunity to make full use of the individual interviews. This was obviously not ideal. This lack of translated transcripts meant there were constraints upon analysis. However, even when translation was possible this did not solve all the issues and a great deal of cross-team checking was necessary to ensure that researchers had interpreted the transcripts appropriately in relation to cultural meanings. Again, more time for discussion of the transcripts in the meetings would have been useful. Although there are no complete solutions to problems of the interpretation of meaning, members of any crossnational project need to be aware of the issues.

14 Janet Smithson and Julia Brannen

The design of the cross-national study Most cross-national research is based on large-scale surveys or data sets that provide insights into general trends but lack the depth and richness of qualitative data. Our approach in this project was necessarily qualitative since we wished to explore young Europeans’ own orientations to the present and future, with respect to their ‘careers’ as partners, parents and workers. The research was intended to help young people to reconcile employment and family life by generating ideas about practical interventions and ‘good practice’ among employers, government and other agencies concerned with training programmes for young people. Specifically its aims, as laid out in the research proposal (submitted to the European Commission) were as follows:

•

• •

•

•

• •

To examine the orientations to employment, training, career and family, and current anticipated needs concerning the reconciliation of family and employment, among young men and women (18–30) in different member states. To identify factors contributing to decisions about occupational trajectories for this generation and to examine ways in which young men and women construct time horizons in diverse contexts. To consider how workplace supports and public policies can be developed to meet young people’s needs: to reconcile economic activity and family life, however constructed; to access equal opportunities in paid work and opportunities for involvement in family life for both men and women, in tune with the values and needs of this generation. To highlight examples of good practice in employer policies and practices in relation to work and family, as identified by younger men and women, and to establish which policies or benefits are most valued by young workers. This will provide essential information for the planning of future social and organisational policy. To examine young people’s expectations of the role of trade unions, public policy and employers in relation to the reconciliation of family and employment; their perceptions of the relative responsibilities of each and the scope for developing supports through social partnerships in a range of European contexts. To evaluate the methodological approach and its broader applicability in other contexts. To disseminate the findings of the investigation of young people’s perceptions to all the social partners via workshops, reports, and an international seminar.

The study’s original aims were empirical, theoretical and practical. As the study evolved, we addressed ourselves to major theoretical issues concerning the nature, pace and direction of social change, which we discuss throughout the book, especially in Chapter 3.

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We considered that the study’s aims would be best met by adopting a qualitative approach, and the focus-group method in particular. Focus groups were used as the main method in this project. The research also included individual interviews as follow-ups to the focus groups. These interviews with different groups of young people aimed to provide individual responses located in young people’s own biographies. The analysis in the book draws mainly on the focusgroup data, with occasional reference to the individual interviews (Chapter 8).1 We chose the focus-group method as our main method for several reasons. We sought to understand whether and how young people thought about their futures. We wanted to approach these issues in as many exploratory and openended ways as possible. The focus group provides such an opportunity. It sets the conditions for open discussion in a context of social interaction. Such discussions have the character of ‘public accounts’ while, in contrast, ‘private accounts’, which are embedded in young people’s own biographies and personal meanings, are more likely to be generated through individual interviews (see Cornwell, 1984 for exemplification; see Finch, 1989 for a theoretical discussion). In order to compare the discourses of young people with different educational backgrounds and different relationships to the labour market, we sought to organise the focus groups around these categories of young adults. A further feature of the study is that we sought to work from the basis of our own current theoretical and substantive interests and experiences rather than to start afresh or to set these aside. Indeed two of the team were conducting studies of their own which, while broadly similar in scope to the cross-national study, had very particular concerns, both theoretical and substantive. (Both Ann (Norway)2 and Clarissa (Sweden)3 were engaged in conducting their own national studies.) In fact, EU funding for the inclusion of Norway and Sweden was sought and obtained following the funding for the other three countries.

The focus-group method Focus groups were first adopted in sociology (Merton and Kendall, 1946) but, in recent years, they have been more commonly used by market researchers (Templeton, 1987). However they are increasingly popular in the social sciences more generally. There is an expanding literature on focus-group methodology for social scientists (see for example Hughes and DuMont, 1993; Kitzinger, 1995; Vaughn et al., 1996; Morgan and Kreuger, 1998). Some researchers (for example Hughes and DuMont, 1993) characterise focus groups as group interviews: ‘Focus groups are in-depth group interviews employing relatively homogenous groups to provide information around topics specified by the researchers’ (p. 77). Others define them as group discussions: ‘a carefully planned discussion designed to obtain perceptions on a defined environment’ (Kreuger, 1998: 88), ‘an informal discussion among selected individuals about specific topics’ (Beck et al., 1986). These definitions show a tension between the focus group as participant–researcher interaction and the focus group as interaction among participants. But all focus groups explicitly generate group

16 Janet Smithson and Julia Brannen interaction (Kitzinger, 1995: 299). In this study, we use the term ‘focus group’ to refer to a ‘controlled’ group discussion where the moderator poses questions, raises relevant topics, and moves the group back to relevant topics or on to new topics on the research agenda. Focus groups have been described as particularly useful at an early stage of research as a means of eliciting general viewpoints. They are then used to inform the research design of larger studies (Vaughn et al., 1996). The method also seemed highly appropriate for our study which set out to be primarily exploratory. Focus-group sampling strategy and recruitment methods We decided to sample the focus groups theoretically (Glaser and Strauss, 1967) rather than attempt to find samples of young people which were statistically representative. By adopting this sampling strategy, the study created the context for the following systematic process of enquiry, summarised by Bryman as follows: ‘The researcher observes only as many activities, or interviews as many people, as are needed in order to “saturate” the categories being developed, and then turns to the next theoretical issue and carries out the same process over again. Thus the question of the adequacy of a sample is determined by the degree to which it permits the qualitative researcher to develop and confirm one or more categories; as soon as the researcher feels satisfied that the theoretical point has been established, he or she can move on to the next issue’ (Bryman, 1988: 117). However, Bryman cautions that Glaser and Strauss’s sampling strategy is rarely used in this way in practice (Bryman, 1988: 117). The theoretical sampling criteria for this study concerned maximising structural variations in young people’s educational and employment opportunities, which also reflected the life-course phase and, in addition, took account of the ways in which these were shaped by gender. Given that in most European countries education and training are lasting longer and young people are entering the labour market at older ages, we decided to cover the age range of 18 to 30. We sought to find groups of young women and young men according to the following five categories: low-skilled blue-collar workers; highly skilled (whitecollar or professional) workers; university students; young people in employment training; and unemployed young people. This design would, we hoped, result in 10 groups of young people, each involving 6–10 participants, in all the five countries. The structuring of these groups by gender, life-course phase/age, and type of educational and employment groups reflects important dimensions which, as research has shown, have continued to shape young people’s trajectories into adulthood (e.g. for the UK, see Roberts and Parcell, 1992). In the UK, participants were recruited by the research officer ( Janet Smithson) working first full- and then half-time on the cross-national project using a variety of methods, including advertisements in universities, workplaces and training organisations, formal contacts with employers and training and enterprise councils (Manchester Training and Enterprise Council also provided some help with funding the study), and personal contacts. It is likely that young people’s motives

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for participating were varied. An incentive to participate was offered in the form of a fee to some UK participants, particularly those who had to travel to attend the focus group. Participants in all the countries were offered refreshments. Other participants were recruited by making the focus groups part of a training programme or course (some UK courses have a personal development component which the focus-group session could count towards). Some volunteered out of interest in the project’s aims and waived a fee. In Sweden and Norway, intermediaries were also used to recruit young people. Personnel managers in local government and local workplaces were asked to recruit young people for the employed category. In Sweden, for example, the following sources of recruitment included: the department of human resources in a technology firm; secondary-school teachers; university teachers; the employment exchange; and a local community administration. In some cases, therefore, the researchers did the recruiting themselves, while in others participants were recruited through intermediaries. The focus-group sample Three hundred and twelve young people, 172 women and 140 men between the ages of 18 and 30 took part in the study, in 70 focus groups (see Appendix II). In addition, 14 interviews were conducted in four of the countries, 40 interviews being conducted in Norway as part of a linked study. Group size varied in the different countries. In Sweden and Ireland, groups were smaller in size (2–5 participants) and more groups participated (24 in Sweden, 17 in Ireland); in Norway (6 groups) and Portugal (11 groups), they were middling in size (4 –8 participants); while the UK groups had the most participants – ranging from 6 to 9 participants in 11 groups, with two smaller groups of 3 participants each. While the research team aimed to adhere to the sampling criteria, this was not always possible. Recruitment difficulties occurred in part because of the reliance upon intermediaries to recruit young people. While personnel in vocational training centres or workplaces or those running courses for the young unemployed agreed to recruit participants and organise the focus groups, they did not, or could not, always adhere to our criteria. Also, as the focus-group literature (e.g. Vaughn et al., 1996) has noted, groups tend to be based on availability. On some occasions young people did not turn up or, of those who did, some did not meet the criteria. It was difficult for the group moderators to turn young people away or, in the case of insufficient numbers, to cancel a group and try again another day for a full quota. How far group size and composition matter is a debatable question. The smaller groups yielded a great deal of relevant data. In practice, in all countries we included groups which did not meet the specifications of the research design: sometimes as ‘extra’ groups over and above the 10 specified groups, and sometimes as part of the specified 10 groups for reasons of practical necessity. Time and money constraints were important factors in these decisions. Moreover, the

18 Janet Smithson and Julia Brannen project manager ( Janet) who was based in the UK had more time to devote to finding recruits and to checking up on whether the young people met the criteria beforehand and to ensure that they turned up. This may be one reason why the UK groups tended to be larger than in the other countries, and why the UK had fewer problems in adhering to the research design. In practice, we included most of the groups in the analysis except for those outside our age criterion of 18–30. The Swedish researcher felt that smaller groups of 4 –5 participants was a better size for giving space for all participants to talk and to explore the different themes, and thus lessened the problem of dominant voices. Practical constraints on samples are important and are often underestimated aspects of the research process. Moreover, if the process of analytic induction is adhered to and focus groups are chosen theoretically on a case-by-case basis, then this makes for difficulties in project planning. The basic question in theoretical sampling is which case or group to turn to next in the analysis and with what theoretical purpose. Unlike the quantitative researcher, the qualitative researcher is expected to redefine the criteria governing the choice of comparison groups as the analysis proceeds on a case by case basis. The selection of cases cannot therefore be planned in advance, as is the case with investigations which use predominantly statistical methods. (Brannen, 1992: 9) In some cases it was possible for the researchers to go back to their contacts in order to find additional groups. Primarily we sought complements of young adults who we thought were ‘under-represented’ in the study, and also categories of young people which, during early analysis of the data, we considered were of particular interest to our research, for example the minority ethnic groups in the UK sample. It was also possible to include some of these ‘under-represented’ young people in the individual interviews, for example, some of the younger, less confident unemployed people who had been more hesitant about coming to focus groups. Compatibility of sampling categories is important in cross-national research. In Norway, the economy was very strong at the time of the study and hence there was little unemployment. Thus this category was not represented in the Norwegian sample. Problems of sample compatibility relate to a second issue which is common in cross-national research, namely the problems of defining categories. As mentioned earlier, there were definitional problems, especially concerning ‘vocational training’ which covered a huge variety of statuses and courses in different countries. In the UK and Ireland, as stated earlier, most young people are required to be registered on a training scheme and cannot be counted as unemployed in the official statistics. A semi-structured focus-group guide was developed via email by the project team and used as a basis for the focus-group discussion (see Appendix II). Specifically, the focus-group schedule covered the following ‘issues’ relating to both

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the present and the future: employment; setting up an independent home; establishing a relationship with a partner; having children; career paths and career breaks; managing a household; caring and employment obligations at individual and household level; time-frames and time allocation; gender identity and expectations. Perspectives on the efficacy and limitations of public policy and supports (e.g. parental leave, childcare provision, employment protection) and experiences of workplace culture, policy and practice were also the focus of attention, together with expectations concerning a sense of entitlement with respect to the role of employers, trade unions and the state in helping employees to fulfil their work and family obligations.

Focus-group analysis and interpretation Maintaining rigour is salient to all research and is no less important in studies using qualitative approaches. Some qualitative research has been criticised for a tendency to focus only on individuals’ accounts and to ignore other types of data and data from other sources. It has also been criticised for tending to select data both to fit an ideal (pre)conception of the phenomenon, or to give a sense of the exotic or dramatic (Bryman, 1988; Silverman, 1993). A further criticism of qualitative data is that it is used in the presentation of research to provide anecdotal ‘sound bites’ or brief snippets as evidence for a particular contention (Bryman, 1988). Research which is designed to address a specific set of issues or political agenda, notably including those of funders, may be susceptible to these tendencies. Media attention which specifically requests ‘exciting’ results adds to the pressures to use qualitative data in this way. Indeed, when we published reports in Britain and Portugal, the research attracted a great deal of interest, though this seemed to relate to the focus of the work itself – on young people’s orientations to the future – and we were not constrained to frame our ‘findings’ to match the media’s own agenda. Analytic strategies Team members varied in their use of analytic strategies and in relation to the particular topic being analysed. Some team members have treated the transcripts more holistically, notably the social anthropologist among us. For the purposes of producing the initial report for dissemination to different stakeholders (the action-research component of the work), much of the analysis was thematic, based on a grounded-theory approach (Glaser and Strauss, 1967). This approach enabled the research team systematically to identify important themes which emerged among the different groups of young adults in the five countries, and to compare such themes across all the groups and across countries. Topics or areas were typically shared out, with two team members working on a particular area of analysis. In many cases team members followed a similar strategy. Each transcript was examined for particular themes and in relation to the questions which the participants were asked, for example, entitlement to

20 Janet Smithson and Julia Brannen support if and when young people became parents while retaining their status in employment. These themes were examined first nationally and then crossnationally in order to identify similarities and differences in views and the discourses within which these were situated. In writing the book, some of us have worked differently in terms of reflecting upon wider theoretical debates and applying these in a reworking of our data (see Chapter 3 for a theoretical discussion). Each of us has examined our own national data set while several of us have analysed the data from other countries on particular issues. However, while carrying out a similar analytic strategy, the whole study drew upon an overarching life-course perspective (Chapter 3 and Chapter 9). But we have also drawn upon our own theoretical starting-points, for example in terms of a feminist perspective or a work–family framework. In different chapters we have applied or criticised a particular body of theory. In Chapter 4 we have examined theory concerning time, while in Chapter 3 we have subjected to a critical eye the theories of individualisation which is so prevalent in the study of youth. In Chapter 5 we have drawn on theories of psychological contracts used in the fields of psychology and management studies. In Chapter 6 we have drawn on feminist theory concerning the recognition (or not) by young people of equality and difference and in Chapter 8 we have applied ideas concerning social justice and sense of entitlement. In writing this book some issues have subsequently been analysed with greater attention to the social construction of discourse, notably to take account of the way themes arose and were discussed in the focus-group situation, the group dynamics and the context of the research method for the generation of meaning. In this approach particular attention was paid to the ordering of contributions made by young people to the discussion, during which process new nuances and meanings were added as the different concepts of being young, family life and employment are elaborated. From a discourse analytic perspective, language is viewed not as a neutral conveyor of information, but as functional and constructive, as a medium which people use to achieve a variety of actions (Potter and Wetherell, 1987). In Chapter 7, for example, we examined the different modalities in the focus groups (including the framing of the questions by the focus-group moderators) whereby young people construct their discussions of the future, moving between general normative statements to accounts of personal (past) experience, to accounts of the current practicalities which face them in their everyday lives. Sensitivity on the part of the analyst of the data was necessary to understand the role played by the focus-group moderator in framing and regulating the discussion and in the construction of meaning. In contextualising the interpretation of the material, we paid attention to the embedding of the concepts of both the researcher and the researched within the focus-group discussion and included the values, qualities and emotions attached to them. Each of these strategies involves moving among different analyses – discussions, groups, countries. These strategies require a process of reflexivity on the part of the researchers to interpret

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the data in terms of content and framing. Since the focus-group moderator was not necessarily one of the members of the research team, this has implications for analysis. The research team members who did moderate their own groups found it much easier to analyse the data. There are particular problems here for analysts of focus-group material, especially when they do not moderate the groups, since it is often difficult to connect each speaker to their particular contributions. When the researcher was also the moderator, she found it easier to relate comments to specific participants, and recall the levels of emotion and enthusiasm for different topics – though this can be aided by meticulous transcribing codes (which we mostly did not use). Focus groups as performance Although focus groups comprise face-to-face interaction of crucial interest to social scientists, and are increasingly being used as a research tool (Wilkinson, 1998), there is a significant lack of literature on the analysis of the interactional and conversational processes and structures involved in them (exceptions include: Agar and MacDonald, 1995; Myers, 1998; Puchta and Potter, 1999). The focus-group method is not merely, as is sometimes argued (Vaughn et al., 1996), a quick way to pick up relevant themes around a topic, but a social event that includes discursive performances by all concerned. From this perspective, language is viewed not as a neutral purveyor of information, but as functional and constructive, as a medium through which people achieve a variety of actions (Potter and Wetherell, 1987). An important characteristic of focus groups is that groups, rather than individuals within groups, constitute the main unit of analysis (Morgan, 1988; Kreuger, 1994). The ways in which the group constitutes the ‘unit of analysis’ therefore needs attention. Another important but little-discussed question concerns the purposes for which participants use the focus groups. These issues may be treated as procedural ‘problems’ for the focus-group moderator to minimise at the point of data collection (Kreuger, 1994; Vaughn et al., 1996). Alternatively, the issues may be viewed as an integral part of the analysis of the material and the procedures of analysis, although the distinction between data collection and analysis is not clear-cut (Silverman, 1993; Potter, 1996). In reflecting upon the analysis of the focus-group data, one of us ( Janet) has identified three issues which the researcher using focus-group methods should take into account (Smithson, 2000). The first issue concerns ‘dominant voices’ (Smithson and Diaz, 1996). This is the situation in which a particular voice emerges and dominates the discussion. The question is then raised as to how far this voice shapes the group’s opinion and silences dissenting voices. For example, it was noticeable that in the groups that contained young people who were already parents (rare in most of the groups) these young people dominated discussions relating to parenthood and childcare, and were deferred to by other group members, who acknowledged them as ‘experts’. Members of minority ethnic groups did not raise issues of

22 Janet Smithson and Julia Brannen race or ethnicity except when their group was in the majority. Of course, the moderator can encourage different group members to speak. On the other hand, it can be argued that remaining silent need not be viewed as a problem. Silence is an ‘enduring feature of human interaction’, present in research communicative contexts as elsewhere (Poland and Pederson, 1998: 308). Moreover, the interviews provided a different context in which to take up such issues. In their analytic approaches the researchers aimed to be sensitive to group dynamics and the context of the research encounter. One issue here concerns the generation of public opinions – the extent to which they are already established and convincingly held or constitute a product of the focus-group interaction. People’s opinions also vary over time even within a discussion (Goffman, 1981). The discourse analysis approach aims to take account of these phenomena. The second issue concerns the construction of the ‘other’ through the behaviour and attitudes of the moderator (Edwards, 1996; Griffin, 1996; Wilkinson and Kitzinger, 1996). The moderators of the focus groups in the study were, with one exception, white women and they were all occupationally middle class. One strategy to minimise moderator bias in constructing young people as the ‘other’ is to ensure that the moderator is from a background similar to that of the participants. To moderate the British-Asian focus groups, we recruited a young British-Asian woman, although she expressed some discomfort in conducting a focus group with young British-Asian men, with whose opinions she did not identify. On the other hand, having the same moderator throughout is also useful in ensuring that the same issues are addressed in all groups. Importantly, it adds reliability to data collection. Moreover, Hurd and McIntyre (1996) made the point that there is ‘seduction in sameness’ in minimising differences between researcher and researched which can hinder a critical reflexive research. Instead of aiming for ‘sameness’ between moderator and researched, it is possible to allow for the emergence of diverse voices especially among those from culturally diverse backgrounds. Within focusgroup methodology there is scope for ‘minoritised’ participants to frame and to some extent to normalise their accounts (Burman et al., 1998). For example, the Asian women in one UK group (all second- or third-generation British Asians from Sikh or Hindu backgrounds) compared their views on marriage with those of their mothers. With the initial impetus coming from the moderator, the discussion returned many times to the issues the women felt were most relevant – arranged marriages versus love marriages and the problems of living with in-laws. Rather than being constructed by the researcher as the ‘other’, these Asian women used the focus group to position themselves between two cultures at ‘intersecting axes of identification’ (Brah, 1996), as this extract from one of the UK focus groups (female British-Asian university students) illustrates: Purba:

Sabiya:

They’re not as tolerant now, my mum says, like couples now, like women put up, like my mum and all our mums here, that generation, they put up with so much. So much.

Qualitative methodology in cross-national research Purba:

Mira: ?: ?: Mira: Zora:

Purba: Sabiya:

23

Some of that stuff that the in-laws did, and even the husbands did, whereas I think that ’cos we’ve probably been more educated we don’t put up with as much. And also we’ve been introduced to a life where we don’t have to put up with it. Yeah. Yeah. We can stand on our own two feet. I think that’s like, when you said, ‘Do you think that education is stopping you from being a good wife and mother?’, I think that’s why they sometimes think that education is not a good thing, ’cos it teaches you to think for yourself, and to assert yourself. They find it a threat, yeah. ’Cos it is.

Dominant voices may lead to dominant discourses or ‘standard’ views which may be assumed to prevail, albeit they are not necessarily explicitly stated within the group. Assumptions about homosexuality are one such example in our study of an assumed dominant discourse. This was commented on by participants on feedback forms which were administered after the focus groups (two women noted on their forms that they felt the researcher or the group had ‘assumed heterosexuality’). As researchers we were interested in notions of ‘family’ and also in the differences in views and practices concerning relationships, families and parenting. Although the primary focus of our research was not on sexuality, assumptions about ‘normal’ sexuality have implications for young people’s lifestyle choices and expectations for the future. It is unlikely that everyone in the study was heterosexual; however, no one positioned themselves as lesbian or homosexual in any of the discussions. (See Stokoe and Smithson, forthcoming, for a discussion of heterosexual assumptions in the UK focus groups.) This was particularly noticeable as some participants chose to disclose other personal details about their living arrangements, relationships and hopes for future relationships, and their expectations of future family life. Moreover, the issue is not simply related to the moderator but to the assumptions and dynamics of the group, for example fear of peer-group disapproval. In retrospect, we would wish to include focus groups with young lesbians and gay men in order to understand their orientations to work and family life. Focus-group methodology provides insights into the ‘public’ discourses which may differ from ‘private’ views expressed in individual interviews (Cornwell, 1984; Radley and Billig, 1996; Temple, 1998). As discussed earlier, accounts need to be analysed in relation to their contexts, which includes the research encounter itself. Focus-group moderators can be sensitive to the language they use and the assumptions they make, for example, by using the word ‘partner’ instead of boyfriend/girlfriend. A moderator has the option to use the terms which the group uses, in this case assuming heterosexuality, or to use more inclusive terms which risk alienating the group. However, it is also possible that

24 Janet Smithson and Julia Brannen the very framing of the research in terms of ‘family life’ contains a heterosexist bias. In fact homosexuality was brought up in a general way by the moderator in the UK focus groups by asking the young people’s views on lesbian and gay parenting. Some people did express their views on this subject, but the issue was always positioned from a heterosexual point of view. The following are the views of 18-year-old female secretarial students: Focus-group moderator: What do you think about lesbian couples, homosexual couples having children, do any of you know any people in that position? Sally: I don’t, I don’t think it’s right really, two lesbians to bring up a child. Vicky: I don’t know. Sally: Because they’re . . . Tina: It depends if they’re happy. Rachel: If that’s what they want. While focus groups may tend towards the reproduction of normative discourses, this was not universally the case (see Chapter 7). Occasionally groups highlight confusion and conflict within normative discourses. Moreover, the range of argumentative behaviours exhibited by participants results in a depth of dialogue not often found in individual interviews. Focus groups should be viewed as ‘performance’ as well as meaning-construction, with participants and researcher positioning themselves through the group discussions. Opinions need to be treated as dynamic and as being constructed and reconstructed in the course of the focusgroup situation. It is therefore important that young people’s opinions are not treated as simply ‘belonging’ to individuals within the group, or as opinions held by the whole group, but as discourses which are negotiated in these contexts. Focus groups permit insights into rhetorical processes, or ‘practical ideologies’: ‘the often contradictory and fragmentary complexes of notions, norms and models which guide conduct and allow for its justification and rationalisation’ (Wetherell et al., 1987). However, focus groups are not simply performances in which the participants jointly produce accounts about proposed topics in a socially organised situation. Nor are they ‘natural’ discussions. They are also ‘discourses’ in that they are framed in relation to modes of regulation which are in turn situated in social relations of power (Bernstein, 2000).

In conclusion A typical problem in the analysis of qualitative data is how to manage the large quantity of material. This problem is magnified hugely in a five-country study. However, it is also compounded by a number of other issues which we have discussed in this chapter. These issues are to do with cross-national research: a

interpreting qualitative data in the context of structural, cultural and institutional differences among countries;

Qualitative methodology in cross-national research b c

25

creating a transnational team; creating the procedures and organisation of the research project in all its various stages from conceptualisation, fieldwork, data analysis and writing.

We have highlighted issues which arise in using focus groups as a main source of data collection, for example issues of sampling and recruitment. We have also discussed the nature of focus-group data and the claims that can be made in terms of extrapolation. We emphasise the interactive nature of focus groups and the importance of interpreting the discussions generated in terms of the structural character of the groups, and the dynamics and processes which frame the performance and creation of discourse. Thus we drew attention to the structural composition of the group and the characteristics of the moderator in relation to the other group members. Here we discussed issues relating to social-status differences in the focus groups and the influence of ethnic ‘sameness’ which might lead some voices to be more dominant and to the silencing of other voices in the groups. Structural composition and resources of power shape the framing of discourses, but discussions also have their own dynamic, notably those relating to taken-for-granted assumptions concerning dominant discourses. Many of the issues we have discussed are essentially to do with meaning and interpretation. The socially and culturally embedded discourses of the young people, which are the focus of this book and which we have sought to analyse, have had to undergo, in Bernstein’s terms (Bernstein, 2000), ‘processes of recontextualisation’. First, the data had to be transcribed from tape. Then they were interpreted with relation to the theoretical frameworks and the languages associated with our particular disciplinary locations (psychology, sociology, anthropology) and with respect to the ‘fields’ in which we work (work–family, life course, gender studies). Finally we had to communicate our findings in a policy context as required by the EU under the conditions of our funding. In the EU and in the UK in particular, the emphasis upon dissemination to the wider world has grown in recent decades. This trend is driven by the way research projects have been put out to the market in order to achieve ‘best-value’ and low-cost marketisation of research (Brannen and Edwards, 1996). Those who engage in funded research are increasingly judged at all stages of the research process by the so-called users of research, from judging the research application to the final written products. In this respect it is significant that the first publication based on the study was a report written for a wide general audience and launched with the support of an international bank. This emphasis on dissemination to ‘user’ audiences both reflects and contributes to the fragmentation in the disciplinary bases of the social sciences as they are reconfigured into ‘fields’. As Bernstein has theorised, this fragmentation happens more easily in the social than in the ‘hard’ sciences. The social sciences constitute horizontal knowledge structures which have weak grammars; these may be contrasted with the hierarchically organised knowledge structures of economics and the hard sciences whose grammars are stronger (Bernstein, 2000). In the

26 Janet Smithson and Julia Brannen former situation of the social sciences, ‘what counts in the end is the specialised language, its position, its perspective, the acquirer’s gaze rather than any one exemplary theory . . . truth is a matter of acquired gaze; no one can be eyeless in Gaza’ (Bernstein, 2000: 165). These processes have resulted in a reduction in the status of theory, especially in funded research. They have further weakened the grammars of the languages which social scientists speak. Thus as researchers we are required to speak simultaneously two languages or ‘double speak’: our own highly specialised language which defines our field (rather than our discipline) and a common language which addresses the generalist audiences of ‘research-users’. The escalating problems of communication and understanding which emanate from these weakening grammars is hence masked by our mastery of what, on the surface, appears to be a common language of ‘user communication’. A parallel argument might be mounted for the increasing colonisation of the English language over other languages, a situation with particular relevance for a transnational study in which English is the currency of communication. Communication and interpretation offer particular challenges to a cross-national team. We employed translation services to translate the focus groups and interviews into English, a task which was further complicated by the fact that it was done by others. In addition, we had to make sense of each other’s analyses, both of our own data sets and those of the other countries; in Bernstein’s terms, this involves the processes of recognition and acquisition of different discourses (Bernstein, 2000). Given the particular social science traditions within our different countries and their different relations to public policy, the problems referred to above become compounded: the weakening grammars of the social sciences and the ‘double-speak’ of simultaneously addressing popular and specialist audiences. Writing from our separate locations and from other different positions within social science disciplines and fields and having limited opportunities for meeting face to face place heavy constraints upon the identification of similarities and differences, and the confrontation of difference. All this means that our attempts at writing the book as a collective rather than as a group of individuals (we sought to co-author each chapter) has been an immense task. A brave attempt has been made and we hope that the result has at least partially overcome the many constraints. Yet despite the theoretical, methodological and contextual challenges we faced, the interest shown both by the ‘user groups’ as well as by researchers and academics suggests that we have achieved some success in speaking to these dual audiences. We hope we have gone some way to making transparent the theoretical frameworks and methods used in our research. In suggesting the limitations and issues these raise, we would want nonetheless to suggest that doing qualitative, theoretically based research in a cross-national context is worth the effort. We hope that future researchers will find some inspiration from our work and will build upon the analytical insights we have gained. All of us have learned a tremendous amount from the experience, which we recommend to others who have the time and energy needed to attempt this challenging task.

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Notes 1 The individual interview participants were chosen according to the same broad framework as the focus groups. In each country, 14 participants were selected from the following groups (one male and one female in each category): (1) unemployed (for 2 or more years) including people on training schemes while unemployed; (2) trainees or those in vocational education, of which the main element is training though they may also be working; (3) students in ‘high-tech’ subjects – computing, maths, physics; (4) blue-collar employed in health services. There were two reasons for using individual interviews as well as focus groups. One is that the combination provides insights into both ‘private’ and ‘public’ discourses, through views expressed both with peers and with an interviewer (Kitzinger, 1994). The second reason is that different aims underpin each method. One of the limitations of the focus-group method is that it does not allow for the examination of the individual’s biography and life story, which is necessary in order to understand how he/she acts upon his/her beliefs and constructs his/ her work and family lives. Individual interviews were therefore used in the second stage of the research to follow up in greater detail issues raised in the focus groups, to generate data concerning individual perspectives and biography, and to offer a private context for individuals to give their accounts of issues they might not air in a focus group. Using two methods permits triangulation as a form of validation, although this is a contentious way of framing the issue (Brannen, 1992). The responses to similar questions in focus groups and individual interviews can be compared to see whether they correspond. But this does not mean that the responses are assumed to be comparable. As discussed, we would expect different kinds of accounts to be generated in each context, though not exclusively so. As noted above, certain more ‘taboo’ issues may not be aired in a group context; similarly, personal hopes and plans for getting married and for having children may not necessarily be shared with peers. Although the data must be analysed in relation to their context, similarities and discrepancies may prove helpful in interpreting young people’s perspectives on these issues. 2 Ann Nilsen’s study Two Generations’ Expectations for the Future employed individual interviews with men and women of two birth cohorts (1935–42 and 1970–77). The focus of the research was broader than in the comparative study (Nilsen, 1999). In addition to the individual interviews (40 with the younger cohort), focus-group interviews were done to match the comparative data. The research was funded by the Faculty of the Social Sciences, University of Bergen, Norway, The Norwegian Research Council, and the British Council (for comparative analysis with the British data). 3 Clarissa’s project was called ‘Orientations of young women and men towards work and family’. The aim of the project was to investigate the situation of increasing casualisation of work and a growing contingent workforce which leads to changes in the preconditions for becoming parents. The following questions were addressed: How do younger workers who have never experienced a climate of jobs for life perceive and make decisions about family and work? What is the impact on the family life of younger women and men and on gender equity of changes in the labour market? The project was funded by the Swedish Council for Planning and Co-ordination of Research.

References Agar, M. and MacDonald, J. (1995) ‘Focus groups and ethnography’, Human Organization, 54: 78–86. Banister, P., Burman, E., Parker, I., Taylor, M. and Tindall, C. (1994) Qualitative Methods in Psychology: A Research Guide, Buckingham: Open University Press. Beck, L. C., Trombetta, W. L. and Share, S. (1986) ‘Using focus group sessions before decisions are made’, North Carolina Medical Journal, 47(2): 73–4.

28 Janet Smithson and Julia Brannen Bernstein, B. (2000) Pedagogy, Symbolic Control and Identity: Theory, Research, Critique, Lanham, MD: Rowan and Littlefield. Brah, A. (1996) Cartographies of Diaspora, London: Routledge. Brannen, J. (ed.) (1992) Mixing Methods: Qualitative and Quantitative Research. London: Gower (reprinted). Brannen, J. and Edwards, R. (1996) Perspectives on Parenting: Looking Back and Moving Forward, ESRC Workshop Proceedings, South Bank University. Bryman, A. (1988) Quantity and Quality in Social Research, London: Unwin Hyman. Burman, E., Gowrisunkur, J. and Sangha, K. (1998) ‘Conceptualizing cultural and gendered identities in psychological therapies’, The European Journal of Psychotherapy, Counselling and Health, 1(2): 231–56. Cornwell, J. (1984) Hard-Earned Lives: Accounts of Health and Illness from East London, London: Tavistock Publications. Edwards, R. (1996) ‘White woman researcher: black women subject’, Feminism and Psychology, 6(2): 169–75. Finch, J. (1989) Family Obligations and Social Change, Cambridge: Polity Press. Glaser, B. G. and Strauss, A. L. (1967) The Discovery of Grounded Theory: Strategies for Qualitative Research, New York: Aldine. Goffman, E. (1981) Forms of Talk, Oxford: Blackwell. Griffin, C. (1996) ‘See whose face it wears: difference, otherness and power’, Feminism and Psychology, 6(2): 185–91. Grootings, P. (1986) ‘Technology and work: a topic for East–West comparison?’, in P. Grooting (ed.) Technology and Work: East–West Comparison, London: Croom Helm, pp. 275–301. Hantrais, L. (1999) ‘Contextualisation in cross-national comparative research’, The International Journal of Social Research Methodology: Theory and Practice, 2(2): 93–109. Hughes, D. and DuMont, K. (1993) ‘Using focus groups to facilitate culturally anchored research’, American Journal of Community Psychology, 21(6). Hurd, T. L. and McIntyre, A. (1996) ‘The seduction of sameness: similarity and representing the Other’, in S. Wilkinson and C. Kitzinger (eds) Representing the Other, London: Sage: 78–82. Kitzinger, J. (1994) ‘The methodology of focus groups: the importance of interaction between research participants’, Sociology of Health and Illness, 16: 103–21. Kitzinger, J. (1995) ‘Introducing focus groups’, British Medical Journal, 311: 299–302. Kreuger, R. A. (1994) Focus Groups: A Practical Guide for Applied Research, second edition, Newbury Park, CA: Sage. Kreuger, R. A. (1998) Analyzing and Reporting Focus Group Results, Focus group kit 6, Newbury Park, CA: Sage. Merton, R. K. and Kendall, P. L. (1946) ‘The focused interview’, American Journal of Sociology, 51: 541–57. Morgan, D. L. (1988) Focus Groups as Qualitative Research, Newbury Park, CA: Sage. Morgan, D. L. and Kreuger, R. A. (1998) The Focus Group Kit, Newbury Park, CA: Sage. Myers, G. (1998) ‘Displaying opinions: topics and disagreement in focus groups’, Language in Society, 27: 85–111. Oyen, E. (1990) in E. Oyen (ed.) Comparative Methodology: Theory and Practice in International Social Research, London: Sage, pp. 1–18. Poland, B. and Pederson, A. (1998) ‘Reading between the lines: interpreting silences in qualitative research’, Qualitative Inquiry 4(2): 293–312.

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Potter, J. (1996) An Analysis of Thinking and Research about Qualitative Methods, Mahwah, NJ: LEA. Potter, J. and Wetherell, M. (1987) Discourse and Social Psychology, London: Sage. Puchta, C. and Potter, J. (1999) ‘Asking elaborate questions: focus groups and the management of spontaneity’, Journal of Sociolinguistics, 3(3): 314 –35. Radley, A. and Billig, M. (1996) ‘Accounts of illness and health: dilemmas and representations’, Sociology of Health and Illness, 18: 220–40. Roberts, K. and Parcell, G. (1992) ‘Entering the labour market in Britain: the survival of traditional opportunity structures’, Sociological Review, 30: 727–53. Silverman, D. (1993) Interpreting Qualitative Data: Methods for Analysing Talk, Text and Interaction, London: Sage. Smithson, J. (2000) ‘Using and analysing focus groups: limitations and possibilities’, International Journal of Methodology: Theory and Practice, 3(2): 103–19. Smithson, J. and Diaz, F. (1996) ‘Arguing for a collective voice: collaborative strategies in problem-oriented conversation’, Text, 16(2): 251–68. Stokoe, E. H. and Smithson, J. (2000) ‘Gender and sexuality in talk-in-interaction: considering a conversation analytic perspective’, in P. McIlvenny (ed.) Talking Gender and Sexuality, Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Temple, B. (1998) ‘A fair trial?: judging quality in qualitative research’, International Journal of Social Research Methodology, Theory and Practice, 1(3): 205–15. Templeton, J. F. (1987) Focus Groups: A Guide for Marketing and Advertising Professionals, Chicago: Probus. Vaughn, S., Shay Schumm, J. and Sinagub, J. (1996) Focus Group Interviews in Education and Psychology, Newbury Park, CA: Sage. Wetherell, M., Stiven, H. and Potter, J. (1987) ‘Unequal egalitarianism: a preliminary study of discourses concerning gender and employment opportunities’, British Journal of Social Psychology, 26: 59–71. Wilkinson, S. (1998) ‘Focus group methodology: a review’, International Journal of Social Research Methodology, Theory and Practice, 1(3): 181–204. Wilkinson, S. and Kitzinger, C. (1996) Representing the Other, London: Sage.

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Theorising the individual– structure dynamic Ann Nilsen and Julia Brannen

Introduction The questions we have sought to address in this study are many and varied. All are concerned with young people’s images of the future and their pathways to adulthood. Specific issues addressed include young people’s expectations of employment and parenthood, gendered views about combining employment and parenthood and how they think about the sources of support available to them. Each chapter draws upon specific bodies of theory. In this chapter we will discuss some of these in relation to a life-course perspective, which serves as an overarching frame of theoretical reference. The traditional life-course perspective focuses on the connections between the life course of individuals, the birth cohorts they belong to, and the historical periods through which individuals and cohorts live.1 There are a number of different theoretical approaches and research methods in this field. The common characteristic is the perspective per se, the basic aim of which is to generate an understanding of the individual, through his or her biography, in the context of institutional structures and change. This involves an analysis of historical social processes linking the individual to society. Conceptualising the life course within a standard life-course model as a set of discrete and linear phases which relate to age is an important way of understanding ‘youth’ in contrast to ‘childhood’ and ‘adulthood’ (Lowenthal et al., 1977; Skrede and Tornes, 1983; Elder, 1985; Riley, 1988; Mitterauer, 1992; Irwin, 1995; Rogers, 1997). Moreover, the transitions between life-course processes assume particular importance in this analysis since they are shaped differently by gender, generation, historical period, national context, and social processes of culture and social class. The dynamic approach that this perspective offers has therefore been adopted in various sub-fields of the social sciences. In youth research, for example, the life-course perspective has come into its own with a resurgence of interest in the 1980s ( Jones and Wallace, 1992; Irwin, 1995). This approach lays the ground for a more ‘holistic approach to understanding young people [. . .] in which their relationships with their families, their peers, the labour market, and so on, can be integrated within a biographical approach’ ( Jones and Wallace, 1992: 13). The data in our study are not bio-

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graphical in the sense that they are individual biographical interviews nor indeed would we agree that a life-course perspective is the same as a biographical approach (see note 1). However, the logic that has guided our research design in this study has been a life-course perspective: in our selection of different groups of young people at different ‘ages and stages’ which are differentiated by life chances, gender and national context. Our central aim was to ask young people to reflect on themes relating to their future lives as adults. Those born during or immediately after the Second World War were the first generation in the Western world to experience the democratisation of youth in the sense that youth as a distinct life-course phase was possible for everyone. There has been a wave of far-reaching demographic and political change in many Western – more particularly North-West European – societies over the past 50 years. These include: the rise (and subsequent fall) in cohort size of younger generations; educational reform providing more democratic access to education; the establishment of welfare states; the restructuring of labour markets and employing organisations; and the political radicalisation of young people and the women’s movement in the 1960s and 1970s. All these and more serve to distinguish the post-war cohorts of young people from those born earlier in the century (Hobsbawm, 1994; Stafseng, 1996). During the post-war period youth has become a more influential group in society than previously, as consumers as well as political actors (Hobsbawm, 1994). Moreover, youth research has become a distinct field in the social sciences.2 In this chapter, theories about youth per se are not the focus of our attention. Rather, we seek to examine how a range of theories relating to specific areas of concern, notably employment and parenthood, education and employment prospects can be understood as themselves products of their historical location and structural circumstances. We also wish to explore to what extent particular theories, currently topical in contemporary social science, represent a break with an earlier theoretical problematic, namely the link between the individual and social structure. For this latter ‘individual–structure dynamic’ is at the heart of making sense of life course and historical change. In the writings of influential social scientists, the contemporary period is conceptualised as ‘late modernity’ and discussed in terms of ‘risks’ and ‘uncertainties’ (Giddens, 1991; Beck, 1992). A key conceptualisation of this period, as well as being a product of this period, is the theory of individualisation (Giddens, 1991, 1994; Beck, 1992; Beck and Beck-Gernsheim, 1995; Bauman, 2001). This theory has become influential not only in research on young people (see e.g. du Bois-Reymond, 1998), but also in studies of work, education and family life (Beck and Beck-Gernsheim, 1995, 1996). We will take as problematic the conclusion that individual choices and decisions govern people’s lives. We will do so through our adoption of the life-course approach. Some of the other theories that have been drawn upon in the various chapters in the book will also be considered, especially with reference to how far these theories themselves are shaped by theoretical assumptions concerning individualising processes and

32 Ann Nilsen and Julia Brannen the lesser importance given to issues of social structure. In the second half of this chapter we will return to discuss the individualisation thesis. We will argue that theories about the social changes which have occurred in most Western societies over the last half-century can be understood in two ways: as analytical tools which provide critical in-depth insights into emergent social phenomena and trends, and as ideological notions which shape our understandings and interpretations of the world and of our own actions. We will argue that by identifying the ‘double nature’ of such conceptualisations, and by making this explicit in our theoretical discussions, we can deepen understanding not only of the social phenomena we study in our research, but also of social science theory in general. Since the individualisation thesis is so prominent across the broad terrain with which we are concerned, a detailed presentation of it is required before we proceed further.

Individualisation and the life course The theory of individualisation, as it is expressed in the writings of Ulrich Beck (1992, 1994) and Anthony Giddens (1991, 1994), has become influential in most areas of the social sciences. Debates about whether changes in Western societies during this historical period called ‘late modernity’ can best be understood in terms of the process of individualisation (Giddens, 1991, 1994; Beck, 1992, 1994; Beck and Beck-Gernsheim, 1995) have been going on for some time. Individualisation as a concept is not new to sociology, however (Lukes, 1973; Elias, 1978; Kumar, 1995; Cetina, 1997; Bauman, 2001). Conceptualisations of the life course in terms of phases, the sequencing of which vary over historical time, have also referred to processes of individualisation. In youth research, the concept is drawn upon in a discussion of the historical processes relating to youth as a distinct life-course phase (Mitterauer, 1992; Stafseng, 1996). Socio-economic developments that lead young people, men in particular, to move away from their families of origin to gain training and/or find work have been understood as a process of individualisation. ‘The high mobility of young people in old European society certainly contributed to a sense of individuality and independence which developed in the course of their youth’ (Mitterauer, 1992: 23).3 At a general level, the individualisation thesis belongs to the discourse of risk society4 (Beck, 1992). The structural context in which individual choices are made is thought to have changed to such an extent so as to make choices and decisions problematic in their own right. They are therefore problematised as risks (Beck, 1992). To avoid being exposed to unacceptable levels of risks, choices have to be made with much deliberation beforehand.5 One definition of individualisation in the current debate refers to ‘first, the disembedding and, second the re-embedding of industrial society ways of life by new ones, in which the individual must produce, stage and cobble together their biographies themselves’ (Beck, 1994: 13). A further clarification of the term is given by Beck when he says that

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individualisation is not based on the free decision of individuals. To use Sartre’s term, people are condemned to individualisation. Individualisation is a compulsion, but a compulsion for the manufacture, self-design and selfstaging of not just one’s own biography but also its commitments and networks as preferences and life phases change, but, of course, under the overall conditions and models of the welfare state, such as the educational system (acquiring certificates), the labour market, labour and social law, the housing market and so on. (p. 15) Thus the ‘choice biography’ replaces the ‘standard biography’. The sequences in life-course development that hitherto were thought of as standard, can no longer be taken for granted. Institutional changes in welfare-state regimes as well as in work and education make people’s lives as individuals less and less predictable. Individual choices and decisions are thus central themes in their own right in discussions about individualisation. Beck suggests that the process of choices and decisions which constitute individualisation is lifelong and that there is more room for flexibility over the life course in contemporary society than ever before. Choices and decisions have to be made over the whole life course (Beck, 1992: 127– 37). The concern with identifying what constitutes change links to another central aspect of the theory, namely mobility. Demographic and social change, associated with the industrialisation of Western societies, made it necessary for, or even forced, some people to become more mobile geographically at some phases of their lives than they would have been had they lived in the agrarian Middle Ages (Lukes, 1973; Kumar, 1995). The notion of mobility, in Beck’s account, is discussed in terms of movements between different marriage partners and between places of employment over the whole life course. Developments in the contemporary ‘de-industrialising’ Western world link the theme of mobility to more fundamental aspects of life and the life course, than was previously the case.6 In the individualisation thesis the individual is portrayed in terms of a kind of restlessness in spatial terms, between partners and employers over the whole life course. However, mobility in terms of personal change and development, which does not necessarily imply movement in spatial terms, is little discussed in the Beckian variety of the thesis. Others who adopt a life-course perspective, such as Mitterauer (1992: 30–1), address this aspect of change and development over the life course and suggest that youth was not the only period of the life course where change and development occur. Thus the individual in the Beckian thesis is in continual spatial motion, whereas the life-course perspective focuses on development and change at personal and collective levels. A central issue in the former theory is that the very notions of phases and stages in life are no longer seen to apply. Changes at the institutional level are assumed to force individuals to give up the norms and habits associated

34 Ann Nilsen and Julia Brannen with a predictable and stable existence; instead activities and decisions previously thought to belong to youth are ongoing throughout life. In this theory, adulthood is therefore not distinguishable from youth. When distinctions between lifecourse phases become blurred, long-established notions of transition are no longer seen as valid. In short, conceptualisations of youth and adulthood are themselves transformed as well as the processes which they seek to describe. As Basil Bernstein’s theoretical approach emphasises, it is important to ensure that concepts, or that which he terms the ‘external languages of description’, while referring to the language of those which they seek to describe, must be capacious enough and refer to something other than itself. This ‘discursive gap’ provides for ‘re-description’, that is, for the possibility of conceptual development and change (Bernstein, 2000: 209). This brief account of the individualisation thesis demonstrates a break with a more traditional understanding of life-course development. In the discussions throughout this book, our empirical analyses challenge a number of the assumptions of this thesis. Our cross-national data allow us to demonstrate a variety of life-course ‘adjustments’ and practices in which young people respond to, and act upon, conditions at the structural level. Moreover, our analyses also indicate that ‘old’ patterns of inequality in society, such as those of social class, are still to be reckoned with.

Time, gender and life-course transitions As we stated above, a concern here is to discuss the main theoretical notions drawn upon in the chapters of the book. Our concern is also to consider them in relation to what we have termed the ‘double nature’ of these concepts: the ways in which they serve to describe social phenomena but also constitute ideological representations which guide meaning and social action. In Chapter 4, the central conceptual theme refers to young people’s time horizons. The life-course perspective has a special affinity with discussions of time. Growing up and growing old occur over time and also in time. Concepts relating to life course, generation, families, and historical periods are by definition about time, whether it be individual time as in the life course, or family time related to inter-generational kin networks, or historical time related to broad structural trends (Skrede and Tornes, 1983; Elder, 1985). In Chapter 4 we discuss theoretical perspectives concerning individualisation, risk and uncertainty in relation to concepts of time. Nowotny’s notion of the ‘extended present’ (Nowotny, 1994) proposes a shift in people’s perception of time. This conceptualisation is seen as influencing the individual’s experience of time in their everyday lives, as well as in biographical terms. The pace of change at the structural level is so rapid that individuals can no longer think ahead and plan for the ‘future’ under high modernity in the way they did in industrial society. This focus on the present can be theorised with emphasis on its liberating aspects (Nowotny, 1994; Adam, 1995) and resonates clearly with the individualisation thesis. However, it can also constrain people’s lives – make

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people ‘prisoners of the present’ (Sennett, 1998) – in which case it is necessary to take ‘old’ sociological notions such as social class into consideration. The empirical analyses in Chapter 4 set out to generate typologies of different time perspectives among young people whose lives are lived within different contexts. We suggest that young people at different points in the life course and in different structural situations conceptualise and consider their futures differently. This variation derives from young people’s present perspectives as they relate to particular life-course phases and ‘moments’ which young people are in the process of negotiating, and the ways in which their expectations are shaped by their gender, ethnicity, educational and other resources; for example related to the social class of their families of origin. In formulating our typologies, we have made explicit use of the individual–structure link. We argue that division between an old model of life-course development termed ‘the standard biography’, and a new type called the ‘choice biography’, as proposed by the individualisation thesis, is too simplistic. Three models of time orientations are identified. We present these as typologies that can be tested in further research. We suggest that only one of these ways of thinking about the future – ‘the model of adaptability’ – reflects the traits that characterise ‘the choice biography’. In this case, the young people who orient themselves to the future with a model of adaptability are from relatively privileged backgrounds and are training to enter high-status occupations. Chapter 9 discusses transition patterns to adulthood. Data from Portugal and Norway are analysed and four different transition patterns are identified. The analysis supports findings in Chapter 4, those whose lives are lived in a context of a universal welfare state and who have a relatively autonomous financial situation – i.e. are not dependent upon parental support, have lifestyles that we associate with the notion of ‘young adulthood’. They are the relatively privileged young who think of their lives and their futures with ‘expectation’ rather than ‘apprehension’ (Sennett, 1998), and who think that the shaping of life is more or less up to themselves only. On these grounds also we conclude that the notion of a choice biography describes the perceptions, if not the situation, of a particular group of young North-West European people. In our analyses of time perspectives (Chapter 4) and the patterning of transitions to adulthood (Chapter 9), we conclude that a number of aspects of the individualisation thesis are challenged by empirical phenomena. Our discussion in the two chapters is closely linked. In Chapter 9, on the basis of analysis of the Portuguese and Norwegian focus-group discussions, we identify a variety of transition patterns – from youth to adulthood. These vary according to national context, but also with reference to the social-class and educational resources of the young people and their families. The variations again signify that the notion of a movement away from a standard biography to a choice biography is too simplistic. A shift towards a choice biography advocated by the individualisation thesis must be considered through an analysis of structural conditions and resources related to social class, education, gender and ethnicity. Moreover, as we argue in Chapter 9, the contexts in which young people achieve their transitions

36 Ann Nilsen and Julia Brannen to adulthood are centrally determined by the welfare-state regimes of the societies in which their lives unfold. In several of the chapters of this book the latter emerges as a very significant factor for the ways young people think about and discuss parenthood, work and education. Those who live their lives in long established, strong welfare-state regimes typically take for granted the security nets which these regimes provide. However, a strong welfare state, recognised or not, provides a very different framework for people’s lives compared with societies which lack such social provision. In Chapter 6 we discuss how young people perceive gender as a structuring feature of their lives. The starting-point of the chapter is that gender, with class and race, is one of the structural and cultural realities that affects the shape of people’s lives. The existence of gendered realities, however, does not necessarily equate with any individual’s awareness of them. In times of rapid social change, where there are discontinuities in individuals’ experiences, disjunctions arise between individuals’ practical and discoursive consciousness. These kinds of disjunctions are evident in the accounts of the young people in this study as they deal with the contradictions between a gendered reality and a discourse of individual choices. Also in the context of gender the rhetoric of choice and the emphasis on the individual serve to take attention away from the structural features of gender, and the way these permeate institutions in any society.

Perspectives on work and parenthood The theoretical perspectives in this book reflect the fact that authors come from different disciplines within the social sciences. In Chapter 5, a psychological perspective is adopted. Here the notion of psychological contract is applied to an examination of young people’s labour-market participation and expectations, now and in the future. The concept, first coined by Argyris (1960), signifies how, at the individual level, employees orient themselves to employment and the relationship between employers and employees. The psychological contract operates over and above the formal contract of employment. The term ‘psychological contracting’ refers to beliefs, values, expectations and aspirations of employer and employee, including perceptions of obligations and the extent of their mutuality or reciprocity; it also refers to the process whereby these perceptions are arrived at, which involves interpreting a range of organisational cues and social interactions. This concept has been applied to situations of organisational change – both structural and cultural – in which the ‘normal’ psychological contract is being reshaped by employers. For example, when long-term, loyal employees are made redundant this signals to employees that there can be no expectation of their loyalty being rewarded by long-term security. The discourse of a ‘new psychological contract’ with its emphasis on developing individual employability reflects a rhetoric of choice on behalf of the employee and a limit to the responsibility of employers underplaying structural constraints and ‘old inequalities’.

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In our analysis of the focus-group discussions, we suggest that young people as employees are changing their expectations of employers and of employment in ways which are often complex and which do not necessarily form a coherent whole. Becoming an employee with a particular employer is a social process which involves changes in expectations over the individual’s life course or over the course of their career in employment. Expectations are shaped by phase in the life course and also by the labour market and by the kinds of relationship employers seek to re-engineer with their employees, especially in the context of greater labour market flexibility. As we demonstrate in Chapter 5, notions of loyalty, a key component of ‘old style’ psychological contracts, are absent. Young people’s responses to current employment conditions are suggestive of three types of response – compliance, short-term commitment and compromise. It may be that some employees start out from a baseline of compliance in which they have little bargaining power (perhaps when they are new to the enterprise and/or have a very short-term contract, or are on the bottom rung of the ladder). Some of these young people may shift towards short-term commitment as time moves on, while others may start from this perspective. Again, as trust builds up and employees feel able to push for some ‘give and take’ between employer and employee, and as young people require some flexibility in their employment related to family commitments or personal projects, they may seek to engage in reciprocity or compromise with their employers. Employee expectations will vary according to the life-course phase, as Chapter 5 indicates. Moreover, if the psychological contract is implicit – a kind of silent agreement between two parties in the employment situation based on expectations of the other – then the kind of contract needed from the viewpoint of the employees is likely to vary with their general situation in life, that is, not only in relation to their employment situation. The context of increased insecurity in the labour market is the backcloth against which the changing psychological contract is considered. These changes in the labour market whereby there is a trend towards more temporary contracts, greater job insecurity and longer working hours, especially in countries like Portugal and the UK, lead us to question the validity of the original meaning of the concept ‘psychological contract’ as a two-way relationship. If it is the case that this type of contract is in the minds of the employees only, and that employers feel free to act independently of employees’ normative expectations – implicit or explicit – then the term ‘contract’ becomes problematic. In situations where there is little acceptance or even room for collective consensus about what employees can and should reasonably expect from employers, then the whole notion of psychological contract may lose its meaning. Indeed, short-termism may undermine the very basis of the work ethic (Baumann, 1998b; Sennett, 1998). The analysis of young people’s work orientations, moreover, shows differences according to the national contexts of welfare-state regimes. Young people in the Nordic countries, who have grown up with strong traditions of universalistic welfare states, are more likely to express dissatisfaction with short-termism and with conditions which require them to negotiate rights and obligations with

38 Ann Nilsen and Julia Brannen employers on an individual basis (the young Swedish people on temporary contracts). Psychological contracts in these countries are therefore premised on the rights and entitlements that their welfare states provide for employees collectively. In Chapter 8 the concept ‘sense of entitlement’, a second psychological concept, is drawn upon. This concept denotes a set of beliefs or feelings about what is seen to be ‘fair and equitable’ in terms of rights and entitlements in the context of employees requiring formal support for their caring obligations to children. Sense of entitlement is distinct from legal entitlement and is experienced individually, albeit generated through social processes. In the study, we asked young people to imagine having parental responsibilities and to think about the kinds of policies and practices which they would like employers and the state to provide or which they think that these agencies ought to provide. In Chapter 8 we argue that the sense of entitlement which young people experience reflects fundamental gender contracts underpinning the welfare states in which they live and the gender-related values upon which they are based. Thus those living in strong welfare states have a greater sense of entitlement to support from the state and from employers compared with those in weak welfare-state regimes. However, this was not a simple association with other factors mediating the relationship. The extent to which young people were influenced by availability of entitlements in other European Union countries was one such factor. Another related to their perception of the benefits to employers of providing work–family supports. Young people living in societies with weak welfare-state regimes, at least with respect to work–family policies (UK, Ireland and Portugal), did not feel a great sense of injustice in not having such rights and entitlements. Rather they looked at the situation from the employers’ perspectives and exempted them from the responsibility to provide support to employees for care obligations. They did so on the grounds that it was against employers’ business interests. Thus, in this situation, employees identify less with one another than they do with their employers to whose fortunes they see themselves as inextricably tied, especially in the context of an insecure and highly competitive economic climate. While the psychological contract refers to a specific relationship, that is, between employers and employees, the concept of sense of entitlement is used to denote a more general set of beliefs and feelings about rights and entitlements, or legitimate expectations, based on what is perceived to be fair and equitable (Major, 1993; Bylsma and Major, 1994). It rests on individual and collective notions of social justice. It is interesting to reflect that, in a social and political climate where welfare is being reshaped more by the market than by collective agreements and the state, concepts and theories which emphasise choices and feelings at the individual rather than the structural level will gain ground as explanatory devices. Our point here is not to take issue with psychological concepts but rather to argue that such concepts should also be subjected to an overarching perspective which takes account of the individual–structure dynamic. In Chapter 7 we examine young people’s responses to questions about combining employment and family life in the future. In this analysis we draw upon

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sociological frameworks for understanding how social norms which prescribe or guide behaviour are applied in practice. Drawing upon the writings of Finch (1989) whose work represents a long-established stream of theory in community studies and social anthropology, social norms concern the ‘proper thing to do’ and relate both to principle and practice. With respect to elder care in particular, Finch and Mason (1995) show that no social consensus exists as to who among kin should help care for elderly people. Such solutions are negotiated in relation to a whole range of factors to do with kin availability concerning the giving of care, the closeness of particular relationships between carer and cared for, and a range of ‘legitimate excuses’ which may exempt particular kin from giving care such as employment obligations. The application of this perspective is leading to more general conclusions concerning social norms. In late modern society, in many though not all areas of family life in Northern Europe, norms are no longer categorical prescriptions for behaviour. Rather they constitute ‘guidelines’ which people apply to particular situations. Thus the notion of family obligations expressed as unequivocal norms may be increasingly redundant. In Chapter 7 this framework is applied to a range of national contexts with very different practices and norms concerning the employment of mothers and the care of children. Moreover, some of these national contexts are themselves changing rapidly as employment is increasingly encouraged, for example in the UK in the context of a withdrawal of benefits for unemployed lone mothers. Moreover, these issues relate to young people in the future. Thus their beliefs and responses refer to hypothetical situations. The interpretations of the different modalities in which young people couch their responses need to take account of this. Asking young people to imagine the future reconciliation (or not) of employment and parenthood generates a complex set of responses: at general normative levels concerning the ‘proper thing to do’; at the level of specific experience; and at the level of practicality. These modalities of discussing the future do not necessarily cohere. In their discussions young people refer to general norms which reflect often entrenched public discourses concerning parenthood and the care of children. These may relate to the past and the present. They are often culturally embedded, as well as relating to national public-policy contexts. These discourses may or may not mesh with young people’s own experiences of being brought up. Young people also make specific normative judgements about their own experiences. Moreover, norms expressed at these different levels may conflict, so that as young people look to new phases of their future life course they may harbour hopes and dreams for their lives which cut across their normative beliefs or sit uneasily with them. The often contradictory developments taking place in the labour market and public policy do not provide clear signposts for young people and are part of the confusion which they must make sense of. At a meta-theoretical level, such an analysis provides a complex picture of the resources – normative, experiential and practical – which young people bring to their understandings and construction of parenthood and employment. Such empirical complexity lends further support to our argument that the transition to adulthood is not governed in a unitary way by wholesale social processes.

40 Ann Nilsen and Julia Brannen We may ask how these different orientations articulate concerning: the psychological contract, ideas about the future and reconciling employment and family life, and young people’s sense of entitlement to formal support. To answer this question we would need to study young people over the course of the transition to adulthood. Nonetheless, it is important theoretically to examine the connections between these different notions as they relate to individuals’ trajectories in employment and family life and as they pertain to beliefs about public policies and the conduct of employers. In a study which focuses upon the transition to adulthood, we need to examine how these perspectives may be encompassed within conceptualisations of the life course. For at the heart of this book is the question: how may young people, mostly without family responsibilities and with different levels of resources, make the shift to being adult in different changing contexts? How can the individual–structure connection be discussed in the context of rapid social and economic change? The issue here is not simply a question of what young people expect in relation to different contexts and issues. It also has to do with the way we theorise their lives and how those theories may themselves be shifting. In the last half of this chapter, we will therefore examine the individualisation thesis more closely.

The individual–structure dynamic: a critical discussion When the life course is discussed within the current orthodoxies of individualisation, the connection between structure and the individual is posed antithetically, as the quotation below demonstrates: The theory of individualization takes sides in political debate in two ways: first, it elaborates a frame of reference which allows the subject area – the conflicts between individuals and society – to be analysed from the standpoint of individuals. Secondly, the theory shows how, as modern society develops further, it is becoming questionable to assume that collective units of meaning and action exist. (Beck and Beck-Gernsheim, 1996: 40) By contrast, the traditional life-course perspective sees no conflict between society and the individual. Rather, it is a case of two sides of the same coin (Elias, 1978; Wright Mills, 1980). Moreover, both levels are intertwined and inseparable. This relatively recent exclusive focus on individual choices and decisions as disembedded from social circumstances and structural contexts seems to take conditions at a structural level as given. Indeed, the individualisation thesis almost presupposes the existence of welfare states of the Nordic or German variety in order for its assumptions to have merit (Beck and Beck-Gernsheim, 1996). However, in recent decades capitalism, in its globalised form, has grown stronger, the deregulation of public services has accelerated, and welfare states have declined, as private markets assume greater importance than the state (Hobsbawm,

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1994; Bauman, 1998a and b). Moreover, while the Scandinavian welfare states still offer employees a fair amount of social protection, for example in terms of generous rights to parental leave, social provision varies greatly across the countries in the study. Current political rhetoric emphasises positive aspects of individualisation. According to this line of reasoning, individualisation is considered not only inevitable, but also desirable from ‘people’s’ (consumers’) point of view, since markets are said to offer freedom of choice. As Jones and Wallace (1992) observe, the ‘New Right’ made the ideological notion of the free market the basis for its politics and introduced the term ‘consumer citizenship’. The thesis of individualisation therefore can be seen to resonate with such political ideology. Moreover, as Bauman (1998b) states, there is no such thing as ‘collective consumption’ (p. 30). If the rhetoric of individual choice and its focus on the market and consumption is accepted uncritically, even welcomed, the notion of collectivity indeed has no meaning. The approach to sociological problems which the individualisation thesis offers negates the classic sociological concern with the duality of agency and structure. In short, it fails to give due regard to the parameters within which individual decisions, choices and actions are made. In a situation where there is massive one-sidedness in the messages broadcast by the media and where even social scientists emphasise the freedom of individuals to choose their own lives and destinies, there is a risk that new theory will become tomorrow’s orthodoxies. Bauman (2001) captures the double nature of this process in the following quotation: The distinctive feature of the stories told in our times is that they articulate individual lives in a way that excludes or suppresses (prevents from articulation) the possibility of tracking down the links connecting individual fate to the ways and means by which society as a whole operates; more to the point, it precludes the questioning of such ways and means by relegating them to the unexamined background of individual life pursuits and casting them as ‘brute facts’ which the story-tellers can neither challenge nor negotiate, whether singly, severally or collectively. (Bauman, 2001: 9) If we look at the notion of the ‘choice biography’ from this perspective, it may well have some merit. Indeed, the stories which some people tell about their lives may be permeated by the emphasis on agency and reflexivity that characterises so much contemporary discourse. While the lives people live continue to be processually and contextually embedded, people find the external and structural forces that shape their lives more difficult to comprehend. Individualisation in its current meaning and usage can therefore also be construed as having an ideological function in shaping perspectives about life. If you think you can choose, then you also believe it is up to you to decide; and you are seemingly not at the mercy of forces beyond your control. For example, young women may think that

42 Ann Nilsen and Julia Brannen they have equality and choice, but ignore the ways in which gender structures opportunities. In our study, as indeed in others (e.g. du Bois-Reymond, 1998), there is ample indication that the positive rhetoric of choice has more appeal to, and relevance for, young people whose social background and education provide the resources necessary to think they are the creators of their own destinies without help or hindrance from others, whether from their own resources and/or those of the state and their families. When structural forces and personal resources, such as gender and social class, support one another there is a tendency for the structural resources to take on an ‘invisible’ quality. As Bertaux (1997) comments in a discussion of the transmission of family resources across generations: ‘Because transmission reifies the heir (treats him as an object), it seems to carry the kiss of death. To become the subject of the heritage, the heir must act upon it by leaving his or her mark upon it’ (p. 93). Thus, as a study in which one of us is currently engaged suggests (Brannen et al. forthcoming), those generations in receipt of care services or money from older kin often tend to downplay or omit to mention its importance, emphasising instead their own agency in making the best of their lives – making outcomes appear to be solely the result of individual effort. The individual in such instances feels neither empowered nor disempowered by the structure she or he acts within. Rather, it is a case of not paying attention to such matters. For the less privileged, on the other hand, the choice rhetoric can serve to worsen their situation and world view since, according to such an ideology, there is no one to blame but oneself, that is if one has not made the ‘right’ choices, or has not succeeded in accomplishing one’s aims. In a parallel way Bernstein’s work (Bernstein, 2000) shows that modalities of language are embedded in social structure and that linguistic strategies of control which emphasise only the agency (self-regulatory) side of the agency–structure divide can ‘result’ in the sources of social control or rather control itself becoming invisible. Power is hence a central concept in Bernstein’s work. Similarly, another notable theorist of the concept of power elaborates a threedimensional model of power (Lukes, 1974). Steven Lukes poses the question: [I]s it not the supreme and most insidious exercise of power to prevent people, to whatever degree, from having grievances by shaping their perceptions, cognitions and preferences in such a way that they accept their role in the existing order of things, either because they can see or imagine no alternative to it, or because they see it as natural and unchangeable, or because they value it as divinely ordained and beneficial? To assume that the absence of grievance equals genuine consensus is simply to rule out the possibility of false or manipulated consensus by definitional fiat. (Lukes, 1974: 24) The situation for those at the ‘receiving end’ of power which Lukes describes here could be conceptualised as a process of disempowerment. This also permeates the accounts of both Bauman and Bernstein. Individualisation as ideology could

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thus be thought to disempower those whose lives are more at the mercy of structural constraints than others. In his Work, Consumerism and the New Poor Bauman (1998b) discusses these themes in relation to market liberalism. Here, people’s individual rights to freedom of choice are defined in terms of consumption, which is emphasised at the expense of the political rights of citizenship, as welfare states decline in most European countries. The idea of the welfare state is grounded on principles that ‘equality in need overrides inequality in the ability to pay’ (p. 45), and ‘the right to dignified life [is] a matter of political citizenship rather than economic performance’ (p. 46). As the European welfare states are cut back because of the political emphasis placed on the economic factors, the focus in both social scientific and public discourses could be said to have shifted from discussions about life situation to matters of ‘lifestyle’ which relate to consumerism and market choices (Bauman, 1998b). In studies where individualisation is a dominant theoretical motif, the focus is on individual lifestyles and identities, especially concerning consumption, and most particularly in the sociology of youth (du Bois-Reymond, 1998). In a critique of this perspective Jones and Wallace (1992) argue that it takes for granted an affluent society whilst ignoring structures that create inequalities in (young) people’s ability to choose, and it makes no distinction between consumption for basic needs and ‘consumption for cultural choice’ (pp. 121–3). Indeed, increasingly, having children is portrayed as a lifestyle choice. The very term ‘lifestyle’ is associated with consumption for cultural choice ( Jones and Wallace, 1992). Bauman (1998b) also criticises the logic of choice for the same reasons. Lifestyle is associated with aesthetics and with consumerism. In the writings of Bauman (1998b) the shift from ethics to aesthetics in the sphere of work is a central theme. Concepts such as ‘the psychological work contract’ and ‘sense of entitlement’ have been applied in discussions of employment and to formal support for combining employment and parenthood. The concept of a psychological work contract rests upon a situation in which the work ethic is held in high regard by employers and employees alike. Bauman (1998b: 33–4) maintains that there has been a shift of focus from the work ethic to the aesthetics in work. Where the work ethic plays down inequality and differences between types of work and occupation, so the focus on the aesthetics of work does just the opposite. It elevates certain occupations which, as Bauman (1998b) notes, ‘call for the same qualities which are demanded for the appreciation of art – good taste, sophistication, discernment, disinterested dedication and a lot of schooling’ (p. 33). This argument is linked to arguments about the increasing salience of consumption as a marker of status: ‘Like freedom of choice and mobility, the aesthetic value of work has turned into a potent stratifying factor in the society of consumers’ (Bauman, 1998b: 34). These types of jobs can be seen as the ‘new vocations’ ( just as the old professional occupations of the upper-middle classes once were, albeit based on very different values), and ‘have become the privilege of the few’ (Bauman, 1998b: 33). At the same time, the ‘normal’ conditions of work are based on increased ‘flexibility’. As Bauman (1998b) suggests, ‘this

44 Ann Nilsen and Julia Brannen increasingly fashionable notion stands for a game of hire and fire with very few rules attached, but with power to change the rules unilaterally while the game is still being played’ (p. 27). In circumstances where employers lay down the rules unilaterally, and have the power to change them without notice, employees’ expectations are likely to be very low indeed. As Chapter 5 shows, those who are in occupations which resemble those that Bauman (1998b) associates with ‘vocations’ have access to the kinds of education and training that allow them to choose more freely and to move out of a work situation that for some reason is deemed unsatisfactory. The discussion in this section has demonstrated a shift in focus in social theory away from the individual–structural dynamic towards the individual only. Accompanying concepts in this new trend in theory are notions such as lifestyle, consumerism, choices, decisions, aesthetics etc. Together this conceptual apparatus forms a body of theory that is less helpful for understanding patterns of inequality and variations that are systemic and systematic rather than individual and random in both power and the lack of power. We have therefore sought to examine the recent trends in theory from a critical and dual perspective.

Conclusion The life-course dynamics that are at work for the generation of young people in our study are very different from those which applied to the young people’s parents when they were the same age. Variations across national contexts also make for differences, both within and between generations. As the following chapters will demonstrate, the contexts in which young people’s lives unfold vary greatly, and call for theoretical perspectives that are sensitive to such diversity. The ‘old style’ life-course perspective in itself gives no prescriptions about what types of theories are valid for exploring and explaining life-course dynamics. The only ‘demand’ placed on studies undertaken from this perspective is that both structural and individual factors are taken into account in empirical analysis. In this chapter we have attempted to analyse current theories that problematise the life course. We have done so from a viewpoint which refers to ‘the double nature’ of theories and concepts. Concepts and theories in the social sciences are themselves products of historical social processes and social structures. Referring to the work of Bernstein (2000), the ‘external languages of description’ that conceptualisation provides enable social scientists not only to describe but also to interpret a wide spectrum of social phenomena and processes. The step from description to interpretation is the moment of ‘recognition’ and ‘realisation’ in Bernstein’s terms: ‘the rules for the unambiguous recognition of what is to count as a relevant empirical relation, and rules (realisation rules) for reading the manifest contingent enactments of those empirical relations’ (p. 13). Thus it behoves us as social scientists to carry out empirical analysis which allows us to specify under which conditions we can say that a particular social process applies and under which conditions it does not. If we fail to do this, we risk misinterpretation or over-interpretation. Moreover, we may create new orthodoxies which

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may act as ideologies. Indeed, the deconstruction of orthodoxies and ideologies is at the heart of social science. Our study can say nothing about how the expectations we have identified will actually play out in young people’s lives in the future when young people reach adulthood. What we have indicated is that old-style inequality patterns still exist, as the quantitative data on social mobility suggest for most industrialised societies (Marshall, 1997), albeit the manifestations of those inequalities may change over time and place. Theories that draw on and generalise from a very short period in history and on this basis state that old patterns have been swept away to be replaced with new social processes is premature generalisation and risks missing the detailed, complex picture of change and continuity as it is patterned by individuals acting upon and being acted upon by structural forces.

Notes 1 A biographical approach is not necessarily the same as a life-course perspective. The biography can be understood as the interpretation of events in the life course, which may or may not be approached in a linear way, whereas the life course itself is chronological and linear (Nilsen, 1997). Moreover, biographical studies, in contrast to much of the life-course research, where longitudinal surveys are commonly used, more often than not make use of qualitative approaches (Bertaux, 1981; Plummer, 1983) or a combination of qualitative and quantitative approaches (Bertaux and Thompson, 1997). 2 The notion of ‘youth’ has been discussed and problematised in a number of ways. Many studies discuss different conceptualisations of youth which emerge at different historical periods ( Jones and Wallace, 1992; Mitterauer, 1992; Irwin, 1995; Stafseng, 1996; Furlong and Cartmel, 1997; Rogers, 1997). However, the special characteristics of the post-war generation have in many ways become the yardstick against which notions of youth in other historical periods have been discussed. 3 Giddens’s (1994) arguments about the development of ‘post-traditional societies’ rest on the same line of thinking. He maintains that choices and decisions are key notions for understanding processes at the individual level in societies where traditional ties and ways of thinking no longer have the same relevance as in earlier times. 4 ‘Risk society’ as a term is often associated with the increased dangers for society as a whole from environmental problems, but the term also refers to individual level phenomena (Beck, 1992). 5 In Beck-Gernsheim’s (1996) terms, life has become a ‘planning project’, a concept we discuss in Chapter 4 (see also Brannen and Nilsen, 2001). We suggest that the term is paradoxical for the very reason that, in order to be of much use, planning requires a fairly predictable and stable future. 6 But as Bauman (1998a: 93) observes, voluntary and chosen mobility is for the few: the majority of people even in the Western hemisphere is either stuck in a space where the future holds little promise, or is forced to move against their wishes.

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46 Ann Nilsen and Julia Brannen Bauman, Zygmunt (2001) The Individualized Society, Cambridge: Polity Press. Beck, Ulrich (1992) Risk Society: Towards a New Modernity, London: Sage. Beck, Ulrich (1994) ‘The reinvention of politics: towards a theory of reflexive modernisation’, in Ulrich Beck, Anthony Giddens and Scott Lash, Reflexive Modernization: Politics, Tradition and Aesthetics in the Modern Social Order, Cambridge: Polity Press. Beck, Ulrich and Beck-Gernsheim, Elisabeth (1995) The Normal Chaos of Love, Cambridge: Polity Press. Beck, Ulrich and Beck-Gernsheim, Elisabeth (1996) ‘Individualization and “precarious freedoms”: perspectives and controversies of a subject-orientated sociology’, in Paul Heelas, Scott Lash and Paul Morris (eds) Detraditionalization: Critical Reflections on Authority and Identity, Oxford: Blackwell. Beck-Gernsheim, Elisabeth (1996) ‘Life as a planning project’, in Scott Lash, Bronislaw Szerszynski and Brian Wynne (eds) Risk, Environment and Modernity: Towards a New Ecology, London: Sage. Bernstein, B. (2000) Pedagogy, Symbolic Control and Identity: Theory, Research, Critique, Lanham, MD: Rowman and Littlefield. Bertaux, Daniel (1981) ‘From the life history approach to the transformation of sociological practice’, in D. Bertaux (ed.) Biography and Society: The Life History Approach in the Social Sciences, London: Sage Publications. Bertaux, Daniel and Paul Thompson (1997) Pathways to Social Class: A Qualitative Approach to Social Mobility, Oxford: Clarendon Press. Brannen, J. and Nilsen, A. (2001 in press) ‘Young people’s time perspectives: from youth to adulthood’, Sociology. Brannen, J., Gilbert, E., Mooney, A. and Moss, P. (forthcoming) ‘A study of work and care in four generation families’ (working title). Bylsma, W. H. and Major, B. (1994) ‘Social comparisons and contentment: exploring the psychological costs of the gender wage gap’, Psychology of Women Quarterly, 18: 241–9. Cetina, Karin Knorr (1997) ‘Sociality with objects: social relations in postsocial knowledge societies’, Theory, Culture and Society, 14(4): 1–30. Du Bois Reymond, M. (1998) ‘ “I don’t want to commit myself yet”: young people’s life concepts’, Journal of Youth Studies, 1(1): 63–79. Elder, Glen (1985) ‘Perspectives on the life course’ in G. Elder (ed.) Life-Course Dynamics: Trajectories and Transitions 1968–1980, Ithaca, NY, and London: Cornell University Press. Elias, Norbert (1978) What is Sociology? New York: Columbia University Press. Finch, J. (1989) Family Obligations and Social Change, Cambridge: Polity Press. Finch, J. and Mason, J. (1995) Negotiating Family Responsibilities, London: Routledge. Furlong, Andy and Fred Cartmel (1997) Young People and Social Change: Individualization and Risk in Late Modernity, Buckingham: Open University Press. Giddens, Anthony (1991) Modernity and Self-Identity: Self and Society in the Late Modern Age, Cambridge: Polity Press. Giddens, Anthony (1994) ‘Living in a post-traditional society’, in Ulrich Beck, Anthony Giddens and Scott Lash, Reflexive Modernization: Politics, Tradition and Aesthetics in the Modern Social Order, Cambridge: Polity Press. Hobsbawm, Eric (1994) Age of Extremes: The Short Twentieth Century, London: Michael Joseph. Irwin, Sarah (1995) Rights of Passage: Social Change and the Transition from Youth Adulthood, London: UCL Press. Jones, Gill and Claire Wallace (1992) Youth, Family and Citizenship, Buckingham: Open University Press.

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Kumar, Krishan (1995) From Post-Industrial to Post-Modern Society: New Theories of the Contemporary World, Oxford: Blackwell. Lowenthal, Marjorie F., Thurnher, Majda and Chiriboga, David (1977) Four Stages of Life, San Francisco: Jossey Bass Publishers. Lukes, Steven (1973) Individualism, Oxford: Blackwell. Lukes, Steven (1974) Power: A Radical View, London: Macmillan. Major, Brenda (1993) ‘Gender, entitlement and the distribution of family labor’, Journal of Social Issues, 49(3): 141–59. Marshall, G. (1997) Repositioning Class: Social Inequality in Industrial Societies, London: Sage. Mitterauer, Michael (1992) A History of Youth, Oxford: Blackwell. Nilsen, Ann (1997) ‘Great expectations?: exploring men’s biographies in late modernity’, in Grønmo, Sigmund and Bjørn Henrichsen (eds) Society, University and World Community, Oslo: Scandinavian University Press. Nowotny, Helga (1994) Time: The Modern and Postmodern Experience, Cambridge: Polity Press. Plummer, Ken (1983) Documents of Life, London: George Allen and Unwin. Riley, Mathilda W. (ed.) (1988) Social Structures and Human Lives, Newbury Park, CA: Sage Publications. Rogers, Rex Stainton (1997) ‘The making and moulding of modern youth: a short history’, in Youth in Society: Contemporary Theory, Policy and Practice, London: Sage. Sennett, Richard (1998) The Corrosion of Character: The Personal Consequences of Work in the New Capitalism, New York: W. W. Norton. Skrede, Kari and Kristin Tornes (eds) (1983) Studier i kvinners livsløp (Studies in Women’s Life Courses), Oslo: Universitetsforlaget. Stafseng, Ola (1996) Den historiske konstruksjon av moderne ungdom (The Historical Construction of Modern Youth), Oslo: Cappelen Akademiske Forlag. Wright Mills, C. (1980) The Sociological Imagination, London: Penguin Books.

48 Julia Brannen and Ann Nilsen

4

Young people’s perspectives on the future1 Julia Brannen and Ann Nilsen

All of us are doomed to the life of choices, but not all of us have the means to be choosers. (Bauman, 1998b: 86)

Individualisation has become a key concept in theories of social change in Western societies. Closely associated with this is the idea that the life course is undergoing fundamental changes, involving destandardisation and desequencing; the ‘standard biography’ is thought to be replaced by ‘choice biography’. These theorisations invite debate about the concept of time, since they occur over time and within time. They also require an orientation to time. In this chapter we examine theories of life-course process and change and concepts of time with reference to the research questions: how do young people think and speak about the future; and what bearing do young people’s situations and time perspectives have upon the way they envisage the future and the transition to adulthood? We draw upon empirical material from focus groups conducted with young people in two West European countries, Britain and Norway. Our main purpose in this chapter is to develop a theoretical discussion about young people’s time orientations as they emerge in group discussions, and to present our tentative attempts to apply theory to empirical data. This is an exploratory analysis, since the study was not designed to address this issue specifically. Moreover, the ways in which national trends and institutional frameworks shape young people’s discourses about combining employment and family life in the future are discussed elsewhere (Chapters 7 and 8). We explore variations in young people’s ways of thinking about their future lives on the basis of which we propose three ideal-typical models. The models suggest a greater variety in ways of thinking and planning for the future than the individualisation thesis and its emphasis on ‘the choice biography’ implies.

The destandardisation of the life course It is widely asserted that the relation between social structure and the individual’s passage through the life course, in terms of a set of prescribed social transitions

Young people’s perspectives on the future 49 (Bertaux, 1981; Elder 1985) is being transformed (Buchmann, 1989; Beck, 1992, 1994; Beck-Gernsheim, 1996; Furlong and Cartmel, 1997). The life course is said to be undergoing a process of destandardisation, both in terms of the prescribed order of its phases and also in terms of the linearity of its progress. Thus it is assumed that some people may choose to omit particular stages of the life course altogether, while others will change the prescribed order or return to an earlier life-course phase. The life course is no longer so clearly gendered. Before the decline of unskilled and semi-skilled manual jobs in manufacturing, notably in Britain but also to some extent in Norway, working-class young men left school, went into work and anticipated adult responsibilities, albeit at the same time as wanting to continue as ‘one of the lads’. Young women, by contrast, from an early age expected to have a job first and then become mothers; employment was temporarily located before and after motherhood (Martin and Roberts, 1984). As women increasingly expect to participate in the workforce whatever their family obligations, they combine two life-course phases – motherhood and work – as two simultaneous careers (Brannen et al., 1997). For many young women, employment and occupational careers which promise economic independence are novel possibilities which were not available to many of their own mothers. Youth as a period of preparation for adulthood is undergoing change (Mitterauer, 1992; Irwin, 1995; Furlong and Cartmel, 1997; Rogers, 1997). Across all industrialised countries, adolescence lasts longer, as education and training are extended. Education and training have expanded to include most young school-leavers, as the pool of semi- and unskilled work has dried up and as the demand for more highly trained workforces has grown. Great diversity exists among these extended pathways through training and education, albeit there is much less standardisation in curricula and qualifications in Britain compared with other industrialised countries such as Norway (Shavit and Müller, 1998). However there are few clear timetables to govern young people’s navigation through the multiplicity of pathways into work (Furlong and Cartmel, 1997). Yet in Britain entry into higher education is less of a guarantee for gaining higherstatus, more prestigious occupations than elsewhere (Shavit and Müller, 1997). Moreover, while entry into the labour market is deferred in all Western countries, so too are other markers of adulthood, namely, leaving home, marriage and transitions to parenthood (Skrede, 1999). Yet the extension of youth as a life-course phase and the emphasis on the agency of youth in creating diverse ways of ‘being young’ still somehow assumes that adulthood is an unproblematic concept (Lewis et al., 1998a; Nilsen, 1998). In effect, with the rapidity of economic change and the increasing uncertainty of the labour market, notably the ending of ‘jobs for life’, and through the rise in women’s employment and the demise of the male-breadwinner, traditional notions of male adulthood are increasingly redundant, while new notions of female adulthood are still emerging.

50 Julia Brannen and Ann Nilsen

Individualisation theory and the choice biography The life course is also said to have become a much less standardised experience. Destandardisation involves a loosening of biographies which has been conceptualised as a process of individualisation. A theoretical perspective which discusses this process is individualisation theory (Giddens, 1991, 1994; Beck, 1992, 1994; Beck and Beck-Gernsheim, 1995). Intrinsic to the theory is the thesis that the process sweeps away structural divisions of gender, social class and age. Individual choices become all the more important, and the choice biography takes over from the standard biography. Choices involve planning at every crossroad in life, thus Beck-Gernsheim’s (1996) phrase ‘life as a planning project’. Some writers (for example Giddens, 1994) portray this process somewhat optimistically in terms of a weakening of constraints and increased liberation for individuals, which is signified in the very term ‘choice biography’. By contrast, in some commentaries (Beck and Beck-Gernsheim, 1996) there is an emphasis on the burdens which the continuous process of making choices and decisions places upon individuals: Life loses its self-evident quality; the social ‘instinct substitute’ which supports and guides it is caught up in the grinding mills of what needs to be thought out and decided. If it is correct that routines and institutions have an unburdening function which renders individuality and decision making possible, it becomes clear what kind of encumbrance, exertion and stress is imposed by the destruction of routine. (Beck and Beck-Gernsheim, 1995: 30) Moreover, as Beck argues, the individual is not so much an actor in the choice biography as compelled by (de)institutional(ising) structures to make choices. Individualisation is a compulsion, but a compulsion for the manufacture, self-design and self-staging of not just one’s own biography but also its commitments and networks as preferences and life phases change, but, of course, under the overall conditions and models of the welfare state, such as the educational system (acquiring certificates), the labour market, labour and social law, the housing market and so on. (Beck and Beck-Gernsheim, 1995: 15) The compression of the working life at both ends of the life course is resulting in a more intensive employment experience manifested in longer working hours (Brannen and Moss, 1998) and marked by the stress of increased personal responsibility for making provision for the lengthening periods of the life course outside work (Deven et al., 1998). This condensing and intensive period in work during the middle years of the life course also constitutes a concentration of several life-course phases into a single phase – bringing together work and care responsibilities – which is sandwiched between elongated periods of youth on the

Young people’s perspectives on the future 51 one hand, and retirement and old age on the other (Brannen and Moss, 1998). It may also lead to the social exclusion of those who do not manage to maintain employment in the peak period. In Britain especially, the past two decades have witnessed new and sharper dividing lines between the ‘haves’ and the ‘have nots’. In a time where the number of beggars, in a literal sense, has increased, choices are not for everyone; a choice biography takes little account of the saying ‘beggars can’t be choosers’ (Bauman, 1998a). For the many young people in insecure jobs (European Commission, 1997; Tables 4, 5 and 6, Appendix I), on low pay rates during training, on limited benefits during unemployment, or trying to repay loans for higher education, it would not be surprising were they to see rather little sense in long-term planning. As Sennett (1998) notes, where changes happen so rapidly that people barely know if they have a workplace tomorrow or where it will be located, people may feel trapped in the present and ‘apprehensive’ rather than expectant about the future. ‘An apprehension is an anxiety about what might happen; apprehension is created in a climate emphasising constant risk, and apprehension increases when past experience seems no guide to the present’ (Sennett, 1998: 97).2

A conceptual discussion of time The ways in which people conceptualise and experience time are important influences upon whether they have a notion of planning for the future. Recent theories of the way time shapes experience and experience shapes time are helpful here. While life is lived in time and time concerts and co-ordinates our everyday lives, the life course and the wider social context, the concept of time itself is not static and changes in relation to historical period and varies across different societies (Ferrarotti, 1985; Kumar, 1995). Crudely, we may say that in pre-industrial or traditional society time was cyclical. It was structured, for example, by the seasons and in relation to the demands of reproduction and care. Through the introduction of standardised units of time or clock time, a shift occurred in modern society from cyclicality towards linearity (Ferrarotti, 1985; Davies, 1989; Gronmo, 1989; Adam, 1990, 1995; Harvey, 1990; Nowotny, 1994; Kumar, 1995). The extended present In late-modern society the shaping of time upon human experience is undergoing further transformation (Adam, 1990, 1995; Harvey, 1990; Nowotny, 1994; Kumar, 1995). Daly (1996) summarises some of the debates. He suggests that, principally through advances in technology, in late modern society time is becoming disconnected from space while the time taken to travel in space is annihilated. Time is increasingly experienced pluralistically since new technology makes us constantly available and allows us to be constantly interrupted. Time is also accelerated in that more activities (work, consumption, experiences) have to be compressed into a shorter timespan. In this perceptual process it is not that time

52 Julia Brannen and Ann Nilsen has become scarcer but that experience is overtaxed by expectations. As Nowotny notes, ‘the abundance of what remains to be done and the possibilities which cannot be realised far exceed what can be fitted in, however well time is organised’ (Nowotny, 1994: 133). The net effect is a fragmentation of the present and a sense of it being expanded. Everyday time is experienced as a constant sense of busyness, of never being unavailable, of always being on message, of never being fully connected and is accompanied by an intolerance of waiting (Daly, 1996). Nowotny’s concept of the ‘extended present’ is a useful one in that it suggests how the notion of planning for the future may be altered by the experience of the present. Accordingly, when changes happen so fast the future never seems to arrive or arrives before its time, the straight line to progress is broken (Nowotny, 1994). The future is, in effect, taken into the here and now. It loses its meaning in the sense that people are unable to think about the long term, much less plan for it.3 Lived experience is imprisoned in an all pervasive extended present. The extended present stresses the necessity of structuring but also the possibilities of re-structuring. It tries to diminish the uncertainties for the future by recalling cyclicality and seeking to combine it with linearity. The present is no longer interpreted merely as part of the way on a straight line leading to a future open to progress, but as part of a cyclical movement. (Nowotny, 1994: 58) This reconceptualising of time relates to ideas of the ‘risk society’ (Beck, 1992). The management of future uncertainty in one sense involves bringing it into the present. Through the conceptualisation of uncertainty as ‘risk’, in Beck’s use of the term, it becomes possible to calculate and therefore control uncertainty (Adam, 1990; Beck, 1992). By contrast, Sennett’s reference to ‘risk’, mentioned above, involves the opposite of this; risk means losing control because past experiences are seen to be ‘no guide to the present’. Moreover, as Bauman (1998a and b) suggests, not all groups of people are equally able to manage risk and take control of their lives. Access to resources of space and time are differentiated and are shaped by relationships to the labour market. For those with access to the world of work, and for those outside it, space and time become transformed into qualitatively different types of resources. Thus those in the ‘first world’ – the world of work – live in time, albeit they feel constantly short of it, while space is not important to them because they can transcend it. In contrast, those in the ‘second world’ – the world without work – are constrained by the space they inhabit and have an excess of time (Bauman, 1998b: 88–9). Uncertain futures Thus it is argued that, in terms of the way people think about the world, the links between the future, present and past are no longer understood as having a linear or chronological relation to one another (Harvey, 1990; Nowotny, 1994; Adam,

Young people’s perspectives on the future 53 1995; Bauman, 1998a and b). The March of Time towards a certain future, defined in terms of hoped-for Progress (Ferrarotti, 1985; Hobsbawm, 1994; Kumar, 1995), is seen as increasingly anachronistic. A shift from a linear concept of time can mean that people no longer try to predict or look ahead into the future. There is an emphasis on randomness, in having lost control over events in time, as Sennett (1998) has suggested, and no meaningful connection between the past, the present and the future. Consequently, ‘planning’ as a notion loses its meaning when it is more than a mere projection of present conditions into the immediate future (Nilsen, 1999). However, for groups whose lives are not constrained by space but who are short of time, the uncertainty of the future may constitute a risk to be calculated and controlled (Bauman, 1998b). By contrast, those with time on their hands but who are constrained by space may regard the uncertainty of the future as a threat 4 or, in Sennett’s terms, they may view it with apprehension. Our purpose in this chapter is to begin to develop a ‘language of description’ (Bernstein, 1996) for representing and interpreting the nuances and the diversity of young people’s orientations to adulthood (which may be applied and modified in further research). The models are ideal types, in a Weberian sense, for which we provide approximating exemplifications drawn from our analysis of the main discourses we have identified in the Norwegian and British focus-group discussions. Moreover, these discourses should not necessarily be seen as being mutually exclusive. Based on the theoretical framework as set out in Chapter 3, we are suggesting that any conclusion that there has been a wholesale movement away from the standardised biography towards the choice biography is problematic. In our view, this conclusion is rather simplistic and fails to capture the processual, dynamic nature of orientations. Rather, we suggest there is considerable diversity in the ways in which young people conceptualise and consider their futures. This variation derives from young people’s present perspectives as they relate to particular life-course phases and ‘moments’ which young people are in the process of negotiating, and the ways in which their expectations are shaped by their gender, ethnicity and educational and other resources, for example related to the social class of their families of origin. The latter can only be hinted at, as our data are based upon focus-group discussions in which it was not appropriate to explore young people’s social-class origins. Thus, while it is clear that young people are reflexive agents who negotiate their own pathways into adulthood, their agency continues to be shaped by structural influences (Roberts et al., 1994).

The model of deferment: living in the present – keeping the future at bay Many of the younger groups in the study (the 18- to 20-year-olds), that is, those who were on vocational training courses and in higher education, emphasised present options, possibilities and constraints which competed for their time and

54 Julia Brannen and Ann Nilsen attention. This emphasis is in some ways unsurprising. It reflects young people’s location in the life course – they have yet to complete their current training and education and have not yet gained the qualifications which, in Norway and the UK, are increasingly essential in order to gain entry into employment. It also reflects a social construction of youth as a time for friends and a time of leisure and lifestyle opportunities. This ‘extended present orientation’ is also clearly evident among young people in training in the other countries, including similar groups of young men, although, as we shall indicate, not among all groups of young people in training. One such discussion took place among a group of six young Norwegian women aged between 18 and 20 who were training to be hairdressers, tailors and goldsmiths. This model of thinking about time is present among some groups of university students, although there is also evidence of other orientations. In the focus-group discussion, the young Norwegian women spoke very much from a present-time perspective as young people rather than adults, stressing the importance of living their lives now, in the immediate present, in order to enjoy themselves and try out a range of possibilities. They do not want to think too much about the future and adulthood; in particular they do not yet want to take on family responsibilities. They associate the notion of responsibility with adulthood, a life-course phase they see as being ‘far in the future’. Yet, at the same time, they make assumptions that adulthood will resemble the current lives of their parents. Future adulthood is envisaged according to the old order, as safe and secure. For these young women, serious consideration of the future is deferred or postponed. This can be illustrated by a discussion in the focus group concerning ‘settling down’. One young Norwegian woman asserted that she had considered getting engaged to her boyfriend but had changed her mind because she said it was ‘much too soon’ and she wanted to enjoy life first: It was like, oh, I don’t know . . . it was so nice, a ring on my finger. Gee, wonderful! The girl reaction, you know! But I changed my mind fairly quickly and then we went out and had a good dinner instead of buying engagement rings. No, but you know, I realised there wasn’t any sense in it. Because I feel it’s much too soon . . . You see, you’ve got your whole life ahead of you. You’ve got all the possibilities in the world. When asked under what conditions she would consider having children, she described a situation which is non-normative in a Norwegian context, namely, marriage and a breadwinner husband (Deven et al., 1998; Skrede, 1999): ‘Then we’d have to have our own house, a job with good wages, a husband who was nice – with good wages [the latter remark was greeted with roars of laughter]. Then it would be fine.’ Clearly, the idea of wanting or finding a sole breadwinner husband was meant as a joke, that is, it was not a serious expectation. The group then went on to talk about the long-term security needed to bring up children, which was presumed to take a long time. Mindful of their current

Young people’s perspectives on the future 55 life-course phases – their continuing financial dependence on their own parents – they perceived the need for financial security, in particular in settling down and having children. Although they did not say so explicitly, they assumed that their own employment, as mothers, was necessary for this: ‘A good job and a good income and feel oneself secure in one’s own life.’ Clearly, for these young women, the normative basis for family life was for each family member to be self-supporting, for women as for men: ‘If you can’t support yourself, then how on earth can you manage to support a child?’ However, when the interviewer asked the group if they were to acquire good jobs and good wages now, would they consider having a child, the young women expressed a clear wish to defer the decision to the distant future. As one girl said: No, not right away . . . I’m talking about the future, way ahead in the future. No, I couldn’t think of having a child now. It wouldn’t be me. I couldn’t imagine doing that now . . . In ten years time, I don’t know. At which point a second girl joined in and suggested that combining employment with looking after children would be very stressful. She was also mindful of the short-termist and pressurised nature of the current labour market in this next comment: ‘Yes, remember the average age of a hairdresser is about 30. After that they give up on account of being worn out . . . I’m going to wait a good while before I think about children.’ In accordance with our earlier discussion of time, these young women’s present time perspectives focused upon enjoying the extended period of youth and reflecting the theme of the ‘extended present’. They view adulthood as a phase reserved for the distant future, a phase which they assume will resemble their parents’ lives. Yet there is a certain ambivalence when these young women talk about the future. They give the impression of being very clear about wanting security when they ‘eventually’ settle down and start a family. At the same time, they seem to want to keep the future and adulthood – in so far as it entails family responsibilities – at bay for as long as possible. They consider their parents’ lives to be ‘boring’ and ‘routine’ in contrast with their own present lives as young people, which they consider ought to be full of possibilities, variety and excitement. X: Y:

I’m never gonna live the same kind of life as my mother. I’ll travel a lot – have the freedom to do things. [The others agree] I think people in their forties live boring lives – all is routine. Do the same thing every day, and do it because you must, you have to. Go to work because you have to.

The following reflective comment (by Z) suggests that she sees the present and the future in these terms because she is currently ‘still so young’. Moreover, the normative notion of youth to which she subscribes is a period in which young people are ‘supposed’ to experiment – to try out ‘all the fun things’. She suggests

56 Julia Brannen and Ann Nilsen that they must do this in the prescribed order, that is before they proceed to adulthood, which they characterise in oppositional terms – as a time of ‘cares and responsibility’, contrasted with youth as a time of ‘fun and freedom’. At the same time as suggesting a normative ordering of life-course phases, she perceives a risk in leaving the future to take care of itself; as X, quoted below, observed: ‘Nobody knows the future.’ Z:

X:

Maybe we think like this because we’re still so young. We might see it differently when we get older. When we have experienced all the ‘fun’ things, we might not find them much fun anymore, perhaps we think our parents have a boring time because they’ve done all that and are finished with it. I’m not saying we’ll end up like they are, but we never know, do we? We might become like that eventually. Nobody knows the future. We can imagine it, hope for something different, wish it, yet we never know, do we?

A group of 18-year-old British women who, like the young Norwegian women, were also on training schemes pursuing business studies and word-processing courses, talked about the future in a rather similar way to the Norwegian group. They described their present lives as packed with immediate concerns, including gaining qualifications, ‘decent jobs’, living alone, and going round the world. They regarded having children as something very much for the long term. However, they see their life course as shaped by their female gender; they assume that they will have children eventually. Yet, they also speak as non-gendered entrants into the labour market. They talk about the need to gain ‘good jobs’; one young woman refers to ‘career jobs’ even though she (and the others in the group) had left school at 16. These aspirations are combined with other lifecourse-specific and ‘youthful’ aspirations, notably living alone and travelling. S:

But I do want a career job but at the moment I’m not really interested in children or anything like that. I’m too selfish. G: I want to get myself a good job, make sure I make the best of what I can, with a career, and then maybe later on think about having children. But at the moment I wouldn’t dream of having them. N: Um, well, I’ve got a job. Stay at home a couple of years. After that I’ll probably go and live out on my own. Wouldn’t mind travelling for about 18 months round the world. That’s an idea I have . . . I don’t have any interest in having kids before I’m 25. Focus-group moderator: What sort of age do you think would be a good idea to have children? A: About 32. Z: About 50! [(Laughter] Both these groups of young British and Norwegian women seemed convinced that, at a later life-course phase, they would gain the necessary means and

Young people’s perspectives on the future 57 conditions to lead a secure and settled life as ‘proper’ adults. Both groups see getting into the labour market and gaining good jobs as their current project. For these young women, the short term is all-encompassing. The fact that the young women who had relatively low educational levels saw their immediate future in these terms is perhaps surprising; if they had been young men, their strong labour-market orientations would have been assumed. However, the long term is taken for granted and assumed to resemble the old, predictable, settled order of ‘proper’ adulthood. These young women have yet to confront the possibility that there may be contradictions between their non-gendered identities as workers and their gendered identities as mothers. They do not think very far ahead in time and leave the future for the morrow. They speak about embracing adulthood when they are ‘ready’; they are unclear when this will be, exactly. They think about their futures as adults as an abstraction and, when trying to envisage them, they think in terms of their parents’ lives, especially their mothers’. As in all orientations, gender is relevant but it is not all-encompassing. Rather, what we wish to emphasise is that the focus on the extended present means that these young people in training and education are deferring planning for the future, hence the ‘model of deferment’.

The model of adaptability: a contingency mentality Some young people did discuss the future in more concrete terms and viewed the future as more malleable and contingent. To some extent they also reflect the discourse of the extended present in their current concern with opportunities and personal lifestyle options. But they also saw themselves as having the possibility to forge the future, shaping it in short steps and making the necessary adaptations as they went along. Thereby they sought to construct pathways into adulthood. This model is illustrated by the discussions of a focus group of five Norwegian university students, four women and one man aged between 20 and 25. Reflecting the demarcated routes to different types of qualifications and jobs in Norway, the students who studied a variety of subjects were more confident than the British university students that they would eventually find jobs which would satisfy them. Compared with the groups of young people who subscribed to a discourse of deferring thinking about the future discussed above, these young people were in higher education. (They resemble the ‘trend-setters’ in the study by du BoisReymond, 1998.) Given that a university education is more likely to lead to higher-status jobs than vocational training and that at the time the Norwegian economy was stronger than the economy of the UK (late 1990s), the Norwegian students seemed to take for granted that they would get ‘good jobs’ in the future. A major concern for these young people seemed to be considering the ‘ins and outs’ of taking a permanent job. For example, one young Norwegian woman worried about the restriction a permanent job would have upon a major aspiration of youth, namely the desired state of remaining mobile: ‘then I may

58 Julia Brannen and Ann Nilsen not be so mobile as I’d have been if I’d gone around taking temporary jobs’. However, the group appeared to reach a consensus that permanent jobs were not necessarily a signal for the state of adulthood – ‘settling down’ and starting a family: No, I see it more that in that way you’ll get security, that’s what I meant. In a way you can calm down a bit. You know, if you’re studying then you’re going round all the time with that feeling that things are . . . er . . . well, insecure and that. I could fancy a permanent job, so as, as it were, not to have to be bothered with that. But I don’t think it’s specially got to do with family, not to do with that, you see. In the next part of the discussion, the young Norwegian women went on to emphasise the discourse of ‘choice’, a key reason for going to university in the first place, and the right to choose to change jobs in order to find satisfaction and excitement through their work. To some extent this reflects the expectations of the young women in the first model of deferment, who were also highly orientated towards getting ‘good jobs’. But the discussions of the Norwegian university students refer to negotiating ways through the labour market following the first job rather than simply landing the first ‘good job’. These young women’s orientations reflect their older age but more importantly their greater resources compared with those in the model of deferment. C:

E:

D:

Because the reason I’m studying is that I want to have the opportunity to choose. Right now . . . a lot of people who are working and who’ve worked for 25 years and they’ve still got the same job, and start getting cheesed off . . . So you’ve got a chance to – well, get a job somewhere else. Even if you don’t do it, you’re free to do it, and you know you can. And you’ve also got – choices. If I could choose then I’d like to be able to change my employment when I got tired of it, but you don’t always have offers coming at the right moment – you can’t just . . . It depends a lot on what kind of job it is. I mean, if you’ve got a job which has a lot of routine in it, then it’s obvious it’d be exciting to change it after 20 years, but if you’ve got a job with a lot of variety and it’s very varied, then you most likely don’t have that need.

At this point the discussion takes a different turn, focusing on the conditions for having children and the problem for Norwegian students of the great length of university education. But like things are today most people, or anyway many people, are taking a long time in education. And so if everyone was going to wait until they’d finished their studies they’d have to wait quite a long time. And of course

Young people’s perspectives on the future 59 there’s lots of people who want to have children before they’re thirty – There are a lot of people who’ve got higher education so if you want to plan everything it’ll be neither one thing nor the other. This is where gender explicitly enters into the discussion. As several comments from the young women suggest, there are considerable dilemmas for women about the timing of having children because of ‘the biological clock ticking away’, as one put it. However, the young women were torn about ‘doing a lot of other things first’ before having children, and they concluded that having children does not necessarily put a stop to being young and ‘running wild’. These young women envisage juggling their different identities simultaneously; they seek to keep their options open. Focus-group moderator: How will it be when you’ve finished ‘running wild’? E: You can say that again! I’m sure it’s just that people assume that they are going to finish with it. C: Of course it is not so sure people want to either. [Agreement] E: I think it is a trap which a lot of people fall into, stuff like, now we’re parents of small children, and so we’ve got to stay at home and protect the children against the rest of the world . . . it’s an ideal, cut out all ties, or, not all but a lot of ties, and just concentrate on that. You forget lots of the interests you had before, I’ve seen it several times. The comparable groups of female British students and female employed graduates did not articulate the same sense of mastery and control in relation to negotiating their preferred labour-market possibilities as the Norwegian groups. This is not surprising, given the difficulties in recent years of some British students in finding ‘graduate type’ jobs (Shavit and Müller, 1998) and also high levels of perceived job insecurity, especially among professional workers (Burchell et al., 1999) and among full-time working parents (Cully et al., 1999). However, some talked about negotiating future ways of reconciling employment with having children, notably expressing the traditional female preference for working part-time if and when they became mothers (a few young men also said this), while other young people questioned having children at all. Some young British men and women also emphasised the importance of ‘couple compacts’ in managing both jobs and children, reflecting the individualised and familial solutions of British childcare and the absence of an infrastructure of public childcare. In general, the discourse of ‘individual choice’ was articulated, at least normatively speaking, in relation to having to navigate individual routes through the labour market. However, young people also made reference to what they saw to be the temporary, insecure nature of much of the employment open to them (Lewis et al., 1998). Under this model, young people saw the future in terms of trying out different occupations and assumed that they would have a wide range of jobs to choose

60 Julia Brannen and Ann Nilsen from. Their attitude to work was that if they did not like one job, then they could always find a different one and draw upon different qualifications and skills. They want the option to be mobile and flexible to be left open, since they fear ‘getting stuck’ in a job. At some point they want to settle down but do not see this as ruling out continuing to enjoy ‘being young’. One reason for this in Norway may be the widespread cultural acceptance and public support for combining employment and childcare responsibilities in that country. As in the last model (the deferment model), the young women expressed a strong orientation towards employment. However, unlike the young women in the last model, they are thinking about the future in a gendered way, notably their concern about the female ‘biological clock ticking away’. While to some extent the white British students in higher education also see the future as contingent and dependent upon their own adaptability and flexibility, their emphasis is less on mastering their routes through the labour market and more on negotiating its vagaries. Like their Norwegian counterparts, the young British women were aware of having to make decisions in the longer term about having children (Norwegian university students tend to stay longer in higher education than British students). But, unlike the Norwegians, they were aware that they would have to rely upon their own resources and create their own solutions in the context of little public support for childcare. On balance, for the groups in this model, the future is a challenge which they believe they can master. In Bauman’s terms they are ‘tourists’ who, in contrast to the ‘vagabonds’, wish to experience life, both socially and literally, as free from the constraints of place (Bauman, 1998b).

The model of predictability: striving in the long term for security By contrast, some young people had a clear, long-term view of their future adulthood which they saw as relatively certain and secure as long as they worked hard to attain their long-term goals. The two focus-group discussions we draw upon here have similar viewpoints. In contrast to the groups in the adaptability model, these are the true planners. They look to the long term, firmly within the framework of what we have called ‘the model of predictability’, and they expect to remain within their chosen field of occupation throughout their lives. Significantly, both groups we have identified are male. Their views reflect the old malebreadwinner ideologies: in one case, the desire of second-generation sons of first-generation families of British-Asian origin to ‘make it’ into the middle-class professions and, in the other case, the aspirations of Norwegian working-class young men to continue to find skilled work in the male-dominated heavy industries of their fathers’ generation. The first group consists of four young British-Asian men, aged 18–19, who were in their first year of studying law at university. These young people were from families where great importance was attached to education and study. Moreover, as children of first-generation migrants, these young men of Asian

Young people’s perspectives on the future 61 origin expected to make their way in the world and to improve upon their own parents’ economic situations. They expected to do so not only for their own sakes but for the sake of the family to whom they felt bound by familial obligation. As sons, they expected and were expected to provide for their parents and to marry wives who would care for their husbands’ parents. In this next focusgroup extract, the young men discuss the reasons why they had chosen to study law at university. The focus-group moderator posed the initial question in terms of personal choice. While the young men of Asian origin appeared to agree that they had decided on their own careers, they also referred to strong parental influence. They clearly sought to conform to norms concerning the desirability of upward mobility whereby education would lead to a remunerative professional occupation. N:

Parents tend to push us toward professions like law or medicine although you do have a say in it . . . But like if you wanted to do something like, you know, something not so high status – like a shopkeeper or something like that – they’ll take you away from that. They say ‘This is the good point about law.’ They’ll tell you about the salary and all that and so make you want to do law. Focus-group moderator: What about the rest of you? Has this been the same? A: No. Basically it was my own choice but of course there was a lot of guidance, especially in Asian families. They are the centre of the community. It’s actually very, you know, close knit . . . Maybe money and everything is a factor. Basically you are guided to professions where it’s easier, you know, and the status . . . Focus-group moderator: So it’s your own choice but you have been directed in that avenue? [Agreement] R: The same thing happened to me. My dad wanted me to be a solicitor. That’s why I came to this side of things. A: Education is always there while I am growing up . . . You know your family is always there and education, culture, identity, religion and perhaps social friendships. The model of predictability also to some extent fits a group of five Norwegian shipyard-workers, who ranged in age between 19 and 22 and who were still in vocational training. They described how they had been encouraged by their families, their fathers in particular, to gain formal training and qualifications which had not been available to their fathers when they were young. These young men were concerned about the competitiveness of the labour market, which they contrasted with the ease with which their own fathers had gained jobs at the same age. They felt that education and formal skills would make for a more secure future. Yet, while they appeared very aware of the changing world of employment, they saw their future family lives as clearly laid down and as more or less the same as their own parents’ lives.

62 Julia Brannen and Ann Nilsen Focus-group moderator: How about when you reach the same age as your parents are today? D: Me, I think it will be the same, well not quite. – I’m thinking about when I’m 40 to 50 then I’ll probably have a house and a mortgage and – well, this and that and kids and . . . When asked under what conditions they would consider starting a family, they all agreed that security in the sense of having a steady income to support the family was the most important precondition. C: E:

[a regular job] means a regular income. It’s a security. You’ve usually got responsibilities for loans and things like that . . . and it’s better to have a regular job every day so you can meet your financial obligations, to support yourself and maybe a family.

One young man (E) referred to the old breadwinner model when he said: ‘It’s a pattern we’ve had for hundreds of years, you get a family and kids and you’re the breadwinner and – (laughter from the rest of the group) yes, but that’s how it is! My grandfather was in fishing, my great-grandfather was in fishing and – supported the family at home, that’s simply the way it used to be!’ The discussion among these young men was premised upon the normative situation in Norway in which both parents are expected to be in employment when children are young (around 80 per cent of mothers with ‘dependent’ children are employed in Norway) (Deven et al., 1998). Yet their expectations of family life were in some respects highly traditional. With the widespread provision of public childcare, they saw it as desirable that their children should attend nursery, but not before they were ‘old enough’. When asked who should look after the child before that time, they took it more or less for granted that the mother should stay at home. Both the British and Norwegian groups of young men made distinctions between different phases in the life course. Unlike the groups in the other two models, they do not make a strong distinction between ‘being young’ and adulthood. Both were confident that they will, at some fairly predictable time in the future, get married and start a family ‘just like everyone else’. A secure job, a permanent contract and ‘good’ wages and salaries were seen as the preconditions for this to happen and as a progression rather than a leap from youth to adulthood. (Some of the Norwegian shipyard-workers were already saving to buy a house, itself indicative of a long-term view of the future and a progressive route to adulthood.) They expect their lives to follow the same sequences as those of their parents. Both groups share in common the desire to be ‘providers’ for their families. Even if their partners are likely to be in employment, their clear sense of responsibility stems from being part of a strong male tradition in their sphere of employment and their family lives, which is reflected in their general views of what life will be like as adults. In this, they are ‘expectant’ rather than ‘apprehensive’ about the future (Sennett, 1998).

Young people’s perspectives on the future 63

Concluding discussion In this analysis, we have chosen to focus upon time, a facet of social experience which has been much neglected in empirical research. We have suggested that young people vary in how they think about time – in particular in relation to their present condition of being young and the way they envisage adulthood in the future. We have put forward three ideal-typical ways which we have identified in, and applied to, our material. Other models remain to be identified and analysed. In the model of deferment, we have presented a critical case of how younger young women (illustrated by two groups on vocational training courses) consider adulthood in vaguer, more abstract terms than the young people characterised by the other two models. These young women live very much in the present and orientate themselves to their present status as ‘young people’ and towards the ‘extended present’ opportunities provided for ‘being young’. In so far as they take a longer-term view, they make assumptions about adulthood according to the old order which is based upon an unquestioning acceptance that it will resemble their parents’ lives. They assume, though, that ‘some day’ they will eventually settle down, but not yet. They manage this by drawing a clear line between being young and being adult. They think about the immediate future in terms of getting into work. As we have shown, a strong work orientation was expressed in discussions of the groups of young women in both the UK and Norway who had relatively low levels of education and qualifications. In their focus on the entry into work, their discussions do not refer explicitly to gender. Rather, gender emerges when they talk about adulthood, albeit vaguely. But rather than think about how, as young women, they are going to reconcile employment with motherhood (a more difficult process in the UK than in Norway), their current reference-point for these young women is the lives of their mothers, which they do not wish to replicate. In ‘the model of adaptability’ we have suggested that some young people view the future as a risk to be calculated and controlled, and perhaps even as a positive challenge. These young people take one step at a time and try to ensure they are equipped to deal with a future which they see to be constantly changing, which requires them to adapt. These young people (illustrated by a group of female Norwegian university students) expect to be able to try out different types of jobs before they ‘settle down’, and are adamant that they do not want to get stuck in ‘boring jobs’. For the young Norwegian women, the future brings challenges which they feel confident they will master. They are expectant rather than apprehensive about the future, and they believe that it is ‘up to them’ what they make of it. They perceive few constraints arising from their status as women. However, when discussing family responsibilities and the timing in the life course when they intend to have children, young women were concerned about not deferring the birth of children indefinitely. This was especially the case for the Norwegian students who spend a long time in education (compared with UK students) and so enter the labour market late; on the other hand it is not

64 Julia Brannen and Ann Nilsen uncommon for students in Norway to have children during their university courses. In the male groups generally, there is a singular lack of concern about any problems they might encounter as fathers. In contrast to Norway, we noted that the British students were more concerned about the insecurity of the labour market, but also that they would subscribe to notions of ‘individual choice’ including the management of their employment and family careers, if and when they became parents. The model of predictability was illustrated by two groups of young men whose orientations are not dissimilar to ‘traditional’ male-breadwinner ideologies and old assumptions about ‘jobs for life’. Both groups viewed their lives as set on clearly charted courses. Far from constructing individualised pathways into adulthood, and rather than expecting to make short-term plans according to changing circumstances, the young British-Asian men were collectively following a route into highly remunerative professions (assumed to be ‘safe’) in the knowledge that they have behind them the support and aspirations of their first-generation migrant parents and communities. The Norwegian shipyardworkers were influenced by their traditional working-class backgrounds and by their fathers’ working lives. They took pride in their skills and competence in their chosen vocation. This does not mean that they did not think in terms of choices and opportunities but, rather than seeing these as being of their own making, for them adulthood is embedded in collective male traditions and a clearly scheduled, standardised life course. Interestingly, they did not see a great leap between youth and adulthood. The developing literature on concepts of time has provided a useful framework for interpreting our empirical material: it has helped to provide ‘a language of description’ (Bernstein, 1996) which differentiates the experiences of young people. As other writers have pointed out, Bauman and Sennett in particular, current economic trends point towards a situation where only the best qualified will have the opportunity to make plans for the future. To live only in the present is to be its prisoner, as Sennett (1998) observes. Following this line of thinking, the ‘discourse of choice’ is likely to be prominent among particular groups: among the relatively privileged young whose education is likely to lead to ‘better’ career opportunities, while among the other groups, the old order of collectivism prevails. Moreover, diversity is not random. As Bauman’s thesis suggests, in a society where individualism and choice are a dominant motif, the privileged stand a better chance of being the choosers. Those who have followed more traditional patterns, who have a strong sense of belonging to traditions which offer a well-trodden route into adulthood, are less inclined to see their futures in terms of individual choice and as a risk to be taken and a challenge to be conquered (social-class traditions are also relevant here). Two groups of young men we have discussed – Norwegian shipyard-workers and British-Asian lawyers-to-be – may not, at face value, appear to have much in common. But they share a common perspective in the tradition of the ‘male breadwinner’; they hold a long-term perspective on the future and they plan accordingly. It is perhaps ironic that the only young people in the study for

Young people’s perspectives on the future 65 whom the notion ‘life as a planning project’ may be truly apt are those who aspire to be male breadwinners. Even if there are elements of planning in the discussions of the other groups, these are projections of the present or ‘extended present’. In that sense their plans are not strictly plans, but rather courses of action upon which individuals are already set (Nilsen, 1999). In other words, the notion of ‘life as a planning project’ is less appropriately applied to those who envisage the future in terms of choices and options. Rather, a planning project involves a long-term perspective which is associated with those whose lives are embedded in established collectivist traditions and conform to traditional male biographies. Imposing a dichotomy upon young people’s lives in terms of either the ‘choice biography’ or the ‘standard biography’ is too simplistic. Our argument is that the way young people navigate the transition to adulthood is influenced by their perception and experience of time and that the notion of young people’s agency in terms of planning and making choices, which is so prevalent in the theoretical literature, has ignored this important dynamic. There are many factors shaping these time orientations which, as our analysis suggests, are likely to change as young people construct their pathways into and through adulthood. These include: the opportunity structures of education and training, which have implications for employment aspirations and patterns; the influence of gender – as girls weigh up the contingencies of the biological clock, negotiate gendered identities both with reference to changing gender opportunities and role models offered by their mothers and fathers; youth lifestyle and consumption opportunities and cultural constructions of what it means to be young; changing maps of social-class meanings and designations; and the influence of ‘race’ and ethnicity. In this study, it was neither our intention nor was it possible to disentangle the relative importance of this complex of factors. Indeed, we would argue that the complex of material, social, cultural and discursive resources available (or not) to young people, together with the way young people orientate themselves in and to time, are germane to young people’s construction of their identities and to their navigation of trajectories from youth to adulthood in a changing world. Young people both construct their own lives (in increasingly self-conscious ways) and feel ownership in their construction, while their lives are framed by material, social and space contingencies (Ball et al., 2000). As we have attempted to show, how young people view their futures needs to be seen through the lens of the dual epistemology of agency and structure or, as Roberts et al. (1994) have termed it, ‘structured individualisation’ (our emphasis).

Notes 1 See also Brannen and Nilsen (2001). 2 The term ‘risk’ has a somewhat different meaning in Sennett’s analyses than in Beck’s (1992). Sennett draws on theories of probability calculation, and the ‘regression to the mean’ in any set of random events, meaning that any previous event has no impact on future events; all events are isolated, one cannot predict the outcome of one event from any previous event, as in the roll of a dice (Sennett, 1998).

66 Julia Brannen and Ann Nilsen 3 See also a parallel study, based on individual interviews with young Norwegian men and women, for a conceptual discussion on different ways of thinking of the future in terms of planning (Nilsen, 1999). 4 Beck (1996) uses the notion of ‘threat’ to describe phenomena that cannot be conceptualised by the term risk, such as nuclear disasters, since they are beyond any measures of calculation and control.

References Adam, Barbara (1990) Time and Social Theory, Cambridge: Polity Press. Adam, Barbara (1995) Timewatch: The Social Analysis of Time, Cambridge: Polity Press. Ball, S. J., Maguire, M. and Macrae (2000) ‘Space, work and the new urban economies’, Journal of Youth Studies, 3(3): 279–300. Bauman, Zygmunt (1998a) Globalization: The Human Consequences, Cambridge: Polity Press. Bauman, Zygmunt (1998b) Work, Consumerism and the New Poor, Buckingham: Open University Press. Beck, Ulrich (1992) Risk Society: Towards a New Modernity, London: Sage. Beck, Ulrich (1994) ‘The reinvention of politics: towards a theory of reflexive modernisation’, in Ulrich Beck, Anthony Giddens and Scott Lash, Reflexive Modernization: Politics, Tradition and Aesthetics in the Modern Social Order, Cambridge: Polity Press. Beck, Ulrich and Elisabeth Beck-Gernsheim (1995) The Normal Chaos of Love, Cambridge: Polity Press. Beck-Gernsheim, Elisabeth (1996) ‘Life as a planning project’, in Scott Lash, Szerszynski Bronislaw and Brian Wynne (eds) Risk, Environment and Modernity: Towards a New Ecology, London: Sage. Bernstein, B. (1996) Pedagogy, Symbolic Control and Identity: Theory, Research, Critique, London: Taylor and Francis. Bertaux, Daniel (1981) ‘From the life history approach to the transformation of sociological practice’, in D. Bertaux (ed.) Biography and Society: The Life History Approach in the Social Sciences, London: Sage Publications. Brannen, J., Moss, P., Owen, C. and Wale, C. (1997) Mothers, Fathers and Employment: Parents and the Labour Market in Britain 1984–1994, London: Department for Education and Employment. Brannen, J. and Moss, P. (1998) ‘The polarization and intensification of parental employment in Britain: consequences for children, families and the community’, Community, Work and Family, 1(3): 229–47. Brannen, J. and Nilsen, A. (in press 2001) ‘Young people’s time perspectives: from youth to adulthood’, Sociology. Brannen, J. and Smithson, J. (1998) ‘Concilialcao entre o trabalho e os filhos: perspectivas de futuro para jovens de cinco paises’, Sociologia: Problemsas e Pràticas, 27: 11–27. Buchmann, Marlis (1989) The Script of Life in Modern Society: Entry into Adulthood in a Changing World, Chicago: The University of Chicago Press. Burchell, B., Day, D., Hudson, M., Lapido, D., Mankelow, R., Nolan, J., Reed, H., Wichert, C. and Wilkinson, F. (1999) Job Insecurity and Work Intensification, York: Joseph Rowntree Foundation. Du Bois Reymond, M. (1998) ‘ “I don’t want to commit myself yet”: young people’s life concepts’, Journal of Youth Studies, 1(1): 63–79. Cully, M., Woodland, S., O’Reilly, Dix, G. (1999) Britain at Work: as Depicted by the 1998 Workplace Employee Relations Survey, London: Routledge.

Young people’s perspectives on the future 67 Daly, K. (1996) ‘Families and time: keeping pace in a hurried culture’, London: Sage. Davies, Karen (1989) Women and Time: Weaving the Strands of Everyday Life, Lund: University of Lund Press. Deven, F., Inglis, S., Moss, P. and Petrie, P. (1998) ‘A state of the art review on the reconciliation of work and family life for men and women and the quality of care services’, Norwich: Her Majesty’s Stationery Office. Elder, Glen (1985) ‘Perspectives on the life course’, in G. Elder (ed.) Life-Course Dynamics: Trajectories and Transitions 1968–1980, Ithaca, NY, and London: Cornell University Press. European Commission (1997) Youth in the European Union: From Education to Working Life, Luxembourg: European Commission, Office for Official Publications of the European Communities, L–2985. Ferrarotti, Franco (1985) The Myth of Inevitable Progress, Westport, CT: Greenwood Press. Furlong, Andy and Fred Cartmel (1997) Young People and Social Change: Individualization and Risk in Late Modernity, Buckingham: Open University Press. Giddens, Anthony (1991) Modernity and Self-Identity: Self and Society in the Late Modern Age, Cambridge: Polity Press. Giddens, Anthony (1994) ‘Living in a post-traditional society’, in Ulrich Beck, Anthony Giddens and Scott Lash, Reflexive Modernization: Politics, Tradition and Aesthetics in the Modern Social Order, Cambridge: Polity Press. Gronmo, Sigmund (1989) ‘Concepts of time’, Norwegian Yearbook of Sociology, 1. Harvey, David (1990) The Condition of Postmodernity, Oxford: Blackwell. Hobsbawm, Eric (1994) Age of Extremes: The Short Twentieth Century, London: Michael Joseph. Irwin, Sarah (1995) Rights of Passage: Social Change and the Transition from Youth to Adulthood, London: UCL Press. Kumar, Krishan (1995) From Post-Industrial to Post-Modern Society: New Theories of the Contemporary World, Oxford: Blackwell. Lewis, Suzan, Smithson, Janet, Brannen, Julia, Dores Guerreiro, Maria das, Kugelberg, Clarissa, Nilsen, Ann and O’Connor, Pat (1998a) Futures on Hold: Young Europeans Talk about Work and Family, London: IOD Group. Lewis, Suzan, Janet Smithson and Julia Brannen (1998b) ‘Young Europeans: orientations to families and work’, The Annals of the American Academy of Political and Social Science, 526: 83–97. Martin, J. and Roberts, C. (1984) Women and Employment: A Lifetime Perspective, London: HMSO. Mitterauer, Michael (1992) A History of Youth, Oxford: Blackwell. Nilsen, Ann (1998) ‘Forever young?: a life course approach to individualisation’, Sociologia: Problemas e Práticas, 27: 59–78. Nilsen, Ann (1999) ‘Where is the future?: time and space as categories in the analysis of young people’s images of the future’, Innovation: European Journal of the Social Sciences, 12(2): 175–94. Nowotny, Helga (1994) Time: The Modern and Postmodern Experience, Cambridge: Polity Press. Pleck, J. (1977) ‘The work-family role system’, Social Problems, 24: 417–27. Roberts, K., Clark, S. C. and Wallace, C. (1994) ‘Flexibility and individualism: a comparison of transitions into employment in England and Germany’, Sociology, 28(1): 31–55. Rogers, Rex Stainton (1997) ‘The making and moulding of modern youth: a short history’, in Youth in Society: Contemporary Theory, Policy and Practice, London: Sage.

68 Julia Brannen and Ann Nilsen Sennett, Richard (1998) The Corrosion of Character: The Personal Consequences of Work in the New Capitalism, New York: W. W. Norton. Shavit, Y. and Müller, W. (1998) From School to Work: A Comparative Study of Educational Qualifications and Occupational Destinations, Oxford: Clarendon Press. Skrede, Kari (1999) ‘Droemmen og dyden’ (‘The dream and the virtue’), in G. Birkelund, A. K. Broch-Due and A. Nilsen (eds) Ansvar og Protest: Kjoenn og Utdanning i Senmoderniteten (Responsibility and Resistance: Gender and Education in Late Modernity), University of Bergen Press, Bergen. Smithson, J. (2000) ‘Using and analysing focus groups: limitations and possibilities’, International Journal of Social Research Methodology: Theory and Practice, 3(2): 103–21.

Job insecurity and psychological contracts

5

69

Into work Job insecurity and changing psychological contracts Suzan Lewis, Janet Smithson and Clarissa Kugelberg

Introduction Today’s young people enter the contemporary labour market in what has been termed ‘a post-job-security era in the wake of downsizing and contractual flexibility’ (Tulgan, 1995). This notion of a post-job-security era assumes that in the past workers could expect to remain with one employer, exchanging hard work and loyalty for a secure income, and that job changes were usually voluntary. This reflects a male model of work (Pleck, 1977). The dominance of this model has varied across time and place and for different occupational groups, co-existing with casual and other forms of employment and self-employment. Nevertheless a secure job remains a powerful ideal for many people in the industrialised world. It is an ideal which is increasingly challenged although, contrary to popular belief, it has not disappeared completely (Guest and Conway, 1998). In the contemporary labour market employers seek ‘flexibility’ to enable them to respond to fluctuations in demands within increasingly competitive and volatile markets. The growth in flexibility has encompassed contractual workingtime and functional (task) flexibility. The drive for contractual and working-time flexibility has been associated with a growth in what were once considered to be atypical forms of employment: subcontracting, outsourcing, part-time, casual and non-permanent work across Europe (Eurostat, 1997) and, indeed, in most advanced industrialised societies. Official figures in Europe show only a slight overall increase in temporary contracts over the last decade, but younger workers are particularly likely to be affected by non-permanent employment contracts (see Table 5 in Appendix I) and are also disproportionately affected by high unemployment (European Commission, 1997). While an increase in flexible working arrangements is often thought to be associated with worker choice, the drive for increased use of non-permanent contracts has come from management, driven by perceived business imperatives (Meadows, 1996; Guest, 1998). Most employees with a temporary or fixed-term contract would prefer a permanent one (Brewster et al., 1998) even if they do not intend to remain in the job for the long term. The drive for functional flexibility, developments in technology and the so-called information economy have created the need for a highly skilled and

70 Suzan Lewis, Janet Smithson and Clarissa Kugelberg adaptable workforce. Hence the life course of some young people increasingly involves a prolonged period in education and training (as discussed in Chapter 1 and Chapter 9) and young people are likely to experience considerable uncertainty about their future employment prospects. Transitions into the labour market are, for many young people, prolonged and marked by extended periods in temporary jobs (Banks et al., 1992; Roberts and Parcell, 1992; Metcalfe, 1997). Moreover, greater emphasis is placed today upon the individual ‘navigating’ the risks of uncertainty in the labour market (Evans and Furlong, 1997). The subjective perceptions of risk and uncertainty constitute an important break with earlier transitions (Beck, 1992), although this is not necessarily to be regarded in a negative way. Young people’s current transitions into work are no longer a confirmation of earlier experiences and expectations, as they were for earlier generations (Ashton and Field, 1976) but, with the accelerating uncertainty of labour markets, they involve not only individualised routes but also increasingly difficult and complex ones (see Chapter 9). This chapter considers how risk and uncertainty feed into young people’s hopes and expectations of employment as they move into the labour market. We explore first the expectations of work among young adults preparing for and already in the labour force, with a particular focus on their discussions of flexibility and insecurity of work and what they view as the implications for their future work and personal lives. As perceptions of insecurity underpin participants’ expectations of employers we then briefly introduce the concept of the ‘psychological contract’ between employers and employees as a metaphor for expectations of the employment relationship. Finally, we move to a focus on those young people who are already in employment. The emerging sets of assumptions about, and expectations of, employers among these groups are then discussed in relation to a ‘new psychological contract’.

What do young people want from work? When asked what young people expect from work, now or in the future, participants discussed economic and social outcomes, fair treatment and quality of life, and some forms of security. A regular income was a major concern for all young people after education, and for those already in work and on a low income, pay was the most important factor in a job. This instrumental approach is viewed by most as a short-term expediency, with interesting and challenging work equally or more important in the long term. Many of the younger groups prioritise earnings in current jobs in order to fund travel, pay off student debts or for other activities; a ‘good job’ is a more distant prospect. Adequate pay is also related to independence from parents, particularly in Portugal where most of the young people who live with their parents long to find a steady job and have their own place. Although most consider other factors to be equally or more important than pay, income is considered to be the most important factor by those young men who perceive themselves as current or future providers for families. For example,

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an Irish hotel manager states: ‘I need money to do my bit and feed my wife’, although his wife is employed. In Portugal the male construction workers are the most traditional, stressing their need to earn money to buy the things women want in the home. The male British-Asian students also say that money, and status which they perceive as strongly linked to income, are the most important factors in the long term. But this is linked to a strong traditional family ideology, with emphasis on the male role as providers for future families and for their parents. Nevertheless, the ideal for the majority of men and women in all the countries is to be in a position where money is not the sole reward to be gained from work. Most anticipate that challenge and interest will be at least as important as money in the long term. Social aspects of work are also very important to young men and women and in some cases work is represented as a new source of community or even family. The Irish participants in particular talk about wanting to enjoy their work, with many of them focusing on the social elements: working with people they get on with. Along with these extrinsic and intrinsic rewards some form of security is also desired, but security (and insecurity) have many meanings.

Insecurity and uncertainty Job insecurity emerged as a strong theme in the focus groups and interviews in Britain, Ireland, Portugal and Sweden, that is, among skilled, semi-skilled and unskilled workers, students and the unemployed. For some, especially at the younger end of the age spectrum, this was a distant concern: they were content to put their futures on hold while they travelled or otherwise ‘lived their lives’ before thinking about long-term expectations. For others, in particular those with less marketable skills, or those who, whatever their age, had started to think about ‘settling down’ in long-term relationships and/or with children, job insecurity was a more immediate concern. Of the 312 focus-group participants, 18 per cent were working in permanent jobs, 17 per cent in temporary jobs, while 13 per cent were unemployed and 52 per cent were university or vocational students. So those in employment were as likely to be in ‘secure’ as in ‘insecure’ jobs. However, there is an important distinction between objective job insecurity (e.g. temporary work) and subjective insecurity, that is, a sense of perceived impermanence which may or may not be related to objective indicators of security (Sengenberger, 1995). The extent of objective insecurity varies across the participating countries in this study. At the time of the study it was highest in Sweden, Ireland and Portugal (with Sweden having experienced the greatest shift from high employment and a good standard of living to a precarious labour market, as well as cuts in the welfare state) and lowest in Norway, but with younger workers disproportionately affected everywhere. However, there is much evidence of a rise in subjective insecurity even when objective insecurity is lower (Clark and Grey, 1997; Burchell, 2000) and this was evident in this study. Certainty about job and/or employer security was low among all the groups although some, especially those who were well

72 Suzan Lewis, Janet Smithson and Clarissa Kugelberg qualified, experienced higher employment security, that is, they were relatively confident that they would always be able to get a job when they wanted one. There was a range of different ‘insecure’ situations among the employed participants. Some were in ‘insecure’ but highly paid jobs such as computerprogramming contracting, where the chances of getting another contract are very high, so they had high employment security but low job security. Others were in jobs with temporary contracts but were uncertain about the chances of getting another contract (at least in the same place or without an employment gap), or a permanent post. Some were in situations where a 6-month or 12month contract could be more or less continuously renewed, others were in very precarious work. In addition, some of the people in apparently permanent jobs saw these as highly unstable, and perceived themselves to be liable to redundancy at any time. Some of the participants were thus more vulnerable to the effects of ‘precarious’ employment than others. However, issues emerged surrounding the impermanence of employment and perceived uncertainty which impacted on all the categories of young adults, including even the most highly paid and ‘secure’ of these workers. As other research has shown, even young people from privileged social backgrounds and with good qualifications frequently worry about failure and the uncertainty surrounding future events (Lucey, 1996). The employment market was generally experienced as difficult and unstable. While official measures of job insecurity often compare the situation over one decade, many of the young people compare their lives with those of their parents, who in some countries enjoyed the post war stability of high employment. A: B:

They (our parents) all had jobs when they left school. You were guaranteed a job then, you’re not guaranteed anything now. (female secretarial students)

These young people were aware of the increasingly precarious nature of the job market, and the increase in non-standard forms of working. Job security, although desired by most, at least at some stage in the future if not now, was seldom expected. As Handy (1994) predicted job insecurity is becoming a fact of life. I think that it’s the main preoccupation, and anxiety, finding a stable job, which is something that’s beginning to be very rare, or at least young people think that it’s rare. (female Portuguese student) You prefer having a permanent job but you realise that this is almost impossible now. (unemployed Swedish woman) Worry about jobs was often linked to a perception of insecurity, rather than to contract type.

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There are very few jobs that you can feel are completely secure, whether you are on a temporary contract or whether you are on a more permanent contract, nothing is really permanent. (female UK IT contract-worker)

Redefining expectations and job security There is evidence in this study that some young people are reconstructing the notion of job permanency or security and renegotiating their expectations of employers to adapt to current realities. For example, while very short-term contracts made it difficult to plan ahead, a five-year fixed-term contract was widely regarded as permanent, or ‘as permanent as it gets’. Well, I equate fixed-term contract with permanent job right now. Anything that’s secure for more than a week. (male UK web-programmer in a temporary job) When you have a secure kind of job. Secure in that you have a contract every few years rather than every 6 months, and then take out a mortgage . . . something stable like. A stable kind of life. (male Irish network administration trainee) A:

B: A:

You feel that if you get the job prolonged for another half year, that is happiness. I talked to a friend . . . she said that her workmates who are 40 to 50 years old cannot understand how one can be so happy to get an extension of a year. Yes, that’s a long time today. Yes, you probably would be even happier with a permanent job. But to get a whole year means to have security for a whole year. That is a long time compared to how it is to jump between jobs (Swedish women in temporary employment).

Temporary jobs could be experienced ‘as good as permanent’ if the young person felt he/she had high employment security. In some cases employment security depended on the perceived need for the type of work they did rather than the job contract itself (see also Quilgars and Abbott, 2000): This is really as permanent as I want it as long as business keeps up and it’s always fairly good because it’s really touristy round here. (Irish waitress, precariously employed) One way of trying to achieve some security or stability in life was by increasing individual employment security or employability. People discussed the importance of keeping their skills up to date, taking responsibility for doing this, and of

74 Suzan Lewis, Janet Smithson and Clarissa Kugelberg learning to sell themselves as they navigated the risks and uncertainties of career paths: Some of the questions about training and keeping in touch with it, you have to do that for yourself. (male UK white-collar worker) I believe that people will increasingly have to create their own jobs, that one will have to sell oneself more and more. (Swedish woman in temporary employment) However, career self-management is difficult for the less qualified and the less confident. Not everyone is the kind of person to sell themself. (unemployed Swedish woman) A theme also emerged that temporary jobs could be viewed positively, ‘keeping you on your toes’, career-wise, but this tended to be linked to the young person’s current life stage. It was more frequent among the better qualified and those in the early stages of a career path: I think if you’re in a permanent job for life you can get into a rut and just end up interested in a pension and have no ambition in your job. But I think a job where you are relatively permanent – by that I mean having your contract up for renewal every five years or so – is good because you have a measure of security and you still have to do the work. (26-year-old Irishman with an accountancy contract job in a hi-tech firm) Being on a temporary contract sort of focuses you more on what you are doing at the moment, but also makes you look beyond what you are doing at the moment to what you might like to do. (29-year-old female insecurely employed IT worker) Some of the young people with highly marketable skills in all the countries constructed this very positively in the short term at least; staying in a job or with one employer was associated with settling down, and was not desired. They felt in control and changed jobs as they wished: The really clever ones, mainly men but even women, do not choose permanent employment. They choose project based employment because this is where the money is and they are in control of their situation. (28-year-old Swedish female management consultant doing project work) Cultural values espoused by young adults, such as putting emphasis on individualised solutions and on risk (Giddens, 1990; Giddens, 1991; Beck, 1992) and a

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desire for autonomy and challenges (Wilkinson, 1994) may fit with the requirements of a more temporary job market: It must be boring to always be in the same place . . . a person doing the same thing all the time gets tired of it. (21-year-old Portuguese female computing and management student) In the groups with less marketable skills, however, particularly the unemployed groups, work was perceived as insecure whatever the type of contract. Security was desired although not expected, and, as with the highly skilled groups, jobs that provided training and experience were valued highly because they increased the chance of employability. Thus, while few entered employment with an expectation of security, some of the young people experienced the situation positively in the short term at least: staying in a job or with one employer was associated with settling down, and not desired. They felt in control and changed jobs as they wished. For others the impact was less positive. But for many in different occupational groups the timescales imposed by insecure work were out of sync with those related to other aspects of their lives and made it very difficult to foresee or plan future work and family trajectories.

Timescales imposed by insecure jobs When participants were asked to think about the future in terms of work and family it became apparent that perceived insecurity and uncertainty were imposing elastic timescales which were often acceptable at this age but created dilemmas in thinking of the future. It has been suggested that many trends among this generation in Europe, such as the longer time spent in full-time education in Europe, and the delaying of marriage and parenthood (Cooper and Jones, 1992) can be accounted for by cultural changes in expectations and individual choices (Giddens, 1990, 1991; Wilkinson, 1994). However, our study suggests that not all these changes were freely chosen by young people. As Beck and Beck-Gernsheim (1995: 40) argue, ‘individual decisions are heavily dependent on outside influences’. The deferment of life stages such as establishing a home and a secure relationship, or marriage, were presented by the participants as contingent on the chances of permanent employment, and not just as individual choices. Perceived insecurity, and difficulty of synchronising work and non-work timescales, create considerable tension in relation to a number of different life arenas.

Insecure work and thinking about future work and family Planning and ‘settling down’ Coles (1995) notes that transitions into secure work are closely related to transitions to independent living and family formation, a theme which emerged in all

76 Suzan Lewis, Janet Smithson and Clarissa Kugelberg five countries where planning life became complex because too much depended on things that were out of their control: in particular, getting a steady job (see also Chapters 4, 7 and 9): In my personal life I have concrete plans, because there is a person that I have chosen to share my life with and I would like to do it . . . and I feel that I can’t do it. I think that this decision, ironically, is dependent on things, and not on us, external things like having a house, finishing a course, starting working full-time and being financially independent and living without help from anyone. (female Portuguese student) I’d rather have a permanent job . . . begin to get established and then if I take a loan I can be sure I’ll be able to repay it. (Norwegian woman in vocational training) The need to have a secure income when considering ‘settling down’, especially concerning budgeting, planning ahead and buying a house, was frequently mentioned. Some security of employment was perceived as necessary for anyone with financial and other commitments. Getting mortgages and other loans is difficult on temporary contracts. Conflicting timescales are absolute in relation to housebuying: Q: W:

So you’re on short-term contracts? Yeah, and most of the people I know are on short-term contracts, so you plan it so, . . . you couldn’t plan it for 6 or 12 months at a time, which I think is a little bit scary because I’m just buying a house at the moment, and then there’s someone saying 25 years, and that’s just not in our timescale (male UK lecturer).

Some banks and building societies adapt to the needs of contract-workers, but the sense of insecurity is strong and generates a certain amount of anxiety. And banks are not changing everywhere. In Portugal people must prove that they have a regular and sufficient income to be able to borrow money and this makes house buying and moving away from dependence on their parents very difficult (see Chapter 9): We (need) jobs to support ourselves, so that we don’t have to depend on our parents and in order to keep ourselves. (male Portuguese vocational student) It becomes difficult to plan ahead, not just because these young adults do not want to plan ahead, but because it is not perceived as possible in this employment situation. The deferment of life stages such as establishing a home and a

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secure relationship, or marriage, are thus presented as contingent on the chances of permanent employment, and not just as individual choices. Becoming a parent A particular concern for many of the young people was the uncertainty of becoming a parent in a financially unstable situation: I feel ready to have children now, but I wouldn’t have children without a secure income, and that scares me, because all the jobs I want are on 2-year contracts. It just doesn’t work out. (male UK physicist) Swedish women in precarious employment were particularly concerned that having a child would impede their job-seeking if they were not in permanent employment: to enter the labour market saying that I have a little baby at home would be like smashing your head into the wall. It’s not realistic. (Swedish woman in precarious employment) Some women, and also some men, alluded to the underlying notion of the ‘biological clock’ limiting how long they could defer having children (see also Chapter 7). People . . . think they ought to wait, and they want to be in a job and have a house and . . . a home and a dog and the whole package, car too . . . but what’s, the female partner knows there’s a little clock ticking, which says that if you want to have more than one then you must begin soon. (25-year-old female Norwegian student) Five years from now all of us will be past 30, our son will be 10 years old when we reach 40 or 50? Our biological clock is ticking. (25-year-old male Portuguese construction-worker) The extent of the supposed stability and continuity which feature so prominently in the notion of traditional ‘jobs for life’ has always varied over time, in different sectors, and been more a feature of men’s than women’s lives. If this features in the discussions among these young adults it is mainly as ‘a thing of the past’, not an expectation that they bring to the current employment relationship. The changing model of the employment relationship is not necessarily regarded negatively by the young people; indeed it is often viewed as a challenge. They accept individualised career paths and responsibilities for managing their own careers, but concern about longer-term job insecurity together with the decline in trust

78 Suzan Lewis, Janet Smithson and Clarissa Kugelberg of employers increases the complexity, risk and uncertainty of the transition to adulthood (Furlong and Cartmel, 1997). As Sennett (1998) has noted it is difficult to make long-term commitments in a short-term society. The next section considers in more detail the nature of this employment relationship and the notion of the ‘psychological contract’ and focuses particularly on those already in the labour market.

The psychological contract The notion of a psychological contract is widely used in the organisational psychology and management literature, although there is some variation in its meaning and use. It is also used increasingly in professional (e.g. HR management) literature and also popular media, at least in Britain, with the attendant danger of oversimplification and uncritical assumptions. In general, the term ‘psychological contract’ applies to psychological aspects of the employment relationship. The concept was first coined by Argyris (1960) to refer to the expectations of employer and employee which operate over and above the formal contract of employment. It incorporates beliefs, values, expectations and aspirations of employer and employee, including perceptions of obligations, the extent to which these are perceived to be met or violated and the extent of trust within the relationship. The notion of a psychological contract usually implies mutuality and reciprocity, involving the perspectives of both parties (employer and employee), with ‘psychological contracting’ referring to the process whereby these perceptions are arrived at, which involves interpreting a range of organisational cues and social interactions. For example, if long-term, loyal employees are made redundant this signals that there can be no expectation of loyalty being rewarded by long-term security. There are, however, a number of ambiguities in the psychological contract literature. Firstly, it is not always clear to what extent the psychological contract is conceptualised as explicit or implicit. Initially it was formulated as implicit, but Rousseau (1995) among others argues it may be explicit. Secondly, there is some ambiguity about the extent to which the psychological contract refers to shared understanding that extends beyond individual employees and employers. It is usually defined as specific to individuals, involving individual understandings of mutuality and reciprocity (Herriot et al., 1997). However, the literature also often alludes to a traditional contract wherein, for example, many employers encouraged the expectation of long-term employment by adding various benefits, such as low mortgages (by banks) and in return expected loyalty and commitment. This implies that at least at one point in time there was a degree of mutuality about obligations. Arguably, a shift towards more individual psychological contracts reflects changing contexts as consensus about what the employment relationship should be like declines. Thirdly, there is some debate about whether the psychological contract is necessarily two-way or whether it exists only in the minds of employees. Rousseau’s formulation suggests the latter, while earlier definitions assumed a two-way ‘contract’. As Herriot et al. (1997) point out, the two-way model begs the question of who is

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the employer and overlooks the complexity of the cues from which employees develop their own understanding of the psychological contract. the different representatives of the organization, such as the employee’s line manager or Human Resources (HR) manager, might indeed be sending different messages regarding expectations and obligations. We argue nevertheless that such ambiguities represent the reality of organizational experience, and that consequently employees’ perceived contracts with organizations are often unclear. (Herriot et al., 1997: 151) A focus on the employees’ perspectives on the psychological contract therefore highlights the meanings they construct out of this complexity. However it is defined, an important aspect of the notion of a psychological contract is that it can be continually re-negotiated, changing with an individual’s, and an organisation’s, expectations, and in shifting economic and social contexts. It is not static, but dynamic and shifting, although most research provides only a snapshot of one point in time thereby capturing only one stage in this social process. The expectations and experiences which employees bring to the employment relationship, together with their interpretations of employer policies and practices, contribute to the process or content of the psychological contract which, in turn, is thought to contribute to outcomes such as the extent of organisational citizenship and commitment (Guest, 1998). It has been argued that workers today experience a ‘new psychological contract’ (Herriot, 1992), reflecting their own experiences and expectations, societal attitudes and changing work situations. While there is evidence that older members of the workforce feel that a psychological contract has been violated (that is, their expectations have not been met), and have lost trust in their organisations (Herriot et al., 1997), less is known about whether younger workers within current labour markets feel this violation of transmitted expectations or bring different expectations to the employment relationship. Below we examine some emerging perspectives on the employment relationship from the standpoints of the young people, that is, we look at young people’s discussions of their own views and their views of their employers’ side of the ‘psychological contract’. This builds on Rousseau’s model which focuses on the employee’s perceptions and expectations of the ‘deal’. Our focus is on those already in employment and is also limited to a snapshot of expectations at an early stage of a process which will develop over the life course. We have seen that many of the young people in our study who are not yet in employment consider job insecurity as a long-term issue not as an immediate concern. Questions about the expectations that employees bring to the employment relationship are hypothetical, perhaps gleaned from their parents working in another era, or from peers, but few have thought through clear mutual or reciprocal expectations. However, neither are there explicit expectations among most of those already employed, although there does appear to be a redefining

80 Suzan Lewis, Janet Smithson and Clarissa Kugelberg of expectations of security in employer–employee relations. This shift is reflected in a number of recent definitions of the psychological contract which accept that the course of employment is changing in many organisations. For example Hudson et al. (1998) describe the psychological contract as ‘In return for their loyalty, hard work and commitment, the employees expect to be “looked after” through the course of their employment’ (our italics). Rousseau and Wade-Benzoni (1995) suggest that the more traditional ‘relational contracts’, depending on trust, loyalty and a degree of job security, are being replaced by ‘transactional contracts’ where employees provide, for example, long hours and extra work in exchange for high pay, training and development.

Emerging perspectives on the employment relationship: new dimensions of psychological contracts? The discussions among the employed participants in this study suggest a number of emergent, overlapping perspectives on transactional psychological ‘contracts’. Moreover, while most literature on the psychological contract considers employer– employee expectations to be about paid work only, which implies a segregation of work and personal life, our more holistic focus here also generated expectations of the young people’s views on the employment relationship in relation to the combination of future employment and personal or family life. Three major perspectives emerged, highlighting compliance, short-term commitment, and compromise and reciprocity as bases for employment relationships. These dominant perspectives varied across different contexts and different groups of young people and are not mutually exclusive. Compliance perspectives This perspective on the employment relationship emerged among employed people in Britain, Ireland and Portugal, but not Sweden or Norway, where there is a different model of industrial relations and unions remain more influential. Where this emerged young people talked about the need to comply with what employers demand, such as long hours of work, simply because they felt that the labour-market situation left them with no option. They brought few expectations of mutual benefit and perceived little or no obligations on either side beyond the formal contract. They did what they needed to do and expected little in return. There was a decline in their trust in employers that was particularly strong among young people in the study with the least marketable skills, who were most likely to associate employer flexibility with reduced choice and rights for employees. If you don’t (work long hours) they’ll just clear you out and get someone in who will . . . and there’s enough competition for work. (male UK white-collar worker)

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You do the work they tell you or they get someone else. They’re not bothered about your real life, they just want their profits. That’s all they want nowadays their profits. The world is now a profit margin. (UK man, unemployed) I think employers in this country are extremely closed minded. I’m investing today because I want profit tomorrow. (female Portuguese clerical worker) People must do what they are expected to do. Because there are no more jobs for life [. . .] they must do what they have to, [. . .] I see the labour market like this. (female Portuguese white-collar worker) There was a sense of lack of choice and concern that, in times of high unemployment, workers have to accept worse terms and conditions of employment, but those on short-term contracts are perceived as particularly vulnerable. Flexibility of the labour market was interpreted by many of these young people as a means by which employers avoid costs associated with statutory benefits. I: S:

How about paternity leave? Well the main problem with that sort of legislation is that the first thing that companies do when something gets legislated is to try and find ways around it. It’s like maternity benefits, companies try and find, well, everybody’s on short-term contracts now and one of the big driving forces behind that is if you only give someone a 12-month contract, they have no maternity rights. So, you know, however good legislation is, there will be a way around it. (male UK white-collar worker).

The hopes and wishes of these young people contributed little to the way in which they talked about the employment relationship at this point in time. They featured more in the discussions of other participants who perceived their employment relationship in terms of two-way short-term commitment, or of trade-offs made to achieve a balance between work and other activities. Short-term commitment This view of the employment relationship emerged primarily among the more educated groups of employees, especially those who could be described as ‘knowledge workers in the new economy’, and most closely resembles the prevailing notion of the new psychological contract based on employability rather than security (Herriot et al., 1997): That’s what I’m looking for, flexibility to be able to grow and develop. (female Swedish management consultant in an individual interview)

82 Suzan Lewis, Janet Smithson and Clarissa Kugelberg These young people expected to give and receive commitment on a short-term basis. Definitions of job commitment and loyalty are contested in the literature (Fink, 1992; Berkhoff, 1998). Allen and Meyer (1990) distinguish three kinds of organisational commitment: affective attachment to an organisation, normative attachment (an experience of moral obligation to remain with an organisation) and continuance commitment (the perceived cost associated with leaving an organisation). Clearly these are all likely to be challenged by the current insecure context. Normative attachment to stay with an organisation appeared, unsurprisingly, to be weakened by perceived or actual insecurity for these young workers: ‘No, I probably don’t feel under any obligation to stay’ (female UK IT contract-worker). Warren (1996) suggests that non-permanent workers will feel loyalty first to the team or project, then to the trade, and only finally to the organisation where their skills are practised. The highly educated participants in this study, who were insecurely employed but working on a specific project (as opposed to the very precariously employed who did not know from day to day if they had work), did demonstrate high levels of commitment to their current projects and expected support to be able to do their work, but nothing over the long term: I: A:

I: T: I: T:

So, would most of you work if you won the lottery? Yeah. I’d still, um, finish the current project I’m on, without a shade of doubt and then I’d see what I was on next (professional UK man on a short-term contract). Do you feel you owe anything to your organisation? I owe what I’ll be giving them – a report at the end of the contract. I expect that they’ll be quite happy with it. What do you expect from them? Nothing outside the terms of the contract, no. I suppose I expect a certain level of respect and a certain . . . I expect to be given the freedom and authority to carry out the tasks (26-year-old Irishman with an accountancy contract job in a hi-tech firm).

However, this was combined with an awareness of the need to be building-up employment security for themselves. With this aim, they adopted strategies such as diverting their attention to job-seeking, withholding rather than sharing information and using the current job to build up contacts to use in the future. When you’re working on projects the deadline of the project is normally very close to the deadline of your contract, so just when you’ve got to put the most work in and polish it off, you’re busy scanning around to see where you are going next. (male UK contract researcher) It’s up to me how good I want to make the project, and that in turn contributes towards my job security because the strange thing in independent

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research organisations is you’re supposed to report on everything. Anything you do, you write reports so that the work is on file, and anybody else, supposedly, can pick up that report and then . . . so that makes you dispensable . . . so the trick is, you don’t put everything in the report. (male UK contract research engineer) I’m too young to start my own business. I have too little experience. I have to have a bigger network, because this is also based on contacts. (female Swedish project-worker) Balanced lives: compromise and reciprocity The young employed people’s desire for balanced lives was pivotal to another perspective on the employee–employer relationship. Here employees did not presume long-term security and accepted sometimes less than optimum conditions, such as lower pay, in exchange for flexibility and reasonable hours in order to achieve work–life balance. In Portugal and Britain, where working hours are longest, this was a particular concern and an aspect of employment they sought to trade for other outcomes. I don’t want to have to work loads of hours for ever, I’m only prepared to do it for a short time as a training thing. (female UK professional) Work long hours every day, no that’s not for me . . . sometimes you have to work late, it’s necessary once in a while. But to keep doing it . . . I want a life too, a person has other things to do apart from work. (male Portuguese student) A degree of loyalty and commitment was found among some workers, even in the most insecure jobs, where other benefits, such as training and development for temporary and non-standard workers, flexible working patterns, and respect from employers were available. That’s one of the things that keeps you here. The money’s not good, but flexitime makes up for it because you do have a life outside. (male UK administrator) Even though I don’t have a lot of benefits where I work I have a good relationship with the bosses. I know that I might have to work 9 or 10 hours but if I say I need a day off nobody says anything. (female Portuguese administrator) Arguably this form of transactional and usually implicit ‘contract’ has long been typical for many women making constrained choices about how to reconcile

84 Suzan Lewis, Janet Smithson and Clarissa Kugelberg employment and family life, involving the acceptance of reduced opportunities or rewards in return for some working-time flexibility. In our study however, this perspective was apparent among both men and women and was often discussed in terms of the desire to ‘have a life’ rather than specifically for work and family reasons. Among those who do not seek balance now there was often a desire to switch to a ‘balanced lives contract’ at some future point in the life course, particularly if they become parents. For this Swedish woman, life stage rather than gender would ideally determine the allocation of work among employees. Now I am young and can work 150% and want to do so . . . then I will have a period in my life when I will be more involved with children . . . and [if ] then I would be able to even out a bit that would be perfect. And sort of give more (work) to those who have time. (Swedish woman) How do these different perspectives on the employment relationship fit with the notion of changing psychological contracts in the post-job-security era? One possible interpretation is, as our data suggest, that there are several emerging forms of psychological contracts for these participants, based on compliance, short-term commitment and/or compromise, which vary according to context, worker characteristics and phase in the life course. If so, the different forms would not be mutually exclusive. It would be possible for employees to have an implicit understanding of the employment relationship vis à vis the employer, for example, in terms of both short-term commitment and compromise in order to achieve work–life balance. This suggests that it may be more useful to conceptualise the emerging psychological contracts between young employees and employers as multidimensional. Dimensions of the psychological contract would then include compliance or some sense of mutual obligation (reflecting the degree of power of the employer), two-way commitment based on short-term time spans, and compromise and exchange. Different dimensions might then become more significant according to context, phase in the life course and perhaps also economic phases of organisations and societies. Rather than conceptualising the psychological contract as one dimensional and coherent – as weak/poor/ unhealthy or as strong/good/healthy (based, for example, on the extent of agreement between employees and employers’ perspectives), as it is represented in much of the literature, our analysis suggests a multidimensional construct which could have contradictory elements, that is, it could be both positive and negative in nature, challenging simplistic notions of violation of and wholesale shifts in the psychological contract.

Conclusions Among those young people who are not yet in the labour market, most envisage they will need some employment security at some stage, but for many it is a distant rather than an immediate concern. For those already in the labour market,

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however, there is a need to engage to some extent in the process of constructing understanding of the psychological contract between employers and employees in the context of labour-market flexibility. The ways in which the young people talk about their experience of the labour market and specific employment relationships as insecure have some similarities across countries despite substantial differences in the nature of insecure work and in the formal infrastructure of support for those in and out of work. The exceptions were the Norwegian groups. The economy was less unstable in Norway and the participants were younger than in the other countries, students mostly, except for a group of male shipyard-workers who were confident that they would have a job at least in the short term. Some differences across countries also emerged. The compliance perspective, that is a view that employees have to comply with employers’ demands because of the tight labour market, was absent from the discussions in Sweden and Norway, perhaps reflecting the different models of industrial relations in the Scandinavian compared to the other three countries. In addition, the longer working hours in Portugal and Britain are reflected in more concern about opportunities for quality of life outside work than is expressed in the other countries. There are however also marked within country differences and across social groups. Notions of uncertainty and risk need to be understood in the context of the experiences and norms associated with different social groups (Adams, 1995; Furlong and Cartmel, 1997). In particular, a polarisation emerges between those who are highly skilled and those with fewer or less marketable skills. The former group includes professionals for whom the shift from secure to insecure work has been greatest. For many of them the gap between their earlier aspirations and expectations and current experiences can create tensions and anxieties, and be associated with the compliance model of the psychological contracts. The skilled and more highly educated male workers in this study often articulated the strongest views on non-permanent work and its implications for their lives. While this may be an artefact of the focus-group methodology, it may also be because for men in their professions permanent work has been the norm in recent decades, while among the least qualified men, and for many of the women, this has rarely been expected. But it is also among the highly skilled groups that the perspective resembling popular notions of the ‘new psychological contract’ emerges most clearly – with a focus on developing employability and transformative views of non-permanent employment contracts as opportunities rather than threats. Another distinction can be made between those who either already have children, or would like to make plans for future work and family lives and those who are, at this point in time, less concerned about these issues. The emergence of the balanced lives perspective illustrates that when we acknowledge that orientations to work cannot be easily separated from aspirations for personal life it is necessary to recognise that the multidimensional nature of psychological contracts whereby different elements may be in tension with one another. It may be that different combinations of dimensions of the implicit psychological contract are dominant at different stages of the course.

86 Suzan Lewis, Janet Smithson and Clarissa Kugelberg How useful is the construct or metaphor (Guest and Conway, 1998) of the psychological contract for understanding the ways in which young people make sense of the current labour-market situation? It provides one way of conceptualising the different ways in which the young people navigate the uncertainty of employment and ways in which the ‘extended present’ is manifested in the employment situation. However, some caution is necessary as the notion of the psychological contract involves reciprocal expectations between employers and employees and we have only one side of the picture at one point in time in our study of young people. We need to know more about employers’ perspectives and how the relationship between employers and employees is played out in different groups of workers over time. Nevertheless, our study contributes to a qualitative understanding of these expectations and the range of ‘contracts’ or dimensions of the employment relationship that the young employed people feel they have negotiated, agreed or had forced upon them and a glimpse of the expectations of those not yet in the labour market (except perhaps as casual labour while studying). This emphasises the multidimensional nature of the concept which incorporates interpretations of implicit and explicit contracts on a range of issues. There is also the question of whether employees ought to press for the informal contract needs to be more explicit (although not necessarily a part of the formal, legal contracts). It could be argued that if the expectations and obligations of employees were more explicit it may be possible to challenge some of the underlying assumptions, such as that flexible working arrangements should be negotiated against other tangible rewards, or to highlight positive elements of new transactional expectations. Employers, however, may be reluctant to make these informal deals explicit if this is perceived as conflicting with the rhetoric and practice of flexibility and may also take them down the route of legally contracted obligations.

References Allen, N. J. and Meyer, J. P. (1990) ‘The measurement of antecedents of affective, continuance and normative commitment to the organisation’, Journal of Occupational Psychology, 63: 1–18. Argyris, C. (1960) Understanding Organizational Behaviour, Illinois: Dorsey Press. Ashton, D. N. and Field, D. (1976) Young Workers, London: Hutchinson. Banks, M., Bates, I., Breakwell, G., Bynner, J., Emler, N., Jamieson, L. and Roberts, K. (1992) Careers and Identities, Milton Keynes: Open University Press. Beck, U. (1992) Risk Society: Towards a New Modernity, London: Sage. Beck, U. and Beck-Gernsheim, E. (1995) The Normal Chaos of Love, Oxford: Polity Press. Berkhoff, B. (1997) ‘Disentangling organisational commitment: the dangers of the OCQ for research and policy’, Personnel Review, 26(1/2): 114 –31. Brewster, C., Tregaskis, O., Mayne, L. and Hegewisch, A. (1998) ‘Flexible work in Europe’, Management Research News, 21(2). Clark, A. and Grey, A. (1997) Is Job Security on the Increase in OECD Countries? March, DEELSA OECD.

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Coles, B. (1995) Youth and Social Policy, London: University College London Press. Cooper, J. and Jones, C. (1992) ‘Estimates of the numbers of first, second and higher order births’, Populations Trends, 70. European Commission (1997) Youth in the European Union: from Education to Working Life, Luxembourg: European Commission, Office for Official Publications of the European Communities, L–2985. Eurostat (1997) Labour Force Survey, European Commission. Evans, K. and Furlong, A. (1997) ‘Metaphors of youth transitions: niches, pathways, trajectories and navigations’, in J. Bynner, L. Chisholm and A. Furlong (eds) Youth, Citizenship and Social Change in a European Context, Aldershot: Avebury. Fink, S. L. (1992) High Commitment Workplaces, New York, NY: Quorum Books. Furlong, A. and Cartmel, F. (1997) Young People and Social Change: Individualization and Risk in Late Modernity, Open University Press: Buckingham. Giddens, A. (1990) The Consequences of Modernity, Oxford: Polity Press. Giddens, A. (1991) Modernity and Self-Identity: Self and Society in the Late Modern Age, Oxford: Polity Press. Guest, D. (1998) ‘Is the psychological contract worth taking seriously?’ Journal of Organizational Behaviour. Guest, D. and Conway, N. (1998) Fairness at Work and the Psychological Contract, London: CIPD. Handy, C. (1994) The Empty Raincoat: Making Sense of the Future, London: Hutchinson. Herriot, P. (1992) The Career Management Challenge: Balancing Individual and Organisational Needs, London: Sage. Herriot, P., Manning, W. E. G. and Kidd, J. M. (1997) ‘The content of the psychological contract’, Biritsh Journal of Management, 8: 151–62. Hudson, M., Reed, H. and Wilkinson, F. (1998) Defining Job Insecurity: Towards an Interdisciplinary Approach, paper presented at the 12th Annual Employment Research Unit Conference, University of Cardiff. ISR (International Survey Research) (1995) Employee Satisfaction: Tackling European Trends, London. Lucey, H. (1996) Transitions to Womanhood: Constructions of Success and Failure for Middle and Working Class Young Women, conference paper, British youth research: the new agenda, 26–8 January, University of Glasgow. Meadows, P. (1996) ‘The future of work’, in P. Meadows (ed.) Work Out or Work In?: Contributions to the Debate on the Future of Work, York: Joseph Rowntree Foundation. Metcalfe, H. (1997) Youth Transitions, London: Policy Studies Centre. Nilsen, A. (1998) ‘Forever young’ (‘Jovens para sempre’), Sociologia: Problemas e Practicas, 27: 59–78. Roberts, K. and Parcell, G. (1992) ‘Entering the labour market in Britain: the survival of traditional opportunity structures’, Sociological Review, 30: 727–53. Rousseau, D. M. (1995) Promises in Action: Psychological Contracts in Organizations, Newbury Park, CA: Sage. Rousseau, D. M. and Wade Benzoni, K. A. (1995) ‘Changing individual-organizational attachments: a two-way street’, in A. Howard (ed.) The Changing Nature of Work, San Francisco, CA: Jossey Bass. Sengenberger, W. (1995) ‘Employment protection and employment security’, in W. Sengenberger and D. Campbell (eds) Economic Opportunities: The Role of Labour Market Standards in Industrial Restructuring, Geneva: Institute for Labour Studies.

88 Suzan Lewis, Janet Smithson and Clarissa Kugelberg Tulgan, B. (1995) Managing Generation X, London: Merrit. Warren, R. (1996) ‘The empty company: morality and job security’, Personnel Review, 25(6): 41–53. Wilkinson, H. (1994) No Turning Back: Generations and the Genderquake, London: Demos.

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Young people’s awareness of gendered realities Pat O’Connor, Janet Smithson and Maria das Dores Guerreiro

Introduction The starting-point of this chapter is that gender is, with class and race, one of the structural and cultural realities that affects the shape of young people’s lives. The United Nations (1995: 29) noted that ‘no society in the world treats its women as well as its men’; that ‘In no society today do women enjoy the same opportunities as men . . . a widespread pattern of inequality between men and women persists.’ In none of the five countries included in the study do women earn as much as men; they are less likely than men to be in managerial positions; although in all the countries women make up roughly half of the professional and technical workers and they are doing better than their male counterparts at school. Women in all five countries are much more likely to be working part time or reduced hours than men, and are much more likely to be taking primary responsibility for childcare. Thus, gender is seen as ‘a fundamental feature . . . arguably as fundamental as class divisions . . . capitalism is run mainly by and to the benefit of men’ (Connell, 1995a: 104). However, the existence of gendered realities does not necessarily equate with any individual’s awareness of them (Beck, 1992). Indeed, it is widely accepted that the most effective exercise of power is in situations where beliefs and practices are such that its exercise is seen as ‘natural’; ‘inevitable’: what people want (Lukes, 1974). In times of rapid social change, where there are discontinuities in individuals’ experiences, disjunctions arise between individuals’ ‘practical’ and ‘discursive’ consciousness (Haugaard, 1997). These kinds of disjunctions are evident in the accounts of the young people in this study as they deal with the contradictions between a gendered reality and what has been called (Chapter 2) a discourse of individual choices. It will be shown that such cultural tensions were greatest among Irish and Portuguese respondents. Thus, in these countries, the accounts of the young people demonstrate the vivid reality of gendered inequalities as regards access to promotion; they struggle with the tensions between ideologies of sharing in domestic work and the ongoing existence of gendered conceptions of adulthood and division of labour in the family. Connell has suggested that: ‘Gender is the domain of social practice organised in relation to a reproductive arena constituted by the materiality of the body’ (1999:

90 Pat O’Connor, Janet Smithson and Maria das Dores Guerreiro 464). He is at pains to stress that gender ‘refers to bodies and what bodies do; it is not a social practice reduced to bodily functions’ (1999: 464). Connell suggests that (albeit to varying degrees), the majority of men, as men, enjoy a ‘patriarchal dividend’ (in terms of ‘honour, prestige or the right to command’ including a ‘material dividend’: 1995b: 82). Thus, gender is seen as related to privilege; with privilege deriving from male power at a structural or interpersonal level. Connell argues that although only a minority of men actively subordinate women, the majority are comfortable with such a dividend when it appears to be given to them ‘by an external force, by nature or convention, or even by women themselves, rather than by an active social subordination going on here and now’ (Connell, 1995a: 215). Thus, it is because men wish to be men, within a society where being a man involves privilege, that patriarchy is perpetuated. For Connell (1995a and 1995b) as for Bottero (1998) male privileging is maintained, not only by individual or group attempts to intimidate, oppress and exclude women, but also by women’s and men’s ‘realistic’ expectations. Their acceptance of the status quo effectively perpetuates ‘a structure where different groups are rewarded unequally’. Thus awareness of the structural and cultural reality of gender is seen as crucial. Connell (1995a and b and 1999) has been among those who have noted that societies vary in the extent to which they are ‘mapped’ by gender. Such mapping may be reflected in the gendering of concepts of adulthood and in social practices involving recruitment or promotion in the area of paid employment. Gendered realities underlie policies about childcare (Chapter 7); and underpin the extent and nature of gender contracts (Chapter 8). In crude terms, the existence of such mapping can be illustrated by comparing the ranking of the five countries in this study on a series of UN measures. Such countries vary in terms of what the UN has called their Human Development Index (HDI) and the Gender Development Index (GDI) – the latter taking into account the same basic measures as the HDI but measuring inequalities between men and women (i.e. as regards life expectancy, education and income). On these two measures, the two Scandinavian countries are at the high end of the continuum, with Ireland and Portugal at the lower end (see Table 6.1). The same basic pattern persists when we look at the Gender Empowerment Measure (GEM). It focuses

Table 6.1 Rank order of selected countries on the Human Development Index, the Gender Development Index and the Gender Empowerment Index

Ireland United Kingdom Portugal Sweden Norway

HDI *

GDI*

GEM*

18 10 28 6 2

18 10 28 6 2

21 15 18 3 1

*174 countries ranked by UN, 2000: 157, 161, 165

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on the extent to which women participate in the (public) economic and political life by focusing on their share of managerial and professional jobs; their share of parliamentary seats and their income. Again the Scandinavian countries are the most highly ranked with Ireland in this case being the lowest of the five, followed by Portugal, and with the UK being in an intermediate position. The Irish and UK ranking on this measure is lower than on the HDI, clearly suggesting that less priority is being attached to gender measures than to economic development in these countries. Overall, however, on these crude measures, Portugal and Ireland clearly emerge as societies where gender is still very much a structural reality although Portugal, while clearly more economically disadvantaged than Ireland, has prioritised gender issues (as reflected in GEM) in a way that Ireland has not. However, it is important to note that ‘gender equality does not depend on the income level of a society’ (UN, 1995: 75). In this chapter a discourse analytic approach (Potter and Wetherell, 1987; Edwards and Potter, 1992) is used which allows a detailed, interpretative account of the opinions, views and debates surrounding gendered realities in the five countries (Wilkinson, 1998). This chapter first looks at the existence of gendered definitions of adulthood (and particularly at concepts of womanhood and manhood); and then at the perceived existence of gendered practices in the paid-employment area (focusing on recruitment and promotion); and finally looks at the ways in which these young people negotiate the contradictions in their views about gender.

Concepts of adulthood A gender-neutral concept of adulthood ignores or denies the relevance of bodies. It has sometimes been confused with androgyny, the combination of male and female characteristics. On the other hand the key element in gender-neutrality is the denial of any bodily reality. This perspective is evident in many public discussions that purport to disregard gender differences. Implicitly, such discussions suggest that gender is irrelevant, and hence that girls are the same as boys: that they can do anything that boys can. It fits well with West European ideas about individuality and meritocracy. It is the classic liberal position and the model that underpins much EU thinking in the employment area and much of the official rhetoric of the educational system (see Lynch, 1999; Lynch and Morgan, 1995). Recent reports have attributed such ‘post-feminist’ values to young women (Katz, 1997). When the focus was on the future and no context was specified (‘Do you think being a man or woman makes a difference to your life?’) young men and women, in all countries, from all backgrounds, typically said that gender had no impact on the shape of their lives. Scandinavia has a long tradition of equal opportunities so that discourse of gender there is very much a ‘silent’ one. However, even young Irish men and women who were asked whether they saw gender as affecting what would happen to them in the next five years simply said no: ‘You make your own future’ (female Irish vocational trainee, mostly high

92 Pat O’Connor, Janet Smithson and Maria das Dores Guerreiro education) and ‘Not really, not if you are determined enough – if you have your goals . . . it doesn’t matter what sex you are. Thirty years ago it was a different kettle of fish, but not now’ (male Irish skilled manual-worker in the catering sector). Similarly, the UK respondents did not think that gender would make a difference to their lives. ‘It’s up to the individual’ and ‘it depends on what you want’ were typical of their comments. Individual choice, and individual skills and qualities, were seen by the UK participants to account for any differences in lifestyle, job choices, future expectations etc: People should be able to do what they want; what the couples decide between themselves, they should be able to have the opportunity to do what’s right for them, as opposed to being forced by society’s pressures about what, you do as the norm. (male UK law student) Nevertheless, a more in-depth examination of the transcripts revealed that gendered concepts of adulthood did exist, particularly, but not exclusively, among the Irish and the Portuguese respondents. Manhood: its definition and privileging It has been argued that manhood/masculinity is culturally constructed. Connell suggested that: ‘Masculinity . . . is simultaneously a place in gender relations, the practices through which men and women engage that place in gender, and the effects of these practices in bodily experience, personality and culture’ (Connell, 1995a: 71). Connell identified various kinds of masculinity including hegemonic masculinity – which he saw as being organised around heterosexuality and domination; and conventional masculinity, which he saw as having similar elements but being ‘more bashful about domination’ (Connell, 1995a: 215). Here we are simply concerned with the extent to which manhood was defined in terms of ‘breadwinning’, and with the broader relationship between work and family implicit in concepts of manhood. In countries such as Ireland, where the public importance of men has been associated with infantilising them within the domestic and family arena, the role of breadwinner is particularly important, although there are some suggestions that it is under pressure. Thus, for example, McKeown et al. (1998: xii) suggested that: ‘The tendency for men to find their identity and fulfilment exclusively in the world of work . . . is increasingly challenged.’ However, in the present study, this role was seen by the young men and young women as the normative role for men as men: I think that you have the tradition of the man being the breadwinner. A lot of men, even though they are in their 20s are still in that mode of thought. They feel they are the breadwinner. I can’t imagine my husband staying at

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home looking after the family and me being the breadwinner – he couldn’t cope with that. (female Irish supervisor, high education) The proportion of dual-income families doubled in Ireland between the mid1980s and the mid-1990s (O’Connor, 2000a and b). Since the mid-1990s, in a tight labour market there are numerous economic opportunities for women in an increasingly service-oriented economy, while dramatically rising house costs have further eroded the viability of a male breadwinner. Indeed a ‘crisis in masculinity’ has been identified, reflecting ‘the beginning and the end of male control’ (Clare, 2000: 217). Among the Irish respondents there was widespread doubt about the realism of having a sole main breadwinner: It would be nice but I don’t think it would be possible – that is gone long ago. (Irish woman in routine non-manual occupation) The days of one wage coming into the family are gone. You need two wages at this stage. (female Irish business management trainee) Nevertheless, this view of self as breadwinner was a very strong theme in the Irishmen’s own personal accounts: ‘I need money to do my bit to feed my wife’ (male hotel manager, high education). As he saw it he ‘had no one else to fall back on’ – although his wife was in full-time paid employment. In a wider European context, the focus on breadwinning as an element in definitions of manhood seemed to be associated with manual work, but it was much more widespread than this in the Irish focus groups. Thus, the Norwegian shipyardworkers (Chapter 9) defined themselves in this way. Similarly, the male Portuguese construction-workers defined themselves in terms of the breadwinner role: ‘For me the most important thing is the job, without it you have nothing, afterwards the family. I am supporting a family – a wife and two children. If I don’t work they don’t eat.’ Among other male Portuguese administrator focus groups, there were conflicting views: Q: R1:

R2: R3:

Do women have the same necessity of finding a job as you? Maybe more so because for a long time they were under the dominance of men and now they have a bigger necessity for assertion, for independence The reality as I know it, I believe to be the same . . . They [men] have that chauvinist perspective. If we have a child she is the one looking after it and I keep working.

Beck (1992: 112) has suggested that: ‘In the stereotypical male gender role as ‘career man’, economic individualisation and masculine behaviour are joined together’. Irishmen, and to a lesser extent UK men, also made explicit that for

94 Pat O’Connor, Janet Smithson and Maria das Dores Guerreiro them the choice was not between paid work and family, but between total career commitment and family, that is, the choice involved the extent of their commitment to a full-time job, not the existence of that full-time job in the first place. As they saw it: It’s your choice. If you want to get up the career ladder, that is one of the sacrifices you have to make. We can choose to work the long hours, get up the career ladder, earn lots of money and live that lifestyle if we want, or we can choose to take a different job and live a comfortable lifestyle and relax a bit more and have a good time . . . to be honest, a high-flying executive doesn’t go well with family life. (male hotel manager, high education) Thus clearly an ideology of choice had been superimposed on an unrecognised gendered reality. Among the UK men, particularly the professional ones, there was a much greater normative acceptance of the desirability of a man being at home at least part-time, bringing up children – although the wider structural context was still seen as not facilitating that: R1:

I: R1:

I: R1:

[male UK professional] I’m actually very tempted to leave the work and actually bring up the kid, and at least work only part time, if that was possible, and yet, you’ll always come up against employers in arranging that. Yeah, what sort of problems? Oh, some of them just aren’t interested in it, I mean we talk about things like jobshare and stuff, but you know, some people you speak to they like the idea and it’s just the issue of it. So you’d be happy to do that? Yeah.

Similarly it was argued by a male UK computer programmer that ‘Realistically, I think I’ll be forced to work 5 days a week and leave childcare to someone else, probably, in real life.’ For these men the breadwinner role was not an essential element in their identity. They expressed a desire to combine childcare with part-time employment, reflecting a long-established British solution among women to the reconciliation of work and family. It is not possible to know to what extent concepts of manhood in the UK focus groups have actually moved away from those revolving around breadwinning, or to what extent they are simply being politically correct (i.e. expressing the ‘right’ opinions for men of their age and social class, but falling ‘reluctantly’ into traditional gender roles). Stokoe (1998) points out that the management of a nonsexist identity is important for many UK young adults, and hence one might expect that this would be reflected in their discussions as a way of establishing ‘face’ in front of peers (Gough, 1998). This may be what has been happening

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here. However, it seems unlikely that this was the case, since the participants did not hesitate to offer controversial or sexist views at other times. Furthermore, the use of passive language in the second quote, ‘I’ll be forced . . .’, was striking. Effectively it is being suggested that the perpetuation of traditional gender roles was due to factors beyond their control – a recognised strategy among those endorsing conventional masculinity (Connell, 1995b). There was some suggestion that norms in the UK had changed: ‘My boyfriend told me if I ever got pregnant, it would depend who was on the best income, but if I was earning and I was on a better income, he’d stay at home’ (female UK business administration trainee). However, if the structures remained the same, the implication was that women simply had to see the outcome as reasonable and accept it (‘Not particularly [like it] but I’m sure I’ll come round to it’ (female UK accountant). Sometimes, albeit rarely, the ‘money’ argument seemed likely to lead to a change away from traditional gender roles: ‘If me and my partner ever decide to have children, it would make much more sense for me to leave work than for her, ’cos she’ll be, in a couple of years, earning more or less double what I’m on’ (male UK research worker). In the majority of cases the ‘gender-neutral’ strategy of financial considerations will result in practice in the woman giving up her job, or going part time, as men still consistently earn more than women (Eurostat, 1998), and a man is likely to be earning more than his female partner (Burgoyne and Lewis, 1994; Desmarais and Curtis, 1997). In effect, ignoring gender differences perpetuates men’s role as breadwinners (Dally, 1996). Thus, while appearing gender-neutral, it can effectively preclude the possibility of changes in gender roles. ‘My partner would love to [stay at home and look after the children] but financially he earns more than I do, so it just wouldn’t be feasible really. ’Cos all my work is kind of fixed contract all the time he’s got a permanent job, it just kinda would be too, whatever the word is, not practical’ (female UK professional). Among the Irish respondents normative change clearly had not occurred in definitions of manhood. Thus, they noted that although: More of them [i.e. men] are getting conscious of their children and want to spend time with them, they also have got the need to be the main breadwinner . . . a man has to work or they don’t feel right about themselves anyway. (female Irish retail sales trainee) There was an implicit normative protectiveness towards men based on their perception of them as weaker and less competent: ‘I think it is more difficult for a man to be at home minding the children if that is not what he wants. I think women cope a lot better with it’ (female Irish vocational trainee, high education). We should note that the politics of location (Braidotti, 1994) were clearly important since the views of lone mothers were strikingly lacking in protectiveness towards men (whether this was the cause or effect of lone parenthood).

96 Pat O’Connor, Janet Smithson and Maria das Dores Guerreiro At the end of the week it’s the woman who has to get the money off the man, go down and sort out the bills, look after the child . . . they [men] just get up, go to work, come home, have their dinner, they could go out, stay in . . . there’s no real pressure on them except the pressure they have at work. (female Irish temporary employee, moderate/low education) As previously noted, Connell (1995a: 215) has suggested that conventional masculinity was characterised by a belief that the unearned privileges enjoyed by men were given to them ‘by an external force, by nature, or convention or even by women themselves rather than by the social subordination of women going on here and now’. Particularly among unemployed low-skilled men, there was a certain uneasiness about men’s domestic privileges and a good deal of embarrassed laughter: R1:

R2:

Women seem to take it upon themselves. They do the child minding and . . . cooking the dinners and stuff. They just automatically start doing that . . . Well I lived with a girl before and she used to always do that. When I’d come in the door there’d be a dinner there and I’d say ‘why are you doing that?’ I mean me personally, I’d prefer to cook my own dinner even if I was married. If you could get away with it you would.

At both a normative level, and in their own accounts, there was no enthusiasm whatsoever among Irish men or women for role reversal (regardless of educational level). Indeed, a female postgraduate saw men who chose to stay at home as ‘useless’ and as unworthy of respect – a position that sat uneasily with their views about degendered identities in a degendered world: ‘I don’t think I would be happy with a husband or a partner who gave up his job to look after the children. I couldn’t possibly . . . have respect. I know it’s terrible and I’m not a nineties woman.’ Such views were not peculiar to them, however, with both UK men and women being less than enthusiastic about role reversal: ‘with due respect, somebody who wants to stay at home, I’m not going to support him’ (female UK university student); while UK blue-collar workers stressed the distinction between housework and what was implicitly seen as ‘real’ work: R1: R2: R1:

You can find work to do, well you can clean the carpets, dust the mantelpiece . . . do you know but I mean like? It’s not working. Yeah, it’s not working.

Overall, among the Irish and the Portuguese there was a strong sense of normative gender differentiation between men and women – and this was reflected in gendered conceptions of manhood, when the focus was on breadwinning. In the UK there were suggestions that the normative discourse had changed, with

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gendered patterns persisting but being legitimated by ‘practical considerations’ which purported to be gender-neutral (although they in fact reflected wider gendered realities). Womanhood: definition and value Over the past 30 years, there has been a good deal of interest in the social and cultural construction of womanhood/femininity and particularly in the extent to which historically specific cultural constructions have attributed to women those characteristics (such as submissiveness, passivity and self-sacrifice) that are conducive to patriarchal control (Daly, 1978; Connell, 1995b; O’Connor, 1998). The concept of ‘feminity’ (Connell, 1995b) has echoes of quaint and faded glamour and so is not used here; although Connell’s insight that concepts of feminity are constructed in the context of female subordination to men, with limited scope for institutionalised power relationships, is revealing. In the context of this study however we are simply concerned with the extent to which the concept of adulthood is effectively gendered; and the extent to which womanhood is defined not only around the bearing and rearing of children but also in terms of general responsibility for a broader range of domestic tasks. Portuguese, UK, Irish and Scandinavian respondents all referred to the fact that childcare responsibilities were disproportionately – and inevitably – discharged by women. Thus they said: ‘I think that a child will always look for its mother and you know the mother always seems to take on a major role in minding the child’ (female Irish vocational trainee, high education). ‘Mother is the security, it’s always mother, the father does not have an equally strong role’ (Swedish woman, temporarily employed). Among the Scandinavian respondents these immutable differences revolved particularly around the rearing of children. In Ireland the differences extended much wider to include the whole area of domestic work and were very long term indeed: I would love to have been an air hostess or something like that. People say go back and do it but you can’t with a child. Imagine flying all over the world. Who is going to mind James? My mother isn’t going to mind him you know. You are just . . . My life now is James [son] until he is 18 and that is it. (female unemployed Irish vocational trainee, high education) In Ireland, traditionally, women’s nature and destiny was seen as motherhood and within an Irish context this was, until very recently indeed, seen as full-time motherhood. Such ideological essentialism was not peculiarly Irish, but: ‘what makes Ireland unique is that consensualism has forestalled any critique of essentialism’ (Drudy and Lynch, 1993: 55). In both the Irish and Portuguese focus groups, the concept of adulthood was gendered, with gender differences being related to innate characteristics – particularly to biological nature. Within such an essentialist perspective there are no inequalities between men and women other than those arising from the ‘natural order’. The ramifications of this

98 Pat O’Connor, Janet Smithson and Maria das Dores Guerreiro ‘nature’ were seen as considerable. Thus, as the male Portuguese constructionworkers saw it: ‘Men think one way and women another . . . the men worry about the job, the financial situation, the house while women worry more about new curtains, a new table or something like that.’ In Ireland, as in Portugal, women have traditionally been better educated than men. In Ireland, although they were excluded from the public arena of paid employment until relatively recently, they had a strong sense of the value of their own contribution to the domestic and family arena (O’Hara, 1998; O’Connor, 1999b). Indeed they could also see themselves as powerful and ‘play along’ with the idea of male power – almost like a mother colluding with a child’s delusions of grandeur (see Cowan, 1996 and Rivera Fuentes, 1996 for similar patterns in Greece and Latin America). There was some evidence that the sheer experience of motherhood was seen as empowering: ‘ if you have a child or anything. You would be able to go more places, you will be strong and have your own goals’ (female Irish business management trainee). However, despite their perceived inadequacies, men were seen as necessary in so far as it was expected that a woman would have a partner and children once she ‘got to thirty-four or thirty-five’. R1: R2:

Everyone laughs at you, you see it looking around you . . . families everybody. People will say ‘Oh look at that old one without a man’. (female Irish hotel managers, high education)

Among the Irish and Portuguese respondents, gendered patterns as regards housework and childcare were valued and, indeed, were seen as reflecting women’s greater competence and responsibility. Repeatedly, and in different ways, in their own accounts women were depicted as more responsible and more competent than their male counterparts. Thus the idea of role reversal was greeted with incredulity. ‘If you swapped roles with your husband, would he be able to cope?’ ‘Not at all – he’d have them killed. He’d be bankrupt. He wouldn’t be able to.’ Similar kinds of pride in women’s ability to cope were expressed by the Portuguese. So, Portuguese women undergraduate students responded to suggestions that fathers be given two months non-transferable leave to care for a new baby by saying that ‘they wouldn’t make it . . . alone with the child, they wouldn’t make it.’ These views were also expressed by male Portuguese high-school students who echoed each other’s view that ‘They [women] are stronger.’ This valuing of gendered spheres of expertise was not found in the Norwegian or Swedish data; nor among most of the UK respondents (the exceptions being those among the UK women who were already mothers). It has been very clearly shown that across a wide variety of developed countries it is women who have the main responsibility for, and who disproportionately undertake housework and childcare (Coverman, 1989; Kiely, 1995; United Nations, 1995; O’Connor, 1998, 2000a, 2000b; Baxter, 2000; Sullivan, 2000). Sullivan (2000) showed that, over a 20-year period in the UK, although the

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increase in men’s contribution to cooking and cleaning was 1 minute per year, in one-third of full-time employed couples the man now spent more time in domestic tasks than the woman. Thus, clearly under certain conditions, change in the domestic division of labour can and does occur. As Finch (1989) noted, the negotiation about gendered activity takes place under specific structural conditions, which may be more or less conducive to the maintenance of men’s patriarchal privileging. It is important to stress that the majority of the young people in this study did not have children; that some were still living at home (see Chapters 1 and 9) so that their ideas about the division of labour as regards housework and childcare were, for the most part, uninformed by their own direct experiences. However, it was striking that among the young women across the five countries in this study there was widespread endorsement of the discourse of shared responsibilities with regard to housework and childcare: ‘Now both parents are taking responsibility – before it was normal for a man to go out and work while the woman was at home. That is changing now.’ Thus the changed parameters of men and women’s lives were seen as creating the possibility for the sharing of domestic work. Nevertheless, when they were asked who would pick children up from school and/or take time off to look after them if they were sick: ‘I think that a child will always look for its mother and you know the mother always seems to take on a major role in minding the child’ (female Irish management trainee, high education). Similar views were expressed by Swedish respondents who said: ‘Mother is the security, it’s always mother, the father does not have an equally strong role.’ As the Irish and Portuguese women saw it, what made the difference was for a woman to have children: ‘I think women are always the ones to make sacrifices . . . I don’t think it will ever be equal – completely equal . . .’ (female Portuguese university student). There was clear evidence that, particularly but not exclusively in Scandinavia, there was normative consensus among both men and women that domestic labour should be shared. However, to varying degrees it was recognised that this was not what actually happened: Those times I ask him to do it . . . ‘yes, yes, of course I’ll do the washing-up, yes, yes, I’ll do it.’ That’s if he’s visiting me, like. And then, if I’m at a lecture and come home, he’s lying on the sofa and still asleep! And then I just do it, it irritates me that it’s still not done. And it shouldn’t be like that! (female Norwegian student) It is obvious that in this case the ‘negotiated practice’ (Finch, 1989) is not what she feels should exist. Indeed it was striking that at times the discourse shifted from what did exist to what should exist: ‘They belong to both of you, don’t they, so you should put a joint effort in’ (female UK secretarial student) and ‘I’d like to do them both [work and childcare], but I want my partner to do both as well . . . it’s got to be shared. I think it’s healthier for both people and the child’ (female UK community-worker). This gap between what did exist and what

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should exist as regards sharing of household and family work for both men and women was particularly strong in Scandinavia: R1: R2:

Doing all the housework isn’t fun. No, for us it’s completely unnatural, anyway for me, so . . . it’s obvious . . . we’ll share it out, like! Are you quite, quite stupid? It’s nothing to discuss even. (female Norwegian students)

Among the women a discourse of shared domestic work seemed to rest to a considerable extent on wishful thinking, on normative conceptions of what ought to exist as regards domestic and family roles. In some cases this disjunction between the ideal and the reality was made explicit: I: R1:

Do you see yourself sharing all the childcare [with your partner]? In theory yeah definitely, but what will happen in practice I don’t really know (pregnant UK health-worker).

Particularly in the UK young men were likely to refer to ‘practical’ (and purportedly gender-neutral) considerations which inhibited their sharing of domestic tasks. Thus, it was argued by a male UK computer programmer that ‘in real life’ it would be difficult for him to take an equal role in childcare: ‘Ideally, as I said, I would like to be able to share childcare when that came along equally, either working for part of the week, or working for part of the year, I’m strongly inclined to that.’ This perspective has some roots in empirical reality. UK men have the longest working hours in Europe, and work longer hours when they have children (with women tending to work much shorter hours after having children than is the case in Sweden, Norway or Portugal: Chapter 1). However, the gendered context was obscured and the explanation misleadingly presented as a gender-neutral. The net effect was that: ‘men have practiced a rhetoric of equality without matching their words to deeds’ (Beck, 1992). There were also intriguing suggestions that insofar as gender differences had disappeared (‘they have kind of met in the middle’: Swedish unemployed man), all round de-skilling had occurred, with neither men nor women including taskbased competencies within their definition of themselves: R1:

R2:

Everything has been evened out. Before girls were better at taking care of children because that was what they did. The guys were out fixing things. Nowadays guys can’t fix cars and we girls can barely cook. Now we are all equal. Nobody can do anything. (Swedish women employed on temporary contracts)

Nevertheless, it was striking that particularly among the young women in this study, there was a strong perception that domestic labour was, or at least should be, shared. A wide variety of empirical evidence suggests that such expectations

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are, by and large, naïve, with persistent gender inequalities as regards the allocation of unpaid work in the home being very much a reality. In this context, an element of wish-fulfilment seemed to exist in UK women’s attitudes towards the sharing of domestic tasks. UK men’s focus on the ‘practical difficulties’ of doing so can be seen as a way of effectively pre-empting pressures to increase participation in such unpaid work in the home. Particularly among the Irish and the Portuguese respondents essentialist definitions of womanhood were endorsed by men and women – such ideas radiating out to include not simply the bearing of children but a wide range of responsibilities relating to housework and childcare. Women’s ability to cope with what was implicitly seen as the more important responsibilities (viz. housework and childcare) was very positively valued in both Ireland and Portugal and was seen as reflecting their greater strength and competence.

Paid employment: recruitment and promotion Despite the fact that in a gendered society bureaucracies are unlikely to be staffed by ‘degendered automatons’ (Halford, 1992: 172) the gendered reality of organisations is frequently ignored. It is well established that horizontal and vertical segregation exists in paid employment right across Europe: ‘The hierarchical order of work organisations with disproportionate numbers of women at the bottom and disproportionate numbers of men at the top is also an expression of gender. This order preserves traditional power relations between men and women and confirms the symbolic association of masculinity with leadership and feminity with supportiveness’ (Acker, 1988: 482). Nevertheless gender, and particularly the materiality of bodies, is often seen as irrelevant to the world of paid employment. Women’s rising educational levels have ensured that they constitute approximately half of those in professional and technical occupations in the five countries in this study (with the proportions ranging from 45–6 per cent in the UK and Ireland to 59 per cent in Norway: UN, 2000). Women constitute one-quarter to one-third of those in managerial or administrative positions in these countries. As Savage (1992) noted, women have been considerably more successful in accessing positions of expertise in the professional and technical areas rather than in line management authority. Differences are small across the five countries, but in all of them female expertise is not clearly translated into occupancy of positions of authority. Furthermore, societies such as Sweden, which would be seen as being characterised by gendered equality contracts (see Chapter 8), are just as unlikely to have women in managerial or administrative positions as are very much more patriarchal countries like Ireland (Mahon, 1994; O’Connor, 1998). In fact, the countries with the lowest proportions of women in managerial/administrative positions were Ireland and Sweden (26–7 per cent respectively); with Portugal and the UK having the highest proportions (32–3 per cent respectively: UN, 2000). So, quite clearly, issues that are related to the reconciliation of work and family are not sufficient to transform gendered patterns of vertical segregation.

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Insofar as the dominant discourse within the public arena appears to be both degendered and dominated by ideas about ‘merit’ and ‘choice’, there are strong pressures on women against perceiving themselves as women, and/or as disadvantaged within structures which are hierarchically male-dominated and based on the perception of men as the norm. Cockburn (1991: 219) has vividly captured the subtlety of women’s acceptance in such ostensibly degendered structures: ‘You may find a place as long as you simulate the norm and hide your difference. We will know you are different, and continue ultimately treating you as different, but if you yourself specify your difference, your claim to equality will be nil.’ In such contexts, the existence of men in positions of authority is seen as ‘natural’ and ‘inevitable’. When attention was focused on employers’ perceived attitudes to potential employees, typically it was suggested that gender did not make a difference. Even in Ireland, where a bar on married women’s participation in paid employment persisted in a variety of contexts up to 1973 (O’Connor and Shortall, 1999) getting a job was still mostly seen as related to personality, skill, experience etc. However, there were occasional dissenting comments about ‘backward’ firms who continued to be influenced by the conflating of gender and family responsibilities: R1: R2: R3:

R2:

I think it is skills more than anything. Yeah, I think it’s experience as well and the amount of work you have done before. And the type of work you’ve done. You will find that some firms are a small bit backward, they will give a job to a man if he’s got a family to support quicker than they’ll give it to a woman. I think in the catering industry that attitude is going out and they are not too interested in that anymore. It is what skills you have. (female Irish supervisors, high education)

Across the focus groups commitment to paid employment was not seen as varying between men and women. However, it was common for references to be made by Portuguese, Irish and Swedish respondents to young men as being more interested than young women in the salary: Starting salary is a huge topic of conversation – all they want to know is: what are you starting off at? I think girls tend to ask what is your job like? And is it interesting? But they [men] look at the salary and they will apply for it. (female Irish postgraduate student) Furthermore, many women emphasised that they had chosen their career not for the money but for interest, usefulness and personal satisfaction: ‘It is important to me in a job. I like to feel that I am doing something useful, both

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professionally and to society’ (female UK nurse). However, there was no indication that women were conscious of the wider context within which such gendered choices were being made (for example, the tendency for female-dominated areas of employment to be lower-paid; to have a lower ratio of promotional posts etc.: O’Connor, 1998). Indeed they were also unaware of the fact that, as we outlined in Chapter 1, transitions into work and family roles are still highly gendered in terms of the qualifications and career paths chosen by young women and men (Halford et al., 1997; Rubery et al., 1998). In contrast, the gendered implications of women’s bodies (and particularly maternity) were seen as considerable in affecting access to paid employment by the Portuguese and Irish respondents. It was simply taken for granted that employers would prefer to employ those without children (and those less likely to have them i.e those who were single). Portuguese groups were particularly likely to refer to employers’ attitudes to maternity as an issue: They get pregnant and that’s bad for the company the sick days. It is a big disadvantage for the company. For nine months they have to pay and they get nothing in return – that’s what they think, and with men that doesn’t happen. (male Portuguese high-school student) I think that employers will see that they [women] will be having children, missing work to look after them, leave work early and the option is towards men who do not have those kinds of problems. (male Portuguese administrator) I think there are situations where a female worker doesn’t become permanent because she can eventually become pregnant and go on sick leave. (female Portuguese administrator) In contrast, the UK focus groups emphasised that personal and implicitly gender-neutral skills and qualities mattered as regards getting jobs. The youngest participants were most likely to have this view. I:

A: B: I: C: D:

And do you think it’s going to be, do you think it’s easier for boys, men or women these days to get jobs? Is there a difference between the boys and the girls you know? Not among ourselves. Not any more. You don’t think there’s any, um, sex discrimination? Well not . . . Most employers today are equal opportunity employers, so there shouldn’t be any difference. (18-year-old female UK secretarial students)

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In the UK young mothers with ‘house-husbands’ noted that they still got asked questions about childcare even when they explained their own personal situation (see Chapter 7). In Sweden, some men and women said that it was easier for young men to get a job, because young women were more likely to be asked if they had children or intended to have them. However, among both the Swedish and UK respondents there was considerable sensitivity to possible ‘slights’ to men – with occasional references being made by Swedish respondents to parental leave as increasing employers’ sensitivity to the possibility that fathers might take time off to care for their children. The Irish and Portuguese respondents were particularly likely to refer to gendered difficulties as regards promotion: ‘they have to work a lot harder to get to the better positions than the males I think . . . men do not need as much qualification as the women’ (male Irish hotel manager, high education). They noted that in male-dominated areas ‘it is not enough to be as good as the next male, you are going to have to be that bit better’ (female Irish vocational trainee, high education) and ‘There are some positions where they clearly prefer a man or a woman . . . there’s a certain chauvinism in relation to executive positions’ (female Portuguese administrator). At the other end, low-skilled and low-paying areas were seen as appropriate for women: ‘It’s all men in the good jobs, it’s the same everywhere’ except for ‘the little skivvies’ jobs’; ‘in the catering area men get the jobs like head chef and women don’t’ (Irish women temporary employees, low education). They wryly noted that changes in gendered patterns seemed to occur only in areas that were unskilled and unattractive: ‘there’s eleven girls cleaning the roads’ (Irish unemployed woman, low education). The complexity of the cultural situation was illustrated by the fact that female Irish postgraduates saw women’s subservient attitudes as increasing their attractiveness as employees: ‘It sounds very negative but being slightly less confident and slightly less cocky – it works’. The rapidity of the change in Irish women’s occupancy of positions of authority can be illustrated by the fact that women now constitute 28 per cent of proprietors/administrators/managers – as compared with 5 per cent in 1971. However, whereas women occupy 65 per cent of positions in the professional services they hold only 9 per cent of those at senior management level in the Civil Service; the local authorities; the universities, etc. (O’Connor, 1998, 2000b). Thus, it is arguable that the recent – and incomplete – gendered transformation has served to heighten an awareness of it. Nevertheless, the price of advancement at an identity level was still depicted as high in a context where cultural attitudes militated against women holding positions of authority: I don’t think men like taking authority from women . . . The most serious job I had there was only one woman out of say twenty at the top, and she was just . . . she wasn’t well respected. That’s the image you get: you have to be a real bitch to get anywhere in work. (female Irish postgraduate student)

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It was striking that even in countries such as Sweden that were highly ranked on the UN Gender Related Indices, there were clear perceptions of discrimination as regards access to positions of authority. Thus, Swedish highly educated women who were employed in multinational organisations said that: ‘You have to be twice as competent to be taken seriously and even then it is very easy to make a mistake, and then you’re not good enough any more . . . I feel that if I were to become a foreman, as a woman I would be in a living hell’ (female Swedish on temporary contracts, high education). Such patterns are compatible with the relatively low proportion of women who are in executive/managerial jobs in Sweden (United Nations, 2000). It was striking that most of the Irishmen in the focus groups did not think that men were more competent than women and they felt ambivalent about a normative context that provided men with a ‘dividend’ as men: ‘I don’t think it should make a difference, to be honest. That’s just the way things are although it shouldn’t be in my opinion . . . People should be judged on their abilities’ (male Irish vocational trainee, high education). None of the men in any of the countries saw men as having a responsibility to change the system. At one level they accepted that the system was unfair to women, at another level they did not ‘see’ it this way – exemplifying the difference between what Haugaard (1997) has called discursive and practical consciousness: Most women would like to think that they are able to do anything, I think most women are . . . But men are still looked at as more dominant, even though they are not, they [men] are looked for in the management positions . . . You just have to look at top executives of any company or anything like that and they are all men. So I presume there must be some disadvantage for women. But I wouldn’t see it. (male Irish postgraduate student) Similar patterns emerged in the Portuguese focus groups – with references being made to some men’s reluctance to recognise women’s abilities: R1:

R2:

Men don’t want to admit this but more and more they recognise women’s capabilities and I don’t think there’s a difference between a professional man and a professional woman. Some people are not biased anymore. It is just that men won’t admit that women are just as competent as them. (female Portuguese university students in their late teens)

Overall, then, references to a gendered structural reality in the paid-employment context were most likely to occur among Irish and Portuguese focus groups. Irish respondents referred mainly to women’s under-representation in senior positions and attitudinal barriers, while discrimination on the grounds of marital status and pregnancy were particularly likely to be referred to by Portuguese men and

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women. The perception was thus one of discrimination against women as regards promotion even in Sweden, and a devaluing of women and women’s work in the paid-employment area. Irish and Portuguese respondents saw men as having unearned privileges. The respondents recognised that the basis for both discrimination and privilege was tradition rather than merit but they were ambivalent about this.

More complex realities and contradictions The organisation of talk is seen as a topic of study in its own right (Garfinkel, 1967; Edwards and Potter, 1992) and contradictions, confusion and inconsistency in everyday talk is viewed as central to understanding participants’ views. Earlier discourse-analysis studies have demonstrated that the area of work and family expectations is often fraught with inconsistencies (Condor, 1986; Wetherell et al., 1987; Walkerdine, 1990; Athanasiadou, 1997). Billig (1989) argues that inconsistencies in everyday discourse are important for showing how mutually accepted ‘commonsense’ notions – socially shared beliefs, images, moral values and knowledge – are often in conflict. We live in societies where much is made of the importance of equality, and where it is assumed that such equality – albeit at a basic level – exists, that it is a key entitlement of all citizens (Lynch, 1999). Indeed, there are pressures towards political correctness in the sense that in certain public contexts (particularly in the UK) it is socially inappropriate to refer to the existence of discrimination. In Scandinavia, with their very much longer tradition of gendered citizenship, an equality discourse is part of what has been called a ‘silent discourse’ – a takenfor-granted reality. In contrast, in many of the Irish and Portuguese focus groups, issues surrounding the nature of equality and the appropriateness of attempts to deal with a gendered reality are much more openly contested. Nevertheless, even in such contexts, there was a great deal of confusion about the nature of equality, in part reflecting its depiction as synonymous with formal rights and equality of opportunities (Lynch, 1999) and in part in its reference more or less exclusively, to paid employment. Thus some of the respondents looked at what they saw as the most important areas of their lives (childcare and family responsibilities) and assessed the reality of equality in terms of what they saw or experienced there. Others juxtaposed their own observations or experiences in the paid employment area and concluded that ‘real’ equality (implicitly in terms of outcome) did not exist even in this area. Such tensions have been recognised in other studies. For example Benschop and Doorewaard (1998), showed that although men in the Dutch banking sector had higher status and higher-paid jobs, employees in that sector stated in interviews that men and women were equal and that they had equal opportunities. They explained the continued existence of gendered patterns on grounds that appear to have nothing to do with gender (e.g. by emphasising that skills and qualities mattered, not gender). Contradictions existed at several levels within the data. The most obvious of these was where the respondents themselves recognised a contradiction between

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their endorsement of a gender-neutral discourse and yet were confronted with a very clearly gendered reality in both the public and private arenas. This occurred particularly among the Irish and Portuguese respondents. Thus a discourse of gender-neutrality was juxtaposed with the reality, where women were under-represented in high political office: R1: R2: R3:

We will see the number of ministers. That’s another case. That’s where we find real discrimination. (male Portuguese students)

Similarly the Irish respondents juxtaposed their perception of a gender-neutral reality with their actual observations: ‘It’s nice to think that everything is equal now . . . but looking at it from the outside it is still the women in the home who are looking after the kids, cleaning the home’ (Irish woman supervisor, high education). Similarly, contradictions between a gender-neutral discourse and the assertion of persisting physical or innate differences implicitly highlighted the limitations of the concept of equality: ‘I think we are getting more equal aren’t we, I mean we can do whatever they can do now, it’s just children that stop us really’ (unemployed UK single mother). For the Irish women in this study the bottom line involved the sharing of domestic tasks and this was seen as very much a dream (with Portuguese respondents also describing it as ‘virtual reality’). In some groups there was an attempt to reconcile a gender-neutral discourse of equality with a discourse which recognised immutable gender differences. Thus, for example the inconsistency was resolved by suggesting that the difficulty lay with their own choice of a spouse: ‘we married the wrong men’. In this as in other situations ‘individual decisions are heavily dependent on outside influences’ (Beck and Beck-Gernsheim, 1995: 40). The question whether the ‘right men’ exist is not asked: R1: R2: R3: R2:

We have equalness now. I’d say the man though somehow . . . Because you can’t expect . . . because the man won’t cook your dinner . . . the man won’t wash your clothes. We met the wrong men. I know it is a bit like back in the 60s but . . . we just married the wrong men. (unemployed Irish women, low education)

Finch (1989) has usefully highlighted the distinction between normative ideas and the kind of negotiated practices that emerged in specific situations. For example, the UK secretarial student women felt that if their partners and themselves were doing the same number of hours paid employment, they should do the same amounts of domestic work. In fact, however, the negotiated order within their relationships meant that in practice this was not what happened.

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Thus, it is arguable that male privileging as regards domestic work was not part of the negotiated order within these relationships. R1:

R2: I: R3:

If you’ve both got the same hours in the job then it should be equal, but if you stayed at home and he didn’t then you should do more than your husband or whatever, but if he stayed at home and you went to work then he should do more than you do. Yeah. So would the boys you know be like that, if they lived with someone? They’d be off down town all day wouldn’t they? (female UK secretarial students)

Some of the participants were well aware of the contradictions between their normative definitions of gender roles and the unequal practices in their families. They noted with irritation that they slipped back into patriarchal privileging when they were in their family of origin, despite their normative commitments to shared domestic work. While these UK women say they would like a more equal sharing of domestic work, they also tolerate the unequal sharing they have experienced in their own relationships. Significantly, some of them did not even imagine bringing up their children differently. R1:

R2: R1: R2: R1:

I: R3: R4:

I just look at my own family, um, the way my father doesn’t even know where the kettle is, never mind how to boil it. I actually go home and find myself dipping into this subservience and it’s automatic. I do that when I go home, find myself making cups of tea for people. Yeah polishing shoes. And think why am I doing that? When he’s just sat on his bum . . . looking at teletext. But I do think it’s slightly better but not a lot, because they take their example from an early age from their parents, it’s going to take several generations to get through it. Do you think you’d bring your children up differently from the way you were brought up. No. It would be nice to say yes, but I don’t think so. (UK professional women)

As Billig (1991) argues, commonsense opinions reflect and reproduce prevailing ideologies. This appears to have been occurring in this study. The ideology of already achieved equality ignores and denies existing power differences (Benschop and Doorewaard, 1998). So equal opportunities policies and practices are hindered in effectiveness by this. Among some of the Irish and among the British, other than among the Asian groups, there was a strong sense that the problem of equality was ‘solved’ – gender equality was seen to have prevailed – at least partly because of the perceived efficacy of legislation:

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With all these equalities and lawsuits I think they will just . . . regardless of sex they will just employ you – man or woman. (unemployed Irish woman, low education) In this day and age, with equal opportunities and everything. It’s the same really you know. (male Irish skilled manual-worker in catering) The awareness of discrimination was most common in the Irish and Portuguese focus groups and was particularly explicit among the Portuguese. When asked if there was discrimination, female Portuguese administrators said: ‘Of course not in some sectors, but there are others, like the factories in the North, where it is obvious. Women earn sometimes half of what men earn, and in the agriculture it’s the same.’ Similarly, young male Portuguese university students said: R1: R2: R3:

It’s easier for men. There is still discrimination. We still haven’t been able to eliminate it completely. I think so. All you have to do is consult the statistics. In the economic indices there’s a part that speaks of discrimination in the work place. It says that women are discriminated against that’s scientific – it’s palpable. (male Portuguese university students)

In the Irish and to a lesser extent the UK focus groups it was men and not women who felt most comfortable using the language of discrimination, with men occasionally depicting themselves as victims: They won’t want to take on a male secretary: Some places men won’t even try [for a job] such as women’s clothes shops. (male Irish vocational trainee, moderate education) Late 20s, 30-something white man is the most discriminated group in job hunting. This whole political correctness thing. You could have a man and a woman with identical qualifications, identical experience, the whole shebang and you might get a call down from head office – we’ll give the job to her. (male UK blue-collar worker) Even in contexts where gendered patterns which disadvantaged women were recognised, women were ambivalent about any kind of positive action – wanting to succeed as they saw it on their own (ungendered) merit: ‘I’d be worried that I was brought on because they had to have a certain percentage of women’ (female Irish supervisor in catering, high education). Thus, although at one level the structural reality of gender and its implications as regards women’s promotion

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were recognised, at another level they had accepted a simplistic idea of equality with men and so were opposed to any kind of structurally created gendered advantage for women. Similarly, both male and female UK participants argued that positive discrimination was not acceptable: I was looking for jobs in engineering, I was applying to the big blue-chip companies and they have to have a quota every year . . . one of the companies I actually applied for basically said, we need women you’ve got the job regardless of what the interview said, and I was, I don’t want it thank you, and walked out. (female UK engineer) Among the UK respondents, such patterns can be seen as linked to a discourse which stressed individual choice. Among the UK respondents there was a general assumption that equality and lack of gender discrimination in the workplace could or should be taken for granted. Equal opportunities policies were most approved of when participants constructed them as widening individual choice. For example, a male student approved of the notion of bringing in statutory paternity leave on the basis that it gives (women) more choice: ‘yes she should definitely have the choice’ (male UK law student). Thus, it is clear that although a discourse of normative gender equality existed, there were recognised limitations to the extent to which this was experienced by these young people and in the extent to which gender informed their negotiated practices in their own families and relationships. Given that many of these young people implicitly endorsed a narrow concept of equality, that focused on access to paid employment, contradictions emerged in the context of the materiality of their bodies; the whole area of domestic work; and even when they looked at the workplace at the level of outcome.

Summary and conclusions This chapter started from a position of recognising that gender is a critically important cultural and structural reality. It is recognised, however, that gender is frequently not perceived in this way, as the obscuring of gender is seen as a way of perpetuating gender’s structural reality and implicitly reinforcing a discourse of (degendered) individual choice. Using a discourse analytic approach we have analysed mainly focus-group material in the five countries (namely Ireland, the UK, Norway, Sweden and Portugal). We have looked particularly at young people’s awareness of gendered realities at a cultural level (as reflected in concepts of adulthood), and at a structural level (as reflected in attitudes and practices surrounding recruitment and promotion in the paid employment arena). In addition, we have looked at the more subtle contradictions and inconsistencies between their normative discourses and their own experiences and observations. These young adults did not generally relate their experiences to social and political factors which play a large part in when, if and how people form families,

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and what sort of work and working patterns people participate in (Walby, 1994; Duncan, 1996; den Dulk et al., 1999). Within the overall context of their lives, young men and women typically thought of themselves in a degendered way as ‘just young people’ and saw their life options as unaffected by gender. Across all the countries, but especially in the UK, there was a strong sense that the problem of equality was ‘solved’. Therefore the continued division of (paid) labour was justified, on the grounds that it had nothing to do with gender. However, a more in-depth investigation revealed a much more complex reality. It was striking that the breadwinner role was seen by both Irish men and women (regardless of educational level or occupation) as a crucial element in men’s definition of themselves as men. There was some recognition that this breadwinner definition was fragile in view of wider social changes. A similar concept of manhood was articulated by Norwegian and Portuguese workingclass men – specifically those in what would be regarded as stereotypically male occupations (shipbuilding and construction). In the UK groups the discourse of choice was strongly endorsed, within what purported to be a gender-neutral context. Indeed, among some of the UK men there appeared to be a much greater normative acceptance of role reversal. However, these men stressed what they presented as gender-neutral structural pressures which would militate against role reversal (such as difference in wage levels, length of working hours, etc.). They ignored the fact that these structural patterns are also gendered and so obscured a gendered discourse by what was fallaciously presented as a pragmatic adjustment reflecting individual or couple choices. Across all five countries there was a considerable stress on the fact that childcare responsibilities were disproportionately discharged by women. So, even in Norway and Sweden, and despite their position on the UN Gender Indices, gendered ideologies and patterns as regards division of labour in the home persisted. An essentialist and very broadly based and long-term concept of motherhood was apparent among the Irish respondents. In the Irish and the Portuguese focus groups, there was a strong awareness of women’s emotional superiority (particularly in the context of running a home and family). These countries have similar rankings on the UN Gender Development Indices (United Nations, 1998) and a strong tradition of educational superiority (Rubery et al., 1996). However, Irish and Portuguese respondents’ views about women’s strength and competence sat uneasily with the recognition that women’s work inside and outside the labour market was not valued. The Irish and Portugese respondents were particularly likely to refer to gendered difficulties in the area of paid employment (as regards promotion and pregnancy). In both cases there was a clear recognition that women were discriminated against in the area of paid employment. In the context of paid employment, among the Irish and the Portuguese respondents there was a tension between their ‘discursive consciousness’ of equality in terms of equality of opportunity and their practical consciousness (Haugaard, 1997) of a world which was hierarchically male-dominated. Men in both countries felt uneasy about their unearned privileges. They clung to the idea that ‘that’s just the way things are’; that it was ‘inevitable’ and ‘natural’ – ideas which, as

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Connell (1995a and 1995b) has noted, underpin the perceived legitimacy of the system. Even in countries such as Sweden there were clear perceptions of discrimination as regards access to positions of authority. So, it is possible that the reconciliation of work and family which has been facilitated in Sweden has inadvertently reinforced women’s position at the lower end of the occupational hierarchy. It was also very clear that there were considerable tensions and contradictions in these young people’s ideas about equality. There were strong elements of wish-fulfilment among the UK and Scandinavian women concerning the division of domestic labour – with no clear distinction being made between what they felt should exist and what did exist. UK men referred to practical considerations (such as pay or hours worked) and so maintained a rhetoric of equality, with no commitment to actual change in behaviour. In Ireland and Portugal the chasm between discourses about equality and the perceived reality of its absence was much more overt. On the one hand, as the Irish respondents saw it, ‘We have equalness now’; but the limitations of this were patently obvious to them, ‘Because you can’t expect . . . because the man won’t cook your dinner . . . the man won’t wash your clothes.’ To a degree perhaps not fully appreciated, young people across Europe have grown up in a societal context where a crucial issue has been women’s ability to participate in a ‘men’s world’ (i.e. the world of paid employment, politics, etc.). This ‘push towards the insertion of women into patriarchal history’ (Braidotti, 1994: 163) and the ideology of individual choice have created a context where young people start from a position of implicitly accepting a discourse of gender equality and under-estimating ‘the systematic structuring of relations of domination’ (Charles, 1996: 10). A key issue is how to expose the structural and cultural inequalities and the subtle contradictions beneath such realities and ideologies of choice in the context of limited and confused ideas about equality. This has been the concern underlying this chapter.

References Acker, J. (1988) ‘Class, gender and the relations of distribution’, Signs, 13(3): 473–97. Acker, J. (1991) ‘Hierarchies, jobs, bodies: a theory of gendered organisations’, in J. Lorber and S. A. Farrel (eds) The Social Organisation of Gender, London: Sage. Acker, J. (1998) ‘The future of “gender and organisations”: connections and boundaries’, Gender, Work and Organisation, 5(4): 195–206. Athanasiadou, C. (1997) ‘Postgraduate women talk about family and career’, Feminism and Psychology, 7(3): 321–7. Baumann, Z. (1997) Postmodernity and Its Discontents, Cambridge: Polity Press. Baxter, J. (2000) ‘The joys and justice of housework’, Sociology, 34(4): 609–31. Beck, U. (1992) Risk Society: Towards a New Modernity, London: Sage. Beck, U. (1994) ‘The reinvention of politics: towards a theory of reflexive modernization’, in Ulrich Beck, Anthony Giddens and Scott Lash, Reflexive Modernization: Politics, Tradition and Aesthetics in the Modern Social Order, Cambridge: Polity Press.

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Beck, U. and Beck-Gernscheim, E. (1995) The Normal Chaos of Love, Cambridge: Polity Press. Benschop, Y. and Doorewaard, H. (1998) ‘Covered by equality: the gender subtext of organizations’, Organization Studies, 19(5): 787–805. Billig, M. (1989) ‘The argumentative nature of holding strong views: a case study’, European Journal of Social Psychology, 19(3): 203–24. Billig, M. (1991) Ideology and Opinions: Studies in Rhetorical Psychology, London: Sage. Billig, M., Condor, S., Edwards, D., Crane, M., Middleton, D. and Radley, A. (1988) Ideological Dilemmas: A Social Psychology of Everyday Thinking, London: Sage. Bottero, W. (1998) ‘Clinging to the wreckage?: gender and the legacy of class’, Sociology, 32(3): 469–90. Braidotti, R. (1994) Nomadic Subjects: Embodiment and Sexual Difference in Contemporary Feminist Theory, New York: Columbia Press. Burgoyne, C. B. and Lewis, A. (1994) ‘Distributive justice in marriage: equality or equity?’, Journal of Community and Applied Social Psychology, 4(2): 101–14. Charles, N. and F. Hughes-Freelans (eds) Practicing Feminism, London: Routledge. Clare, A. (2000) On Men: Masculinity in Crisis, London: Chatto and Windus. Cockburn, C. (1991) In the Way of Women: Men’s Resistance to Sex Equality in Organisations, London: Macmillan. Condor, S. (1986) ‘Sex-role beliefs and “traditional” women: feminist and intergroup perspectives’, in S. Wilkinson (ed.) Feminist Social Psychology, Milton Keynes: Open University Press. Connell, R. W. (1995a/1987) Gender and Power, Oxford: Blackwell. Connell, R. W. (1995b) Masculinities, Cambridge: Polity Press. Connell, R. W. (1999) ‘Making gendered people’, in M. M. Ferree, J. Lorber and B. B. Hess (eds) Revisioning Gender, London: Sage. Cooper, P., Diamond, I. and High, S. (1993) ‘Choosing and using contraceptives: integrating qualitative and quantitative methods in family planning’, Journal of the Market Research Society, 35(4): 325–29. Coverman, S. W. (1989) ‘Women’s work is never done: the division of domestic labour’, in J. Freeman (ed.) Women: A Feminist Perspective, fourth edition, CA: Mayfield. Cowan, J. (1996) ‘Being a feminist in contemporary Greece: similarity and difference reconsidered’, in N. Charles and F. Hughes-Freelans (eds) Practicing Feminism, London: Routledge. Dally, G. (1996) Ideologies of Caring, Basingstoke: Macmillan. Daly, M. (1978) Gyn/Ecology, Boston: Beacon Press. Desmarais, S. and Curtis, J. (1997) ‘Gender and perceived pay entitlement: testing for effects of experience with income’, Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 72(1): 141– 50. Drudy, S. and Lynch, K. (1993) Schools and Society in Ireland, Dublin: Gill and MacMillan. den Dulk, L., van Doorne-Huiskes, A. and Schippers, J. (1999) Work–Family Arrangements in Europe, Amsterdam: Thela Thesis. Duncan, S. (1996) ‘The diverse worlds of European patriarchy’, in M. Dolors GarciaRamon and J. Monk (eds) Women of the European Union: The Politics of Work and Daily Life, London: Routledge. Edwards, D. and Potter, J. (1992) Discursive Psychology, London: Sage. European Commission (1997) Youth in the European Union: From Education to Working Life, Luxembourg: Office for Official Publications of the European Commission.

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Eurostat (1997) Labour Force Survey: Results 1996, Luxembourg: Office for Official Publications of the European Commission. Eurostat (1998) ‘How evenly are earnings distributed?’, Statistics in Focus: Population and Social Conditions, 15. Finch, J. (1989) Family Obligations and Social Change, Cambridge: Polity Press. Garfinkel, H. (1967) Studies in Ethnomethodology, Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice-Hall. Gough, B. (1998) ‘Men and the discursive reproduction of sexism: repertoires of difference and equality’, Feminism and Psychology, 8(1): 25–50. Halford, S. (1992) ‘Feminist change in a patriarchal organisation’, in M. Savage and A. Witz (eds) Gender and Bureaucracy, Oxford: Blackwell/Sociological Review. Halford, S., Savage, M. and Witz, M. (1997) Gender, Careers and Organisations, London: Macmillan. Haugaard, M. (1997) The Constitution of Power, Manchester: Manchester University Press. Katz, A. (1997) The ‘Can Do’ Girls: A Barometer of Change, report funded by the Body Shop, Oxford. Kiely, G. (1995) ‘Fathers in families’, in I. Colgan McCarthy (ed.) Irish Family Studies: Selected Papers, Dublin: UCD: 147–58. Lewis, S., Smithson, J., Brannen J., das Dores Guerrero, M., Kugelberg, C., Nilsen, A. and O’Connor, P. (1998) Futures on Hold: Young Europeans Talk about Combining Work and Family, Manchester: IOD: Work–Life Research Centre. Lewis, S., Smithson, J. and Brannen J. (1999) ‘Young Europeans’ orientations to families and work’, Annals AAPSS, March: 83–97. Lukes, S. (1974) Power: A Radical View, London: Macmillan. Lynch, K. (1999) Equality, Dublin: Gill and MacMillan. Lynch, K. and Morgan, V. (1995) ‘Gender and education: north and south’, in P. Clancy, S. Drudy, K. Lynch and L. O’Dowd (eds) Irish Society: Sociological Perspectives, Dublin: Institute of Public Administration. Mahon, E. (1994) ‘Ireland: a private patriarchy?’, Environment and Planning A, 26: 1,277– 96. Marshall, H. and Wetherell, M. (1989) ‘Talking about career and gender identities: a discourse analysis perspective’, in S. Skevington and D. Baker, The Social Identity of Women, London: Sage, pp. 106–29. McKeown, K., Ferguson, H. and Rooney, D. (1998) Changing Fathers? Cork: Collins Press. O’Connor, P. (1998) Emerging Voices: Women in Contemporary Irish Society, Dublin: Institute of Public Administration. O’Connor, P. (1999b) Power, Equality and Difference: The Perspective of Young Europeans, paper presented in June at the International Conference on Women’s Worlds, Tromso, Norway. O’Connor, P. (2000a) ‘Changing places: privilege and resistance in contemporary Ireland’, Sociological Research Online, 5(3) (http:www.socresonline.org.uk/5/3/o’connor.html). O’Connor, P. (2000b) ‘Ireland: a man’s world?’, The Economic and Social Review, 31(1): 81– 102. O’Connor, P. and Shortall, S. (1999a) ‘Does the border make the difference?’, in A. Heath, R. Breen and C. Whelan (eds) Ireland North and South: Perspectives from Social Science, Oxford: British Academy. O’Hara, P. (1998) Partners in Production, Oxford: Bergahn Books. Potter, J. and Wetherell, M. (1987) Discourse and Social Psychology, London: Sage.

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Rivera Fuentes (1996) ‘They do not dance alone: the women’s movements in Latin America’, in T. Cosslett et al. (eds) Women, Power and Resistance, Buckingham and Philadelphia: Open University Press. Rubery, T. and Fagan, C. (1993) Occupational Segregation of Men and Women in the European Community, Social Europe series, EC and Manchester. Rubery, J., Smith, M. and Fagan, C. (1996) Trends and Prospects for Women’s Employment in the 1990s, Brussels: Equal Opportunities Unit. Rubery, J., Smith, M. and Fagan, C. (1998) ‘National working-time regimes and equal opportunities’, Feminist Economics, 4(1): 71–101. Savage, M. (1992) ‘Women’s expertise, men’s authority: gendered organisation and the contemporary middle class’, in M. Savage and A. Witz (eds) Gender and Bureaucracy, Oxford: Blackwell/Sociological Review. Stokoe, E. H. (1998) ‘Talking about gender: the conversational construction of gender categories in academic discourse’, Discourse and Society, 9(2): 217–40. Sullivan, O. (2000) ‘The division of domestic labour: twenty years of change’, Sociology, 34(3): 437–56. United Nations (1995) Human Development Report, Oxford: Oxford University Press. United Nations (1998) Human Development Report, Oxford: Oxford University Press. United Nations (2000) Human Development Report, Oxford: Oxford University Press. Walby, S. (1990) Theorising Patriarchy, Oxford: Blackwell. Walby, S. (1994) ‘Is citizenship gendered?’ Sociology, 28(2): 379–95. Walkerdine, V. (1990) School Girl Fictions, London, Verso. Wetherell, M., Stiven, H. and Potter, J. (1987) ‘Unequal egalitarianism: a preliminary study of discourses concerning gender and employment opportunities’, British Journal of Social Psychology, 26: 59–71. Wilkinson, H. (1994) Generations and the Genderquake, London: Demos.

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7

Imagining parenthood and employment Connected or disconnected worlds? Julia Brannen, Clarissa Kugelberg, Maria das Dores Guerreiro and Janet Smithson

Introduction In Chapter 4, we suggested that young people vary in how they respond to questions about the future and how they envisage adulthood in the future. We put forward three ideal-typical ways. Some (younger) young people (still in vocational training) suggest that they live very much in the present and orientate themselves to their present status as ‘young people’. In so far as they take a longer-term view, they make assumptions about adulthood which typically take for granted the old order of their parents’ lives and their own childhoods. Some (older) young people (in higher education and in graduate employment) speak about the future in terms of how they will fulfil both their ambitions for employment and family life, but think that it is very much ‘up to them’ to work out ways of achieving it by making short-term plans according to changing circumstances. Yet other young people (particular groups of young men) are set on more clearly charted (male breadwinner) courses into adulthood. In this chapter we focus not upon the future per se but specifically on two future life-course phases – the decision to have a child and to combine employment with parenthood, and upon young people’s views about these essentially hypothetical decisions. In presenting the different discourses or discussions, we suggest the ways in which the methodology of the study – including the fieldwork process – serves to reproduce these discourses and how these embed dominant assumptions within the societies which young people inhabit. As we set out in Chapter 1, the five countries in our study differ considerably in terms of maternal employment trends and in their histories of public policy and social institutions (see also Chapter 8). At a more fundamental level, these differences are shaped in each society by ideologies and practices concerning parenthood, employment and childhood. There is variation both within as well as between countries in the assumptions which shape public practice and private experience. At one extreme, a mother takes care of the child on a full-time basis – relying upon a male breadwinner. At the other extreme, both parents engage in labour market activity together with some form of formal support, typically from the state (parental-leave policies and sponsored childcare) but sometimes from employers. Depending upon the country and the particular context, a

Imagining parenthood and employment 117 combination of mother/parent care and ‘other care’ is typically involved and a mix of different types of formal and informal support. In relation to the issue of combining employment with parenthood, it is widely agreed that in public-policy terms the Nordic countries have produced highly supportive environments for parents and children, although it is important to distinguish among different Nordic countries. The Norwegian maternal employment rate was much slower to take off than that of Sweden, Denmark and Finland.1 However, as Leira (1999) has shown, policy approaches, notably in Norway and Sweden, but also in other Nordic states, have bifurcated. The original public policies of state-sponsored childcare for children and generous rights to maternity, paternity, parental leave and (in Sweden) reduced working hours (until children reach a certain age) were instituted to facilitate dual-earner and care-sharing parenthood, thereby aiming to transform both gender identities and gender inequalities in the domestic division of labour (Hinnfors, 1992; Kugelberg, 1999). These policies were also ‘child friendly’ as well as being ‘woman friendly’ (Hernes, 1987). While state-sponsored childcare has grown dramatically, pressure from the escalating costs of welfare states and from the recession of the early 1990s have led to larger groups of children in the daycare centres in Sweden and to larger staff–child ratios. Moreover, parental leave schemes have been slow in bringing fathers home to care for children, although in Norway2 and Sweden3 the introduction of the ‘daddy month’ has had a substantial effect. In recent years these public policies in Norway have been challenged by policies which expand the rights of informal carers and thereby strengthen traditional gender arrangements, albeit couched in the gender-neutral language of ‘parental choice’. This is done by the provision of cash transfers and social security benefits for informal carers. It is not possible to paint a comparable picture for each of the other very different countries in the study with respect to these issues (see also Chapters 1 and 8). The escalation in mothers’ employment in Portugal, and more recently in the UK, does not represent the same type of social phenomenon as it does in Nordic countries. Unlike in the Nordic countries, the increase in maternal employment did not parallel the growth of the welfare state and the public sector more generally. In Portugal the increase in women’s employment parallels the fall in fertility rates, the rise in educational opportunities for women and the growth of large numbers of jobs in the service sector, as Portugal’s largely agrarian economy assumed less importance (Machado and Firmino da Costa, 2000). The high rate of almost all full-time employment of mothers also reflects the need for both parents to work in Portugal’s context of low wages and high cost of living as the country entered the European Union. This high employment rate is not buttressed by public policy. In general the welfare state is weak in Portugal while any public childcare has tended to be provided by religious organisations, although this is changing as both public and private childcare has begun to grow (Ministerio do Trabalho e da Solidariedade, 2000). Parental leave, introduced under the influence of the European Union, is largely unpaid. Thus in Portugal, the arrival of mothers in the labour market has been largely a matter of macro- and

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micro-economics in which most of the costs and support have been born by families themselves. Moreover, traditional assumptions about gender identities and opportunities have yet to be addressed. The UK again has a different history, with the employment of mothers of young children rising from a very low rate only from the end of the 1980s (Brannen et al., 1997), a time in which the welfare state began to be cut back. In contrast to all the countries in the study the UK has long had very high rates of employment among mothers of school-age children (aged 5 and over) who work in part-time (often low-skilled and low-paid) jobs with short hours. Like Portugal and Ireland, the UK has never had a public childcare policy (except for children deemed to be ‘in need’) until the current government came to power in 1997. In the late 1990s when this study took place and with a New Labour government in power (1997), Britain was moving rapidly away from a model based upon the male-breadwinner to a dual-earner society (albeit most mothers are still parttime employed). Public benefits are closely tied to labour-market participation; this is particularly the case with respect to low earners, typically lone-parent families with children who are now being pressed to join the labour market under the New Deal for Lone Parents. At the same time, much of the onus in achieving the goal, which is framed in the gender-neutral terms of ‘parental employment’, is being placed by government upon employers rather than upon the state. What the government now terms ‘work–life balance’ policies which employers are encouraged to develop for ‘business reasons’ are seen as offering solutions to Britain’s working parents, and are seen as preferable to paid parental leave and an innovative review of children’s services (HMSO, 2000). As in Britain and many other European Union member states, since the mid1980s Irish women are staying on in employment following childbirth. However, rates are still very low compared with other European countries. Moreover Ireland, like Portugal, has a low (but rising) proportion of people in part-time employment as a proportion of total employment, in contrast to Sweden and the UK (Hantrais, 1999). The public-policy context relating to parental employment is similar to that of Portugal and the UK, notably in its absence of public childcare (European Commission Network on Child Care, 1996). However, unlike in the UK in recent years Ireland has shown more commitment to the public sector, with very high proportions of the female workforce occupying public sector and professional service occupations, albeit at the lower end of the occupational scales (Fitzgerald, 2000; O’Connor, 2000). Three current trends in Ireland are important to bear in mind. The first is the ‘major metamorphosis’ which is taking place in Ireland’s economic fortunes (since the late 1990s) (Fitzgerald, 2000) which has led to the tightening of the labour market. The second is that, compared to the EU average, there is a higher completed fertility rate for Irish women and a lower life expectancy for all Irish people, which means that Ireland’s population is still the youngest in Europe. Third, Ireland remains a highly patriarchal society despite the fact that women are now outperforming men in public examinations (Ruane and Sutherland, 1999).

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Making sense of hypothetical issues: young people’s family and work–family practices in the future For most young people in the study, these issues of parenthood and employment were hypothetical, that is, with the exception of the minority who were already parents (13 per cent). The questions we posed in the focus groups put pressure on young people to imagine what they might do in the future or what the future might hold for them. It is important to consider for a moment the methodological consequences of asking young people such questions. In terms of asking young people whether they anticipate becoming parents in the future, we may observe that it is difficult to respond other than in a personal way to the question. It is not surprising therefore that not all young people expressed a view when asked whether they expected to have children. Moreover, given the focus-group context in which the question was put, it was relatively easy, for some at least, to remain silent. In considering young people’s views about the conditions under which they might become parents and the desirability of combining parenthood with employment, we may first consider how the focus-group moderators framed the questions. Data need always to be considered and interpreted in the contexts in which they are generated; the questions researchers ask are an important part of that context. It is all the more urgent to engage in methodological reflection when questions touch on issues that relate to dominant normative assumptions, which are part of the taken-for-granted landscape of people’s lives, about the ‘proper’ way life should be lived. In the UK focus groups the question about combining employment with parenthood was typically posed by the focus-group moderator in such a way that it presumed there were different alternatives open to parents with respect to work and family life: can you see yourself giving up work when you had a child? Would you carry on working when your children were young? Posing questions in this way allowed young people to respond in terms of their ‘personal choices’, currently a leitmotiv of much British public policy. It suggested to young people that there might be alternatives that reflect the changes that are taking place in Britain in terms of public policy, dominant discourses, and dominant practices concerning mothers’ employment during the 1990s, especially the employment of mothers with young children. In the Irish groups the question was generally posed in such a way that it referred explicitly to gender assumptions concerning the desirability of full-time motherhood, which has long been the practice in Ireland in caring for children (albeit changes are starting to happen). The Irish moderator typically posed the question in this way, introducing the possibility of negative effects upon children – signified in the words ‘child would suffer’: ‘Some people would say that a preschool child would suffer if his/her mother [our emphasis] was employed and others would say it made no difference?’ In the Portuguese groups the question was usually framed in such a way that it reflected current employment behaviour – the very high employment rates

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among Portuguese mothers – rather than normative assumptions per se. In this case the presumption was made that Portuguese mothers would normally expect to be employed; the notion of leaving work to look after a young child was framed in terms of practical rather than normative fears about unemployment: ‘Would you consider having a child and being unemployed?’ In a number of cases, the Portuguese moderators did not pose the question at all but assumed that young people would expect to work if they had children. They went straight into asking the question: was it ‘easy to conciliate children with employment’? As in the UK group, the Norwegian and Swedish moderators offered young people the possibility of alternatives. The Nordic focus-group moderators posed the question in the following ways: would you think of staying at home with your child while your partner continued working? What is the best way of caring for a child, at home, pre-school or other care? However, unlike the UK moderator, Nordic moderators explicitly made reference to the ‘other partner’, thereby suggesting that this is an issue for both men and women. They also implied that the care of children in a range of different contexts is both possible and acceptable. The public policy of challenging gender inequalities and of supporting the care of children in different settings is thereby embedded in the underlying ideological assumptions of the focus-group moderator or in the process whereby the focus-group guide was interpreted in each country. Such initial framing of research questions, via the focus-group moderator is, however, only indicative of the ensuing subsequent focus-group discussions. The connection should not be considered causal. Indeed, whichever way the questions were framed young people responded in a number of different ways and there is no simple correspondence between the two modalities. As we shall show, many of the discussions around parenthood and around parenthood and employment made reference to general normative guidelines (Finch, 1989) but they did not do so exclusively. It is too simplistic to contend that focus-group discussions ‘simply reflect’ dominant public discourses. Rather, young people sought to relate general normative discussions to their own experiences and situations concerning the ‘proper thing to do’ (Finch, 1989). Moreover, it is of course important to acknowledge that the focus-group discussions were public discussions in the sense that they were conducted in a public context with other young people, some of whom they may have known and some of whom were strangers to them. Some times, and in other cases, young people’s accounts reflected the public focusgroup setting as well as being ‘public’ in the sense of discussing the ‘proper thing to do’ through references to the impersonal and the generalisable other. But, at other times and in other groups, young people gave ‘private accounts’; they spoke in personal ways, discussing normative guidelines with reference to their own experiences, especially to childhood, their parents’ lives and those of their friends. In short, young people moved between different modalities as they spoke about these hypothetical issues concerning parenthood and employment. We have identified three different types of modality in young people’s discussion of becoming a parent and with respect to combining employment and parenthood:

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2 3

normative accounts which are given in the form of evaluation or argumentation, and which relate to dominant public discourses concerning moral questions about the ‘right’ course of action; personal accounts, given in report or narrative form, in which young people bring to the focus-group discussion their own experiences; practical accounts, again in narrative or report form, which make reference to practical considerations: for example, concerning the necessity of paid work when people become parents.

Before we turn to the discourses of combining employment with parenthood, we discuss the discourses concerning becoming a parent.

Contemplating parenthood Childbirth has become less frequent in many European countries. In the 1990s fertility rates fell to an all time historical low in all European Union countries, to around two-thirds of the replacement level (Lutz, 1999), with Ireland continuing to have the highest fertility rate and Portugal the lowest in our study countries (Council for Europe, 1998). It was clear that many young people in the study were not thinking about having children in the foreseeable future while a few were already parents. In addition, a small number were clearly opposed to having children at any time. Those least inclined to imagine having children were the younger groups, the 18to 19-year-olds who were still in vocational training. Yet these young people frequently expressed the hope of having a family, an aspiration upon which they did not elaborate greatly. Moreover, many of these young people saw parenthood as something that would come ‘naturally’ when they got older; having a family life, if not having children explicitly, was taken for granted. For example, the Swedish 18- to19-year-olds in vocational training explored parenthood less than the others but their ideas were mostly consistent with the way they themselves had been brought up. It is significant that most of the Swedes had been brought up in a period of stability and affluence in which the welfare state provided high-quality services for children, a situation which is likely to be less true for the young people from Ireland, Portugal and the UK. There were some young people who did not envisage ever having children. Some young people in their late 20s thought that parenthood would hinder their ambitions for either a ‘good social life’ or for employment. They assumed that these ambitions would preclude the time and commitment which they considered would be needed to parent children properly. Such high ambitions for their social lives, for employment and for parenthood suggest that some young people may be reconceptualising the life course. They see these different goals as being set on a collision course and so opt for a life without family obligations. This view is illustrated by the comments of a 21-year-old Swedish woman who had qualifications to upper-secondary-school level and who was in a permanent job: ‘I have so much that I want to do in which there is no room for a child, so I can’t

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see any children in my life, but this might change . . . you never know.’ In addition, there were young people who would choose not to be parents on account of increasing uncertainties in society. A group of young Swedish people referred to unemployment, public welfare cuts in childcare placements and problems on a global scale. As discussed in Chapter 5, job insecurity also made it difficult for them to envisage becoming parents. A: B: C:

The social life is such – it doesn’t call for having children today, I think. There are mostly problems – no jobs, few pre-school places. No, you have no security and then you don’t want to have children, because you want to give your children security. If there were good pre-schools and not so many children at each department, if there were jobs and possibilities of getting part-time jobs, would it be easier? (three young Swedish women in temporary employment)

Young people across the countries made reference to a number of normative discourses which they considered should guide the decision whether or not to have a child: being the ‘right’ age; having ‘a life’ first; finishing their studies; finding a ‘partner’; having a secure job; and creating the right environment for bringing up children. Yet, in subscribing to these normative viewpoints concerning the ‘ideal’ conditions for parenthood, many of the discussions shifted between ‘public’ normative accounts to private statements of personal preference or accounts of their own experiences. In some cases they also talked about practicalities. Having children at the ‘right’ age Young people sought to constitute themselves as ‘responsible people’ in the sense of taking responsibility for their own actions. Having children at too young an age was seen to be normatively ‘irresponsible’. In the Swedish groups, young people referred in negative terms to young people they knew who had given birth ‘too young’. (Having children at an early age is not uncommon in Sweden but the general trend is, as elsewhere in Europe, towards later parenthood.) In the following discussion some young women talked in normative terms about the pressure to follow the trend towards older parenthood. A:

B: C:

It is a symbol of status to have children late, to think of yourself first, to manage your education first. One should live ‘life’ before having children, that is high status. If you have a child before 25 you’re stupid. I want to have children before the age of 25. Me too, I would not mind, but then you are considered to be really stupid, then you ruin your life. One should be 30. It is a real symbol of high status to wait a long time to have children. (18-year-old female Swedish nursing students)

Imagining parenthood and employment 123 There were clear gender differences here, with young men in much less of a hurry than young women to have children. As discussed in Chapter 4 many young women, especially those in older age groups, referred to the practical time pressures of the ‘biological clock’ and feared leaving childbirth until it was ‘too late’. ‘Well, I do not want to be too old, not over 30, then things change (25year-old unemployed Swedish woman). Another unemployed Swedish woman, aged 27, remarked that time was beginning to run out: I want a job because I want to travel, after 3, 5 years of unemployment you can’t plan a tour around the world, that is my dream, but at the same time I feel time is running out, one is getting too old, one thinks that if I shall have children I must start thinking a bit. In the following examples, some young people provided personal accounts which contest the normative guidelines of leaving child rearing until an ‘older age’. A Swedish university student aged 24 said: I feel that I do not want to be an old father. Well, if you get a child by the age of 38 to 40 you are in a way old. I believe that you do not have the vigour, I mean if you are 25 then you have the vigour to be with your child and when the child is 15 you manage better if you are 40 than if you are 55. By definition, such non-normative views were expressed by those who had broken the norm, that is those who were already parents. One young Irish professional worker, who was himself already a father of young children, explained that although only 23 now, he had enjoyed six years of ‘having a good time’. He went on to comment that he had thought of his own father as ‘an old man’ which made his own experience of being fathered difficult; leaving fatherhood to later might mean ‘you won’t be able to cope with it’, he suggested. This young man then went on to admonish the other (single) young men in the group: ‘So there’s my advice to you young man, have children now!’ An 18-year-old young Irish woman working in catering reflected on her own childhood experience of being parented and was mindful of the ‘friend-like relationship’ she had experienced with her own parents which, she thought, might be distorted by being an older parent: ‘You wouldn’t want to be an old mother.’ Having a life first Young people subscribed to normative discourses of youth as a time to ‘live your own life’, ‘to be selfish’, to travel the world (Lewis et al., 1988; Chapter 4). Becoming a parent was seen as the obverse of this. It would mean taking responsibility for others rather than taking care only of themselves. It would mean ‘settling down’: not being able to travel, not being able to study, not being

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mobile, bringing serious limitations on their ability to have new experiences and new relationships (boyfriends and girlfriends). In addition, what drove young people’s concerns were the current practical challenges that they faced at the time and had yet to overcome: to complete their training and education, to find a job and to earn money and, for those still living at home with parents, a key challenge, both normative and practical, was to become independent of their parents. Moreover, it would require money and secure employment. All these goals had to be met before they might decide to have a child. Finishing studies Young people considered that they ‘ought’ to finish their studies before contemplating parenthood, as well as being driven by the practicalities. The time young people spend in education and training is expanding in all five countries, albeit there are still marked differences between the countries in the length of time that women and men can expect to spend in employment over the life course even when educational level is controlled for (Moss and Deven, 1999). Even more significantly, the gender gap is closing, with women outstripping men in educational success. Girls feel they ought to try to succeed at school and college. In Sweden, more young women than young men are entering higher education (Nordin, 1999) and they get better results at secondary school (Båsjö and Svensson, 1999). In Portugal, twice as many young women aged 20–4 gain higher degrees (Machado and Firmino da Costa, 2000). Similarly in the UK and Ireland, girls currently outperform boys in school and post-compulsory education (Ruane and Sutherland, 1999; Arnot et al., 2000). A number of young people in the study who had had children ‘young’ and who had not stayed on in education and gained qualifications testified to the dominant norms of educational progress in the context of their not having followed the ‘proper’ route. A male Portuguese construction-worker expressed regret in retrospect and subscribed to the new normative guidelines: I would like to study (now). I even give more importance to school now than I did before. We used to play ball and forget school. Now I have a different perspective on life. Without education you can’t get a better job, better life conditions. But it is difficult even when we want to do it. Partners For most young people, parenting was normatively seen to require a partner. This meant living with another person. Single-parenthood, which meant in effect motherhood, was thought to be ‘very hard’, while most thought that the non-resident parent ought to be involved in their children’s upbringing. Because of the normative notion of parenthood involving two parents, some (young men) referred to the discourse of lone mothers as ‘selfish’ or feckless, while others were sympathetic.

Imagining parenthood and employment 125 In some of the UK groups, there was a related normative discourse of ‘parental responsibility’ which pervades recent UK legislation and implies that responsible adults only have children in conditions where they can afford to support them. A female UK community-worker sought to contest this morality with a different rationality: But I mean what about lone parents, ’cos like my colleague is a lone parent and there are a lot of times when she has to leave at a certain time to pick the child up from school, so that I know that I can’t get hold of her within certain hours, and it can be really frustrating, but at the same time I want to support the idea of somebody who’s bringing up a child on her own and being able to do that job, so it is quite frustrating. However, she then back-tracked, putting the onus on to the ‘responsible individual’ and the discourse of ‘parental responsibility’: ‘If you’re gonna have kids you’ve got to make a decision, a choice, haven’t you?’ (female UK communityworker). In this case, while lone motherhood was seen in practical terms as being difficult, and was sometimes sympathised with, it was simultaneously viewed (in keeping with current prevalent public discourses in Britain) as being, to some extent, the ‘fault of irresponsible and selfish women’. Normative discourses concerning lone motherhood were quite different in Sweden. Young men and women highlighted the normative importance of shared custody of children. They considered that both parents ought to be assigned the same responsibilities and rights in relation to their children, and that children should have close contact with both parents. Young people from Ireland and Portugal suggested that becoming a parent should normatively be preceded by marriage. However, across Europe marriage is losing its popularity; age at first marriage is rising, especially among the more highly educated. Cohabitation is, however, much more common in the UK and Scandinavian countries than in Portugal and Ireland (European Commission, 1997). Young Portuguese women tended to favour marriage, even though common-law marriages and lone parenthood have long been a feature of Portuguese society, particularly among the rural poor and urban working-classes (Dores Guerreiro, 1986). A young female Portuguese factory-worker commented that she will have to conform to the normative guidelines: ‘I’ll have to get married because . . . we live in a bureaucratic world which involves certain things and creates discrimination’ and ‘Look, there goes the girl who’s living with some man.’ A group of ‘older’ Irish women working in low-status jobs suggested that being married was the essential requirement for having children. However, in this case the women had been working for some years in jobs where they could not expect promotion. ‘I feel when you get to a certain age you are expected to get married and expected to have children.’ By contrast, among the young Swedish people the normative view was that cohabitation rather than marriage should precede parenthood. Cohabitation

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was seen as a way for the couple to get to know one another better and a means of testing the relationship. While cohabitation without marriage was generally the first step in living together for the generation born in 1949, however, half of these parents eventually married (SCB, 1995a). Today over 50 per cent of Swedish children are born to parents who are not married but who cohabit (SCB, 1995b). There is therefore no consensual way of starting a family in Sweden. Hence, in the Swedish focus groups the normative meaning of marriage was greatly contested. There was, moreover, a belief that people marry too quickly and divorce too easily. Some young Swedish people considered marriage to be an important symbolic act: to marry was seen as a sign of commitment or a sacred or moral step. Others said that marriage did not mean anything to them, except perhaps as legal regulation. To these young people, cohabitation meant commitment and symbolised family and mutual love. Rather, ‘a happy relationship’ was the key normative precondition for having children: ‘If you have a strong sense of wanting a child and a good relationship’ (23-year-old unemployed Swedish woman). Providing for children As discussed in Chapter 5, parenthood is normatively required to involve a secure job: having a child before having acquired a secure material situation was considered to be ‘irresponsible’. Most young men and women in all five countries saw a secure economic situation as basic to becoming a parent but saw this as difficult to achieve. A comment by a 22-year-old Swedish man illustrates this viewpoint: ‘Yes, I want children. But first I want a job and a happy relationship so that the child has something to come to. So first a job, then children – in this order.’ For a male Portuguese construction-worker, who was already a father of a young child, the job was everything, since welfare benefits are minimal in Portugal: ‘For me the most important thing is the job. Without it you have nothing, afterwards the family.’ In the Nordic countries, having children was presumed to require a high material standard of living, especially good housing. For example in Sweden having a ‘family house’ is a realisable normative expectation: 71 per cent of Swedish families with children live in single family houses (SCB, 1999), as suggested by a discussion among some female Swedish vocational students who also make reference to personal experiences in their own childhood: The first five years you must work because you need to. You might be able to save some money and acquire an organised life. I wonder if I would like to have children in a flat in town. I think that I would like to live in a house, because I was brought up in a house. We had a back yard, a garden, it was very nice – we lived in a neighbourhood with many playmates and it was very nice. So I don’t think that I would like to bring up my child in a flat in town. You should be able to afford a house before having children.

Imagining parenthood and employment 127 For young Norwegian and Swedish people, it also meant entitlement to parental rights such as working part-time and getting income compensation when staying at home with a newborn child or a sick child. (The impact of these rights for the expectations of various types of support for providing and caring in the future is discussed further in Chapter 8.) As noted above some young people, especially the younger groups, drew heavily upon their own experiences of childhood in thinking about the material prerequisites for becoming a parent. This is illustrated by an extract from a discussion among a group of Swedish nursing students: A:

B:

Hagaström is the best family place – playgrounds, toboggan runs and pre-schools – it is never more than 1,000 metres away – school, afterschool centre, sports fields, sports ground – there is everything (there). That’s the way you want to have it when you have children, that is for sure.

By contrast, those whose parents entered parenthood in relatively poor economic conditions rarely reflected on their parents’ difficulties in setting up house. In these cases, young people viewed parenthood in terms of the current normative models of modern parenthood – framed in terms of what is now seen to be ‘best for children’. As we have seen, young people make reference to a number of normative conditions which they consider ought to be achieved before deciding to become a parent. These normative expectations of parenthood are shaped by the social context of their societies: the expanding length of education and the increasing demands for qualifications by employers (occurring across all the countries), the insecurity of labour markets (notably in Sweden, Portugal and the UK at the time of the study), and the level of welfare support which varied in the different countries. Young people’s normative ideas are also grounded in ideas about what it means to be young today and also with respect to the needs of children. Especially in Norway and Sweden, parenthood was clearly seen from the point of view of what was ‘best for children’. Giving privilege to the needs of children was thought of as something that would come with maturity and thus would not contradict personal desires. Once having enjoyed a free, ‘selfish life’ for a period, many believed that they would then be ready to give priority to children’s needs. As this chapter shows, normative ideas about parenthood are interwoven with young people’s reflections upon their own lives, both current and past. As we discuss in Chapter 4, young people’s views are governed by their orientations to time, especially the future. In the short term, enjoying the youth phase of their lives, there were things they wanted to do such as travel, live a life without family obligations, pursue an education. In the long term, many foresaw settling down and starting a family. Postponing parenthood is a strategy which provides for both courses of action. But some young people could not envisage achieving the

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‘ideal’ conditions for parenthood and talked in terms of never wanting to have children.

Contemplating being a working parent Seeing themselves as working parents was also hypothetical; most young people saw it as being ‘far away in the future’. Young people had their own lives as children to draw upon at the receiving end of parenting. For some groups, there was much greater continuity between their parents’ lives and their own lives as parents, notably in the Scandinavian countries where there has been a long period of affluence together with considerable public support for employed parents and their children. By contrast, in the other three countries many young people lacked role models in their own parents and peer groups, and public support for employed parents and their children had been lacking. Moreover, in these countries there was far less continuity across generations in economic prosperity. Young people’s discourses concerning work–family practices are shaped in the context of dominant assumptions concerning the prevailing scripts for motherhood and fatherhood in each of the countries. As we discuss in other chapters, these scripts are shaped by assumptions and values concerning gender which in turn shape the formal conditions which societies provide (or not) for working parents (Chapter 1, Chapter 6 and Chapter 8). In their responses to the attitudinal question concerning family–work practices, we can see how far young people reflect or challenge general normative guidelines which prevail in their various countries, and the ways in which they negotiate general normative guidelines in relation to their own preferences and experiences. As we set out below, general normative discourses covered three main themes concerning the desirability of fulltime motherhood, shared parenting and the social construction of children’s needs. Full-time motherhood: the ‘be-all and end-all’ Normative discourses which prioritised full-time motherhood and sanctioned maternal absence were largely evident in the Irish focus-group discussions, whatever young people’s level of education or occupation. There were few such references made in other countries with the exception of some discussions among young working-class men (in UK and Norway) and among a group of male British-Asian students. By contrast, the Swedish and Norwegian groups rarely endorsed such normative positions; they made reference to the needs of children rather than essentialist notions of gender. For example, while some young Swedes (men and women) said they would like to stay at home with their children for several years, their accounts focused on what they considered ‘best for the child’. Children would benefit more, they said, from being cared for at home rather than in a daycare centre. The personal, secure and calm life in the home was contrasted with the lively and impersonal life of the institution. The home was in this context not especially equated with the mother’s care; fathers were also seen to be important in creating a ‘good’ home environment. However, as we discuss

Imagining parenthood and employment 129 in the following section, in terms of taking parental leave it was assumed by some young Swedes that mothers should take parental leave, especially when children were very young. The Irish focus-group discussions focused upon the presumed negative effects on children of not being brought up by their mothers rather than on the positive or negative aspects of other types of childcare. A significant exception was a group of low-skilled Irish women who were already mothers. This is unsurprising given the fact that, historically, Irish mothers have not been part of the formal labour market (although this is rapidly changing). While the increase in women’s employment is being recognised and accepted in Ireland, these residual attitudes remain strong. As one young man said: ‘Society would say “Look after the children”. And I think they would say “Where is the mother?” More so than “Where is the father?” So I think it is more difficult for women’ (18-year-old male Irish trainee). Mothers are considered to be the heart of the Irish family and home. It was a belief which coloured some young people’s memories of their own childhoods when, in most cases, their mothers would have been at home. A 27-year-old low-status female Irish hotel-worker commented: They (parents) were always at home when I was younger, coming in for your dinner. Coming home you wanted people there. Anyone I know says it is always better to be at home when the kids are going to school . . . it’s terrible walking into a house when there’s no one at home, especially when you are very young. A young woman in another focus group (female trainees, early 20s with higher secondary school qualifications) justified her own educational progress in terms of her mother being at home: ‘I don’t think I would have got on so well if my mother hadn’t been there.’ Some young Irish people reflected on what they wanted, and did not want, to replicate about their own childhoods. For example, a young woman in a group of female Irish trainees said that her own mother had worked when she was a child and described how this made her ‘very independent’ and also led to her taking a great deal of responsibility for her younger brothers and sisters – ‘being a substitute mother for them’. She felt that this had led to her ‘missing out on childhood’. In her current normative view, she considered that children were entitled to a childhood free of responsibility. A female Irish graduate in a higherstatus job in the hotel industry contrasted two current examples of motherhood in her own social network: a young mother who stayed at home and brought up ‘model children’ and her sister, a working mother, who let her children ‘run wild’. Her current normative position favoured the ‘at-home mother’. By contrast, a young man interpreted his own experience of having an at-home mother less in terms of what he considered the ‘proper thing to do’ and more in terms of what had occurred in practice: ‘My mother always worked. But she always worked at home – home baking or something. But she was always working. We never suffered. Granted she was always around. But she was always busy.’

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Many young Irish people stressed the symbolic importance of mothers as being fervently and consistently orientated towards the child – expressed in the language of ‘being there for children’. In this normative discourse they endorsed notions of modern child-rearing: the stress on the bonding of children with their parents, the importance of stimulating children (nurseries were seen as preferable in this regard to childminders and grandmothers). Some went so far as to endorse full-time parenting as opposed to full-time mothering. Some young Irish people were opposed to the idea of mothers ‘leaving’ their children at whatever age. ‘[Child] is my life now until he’s 18 and that’s that!’ (unemployed Irish woman with one child). Even despite the achievement of high levels of qualifications by many of the young Irish women (which are at a similar level to the UK, lower than Sweden and higher than Portugal, Eurostat, 1997, Tables E 5–6), they felt that they ought to ‘sacrifice’ their careers when they had children. Rather remarkably, some thought it more acceptable to work when children were younger rather than older. Great importance was put by some young people on the child’s awareness of their mother’s absence; young children were considered not to be so ‘aware’ and so it was considered a more preferable option for mothers to be around when their children were older. As a 25-yearold mother who had worked when her child was small but was now not working commented: ‘If they’re babies they don’t know the difference. It’s just like going to school for them. It’s just routine for them.’ Being around when children came home from school was seen as crucial. On the other hand, a young male trainee notes that fulfilling the ‘ideal condition’ did not necessarily lead to the child having the mother’s attention: ‘I grew up with seven of us basically looking after ourselves.’ Shared parenting: taking parental leave and going part-time In terms of public policy the most supportive conditions for being an employed parent of a young child exist in the Scandinavian countries, especially Sweden. Moreover, shared parenting is the professed ideal for Swedish men and women, in contrast to other countries where this normative discourse was largely absent (although some UK professional groups are keen on the idea). In many accounts of the young Swedish people, fathers were assumed to have the same potential as mothers for being ‘good parents’; fathers’ competence was thought to develop through practice. Therefore parental leave for fathers was considered to be normative; it gave them the opportunity to acquire parental competence and to get to know the child. To be cared for by the father as well as the mother was also assumed to be ‘good for the child’. A comment by a 23-year-old female Swedish university student illustrates this normative view: I believe that it is self-evident that one should share. I have said that I do not want children before both of us have the possibility to stay away from work. That is clear, because I also believe that it would be a pity if he does not get the chance to get close to the child. I mean, for the child as well – self-

Imagining parenthood and employment 131 evidently – the child needs its father as much as its mother. Not from the start perhaps, but later the father is equally important. So for both, not just for me, but for the child’s and the father’s sake I want the father to take leave and be at home with the child. Many young men expressed a personal preference for taking some part of parental leave, most of them for not more than a month, but a few wanted to take a sizeable amount of time. A 29-year-old male Swedish university student stressed that he gladly would stay at home for 4–5 years with his children: ‘I could stay at home with the children for a long time if I had the opportunity, I imagine that that would be great.’ Asked whether he would stay at home for the sake of his children or for himself, he responded in normative terms, both general and specific: ‘Mostly for the children’s sake but I also believe that it would be good for me.’ Few young Swedish men expected there to be any difficulties in the future in combining their work with having children. Young Swedish men assumed they would continue to work full-time when they became fathers, with only a brief period of parental leave. This suggests that they had not yet sought to negotiate the general norm in relation to their own particular situations. However, when pressed, the norm of shared parenting was typically negotiated in terms of which parent, in practice, earned the higher salary. In most cases, young people said that this was likely to be the man, reflecting the current gendered inequality in pay ( Jonsson, 1999, using data from OECD, 1996, Table 22.2). Despite the fact that the formal legislation in Sweden is couched in genderneutral terms and is explicitly intended to meet the needs of both parents, and also to meet the needs of children, the focus in the Swedish group discussions largely assumed that mothers would be the ones to take most advantage of these provisions. That Swedish mothers ought to take a substantial part of the parental leave and work part-time when returning to work after parental leave was thought of as ‘natural’ by many young people. The importance of breast-feeding during the child’s first year was part of this way of thinking. This suggests that the general norm of shared parenting is negotiated in practice in relation to genderspecific considerations. On the other hand, some young people contested such assumptions and preferred sharing parenthood more equitably. The normative ideal of a father and a mother sharing parental responsibilities was typically mentioned in relation to divorce but was rationalised not in terms of gender but by parental competence, principles of fairness, and children’s rights. Moreover, there were differences in how far young Swedish people negotiated norms about paid parental leave and working part-time, notably between the unemployed and temporary employed and those who had or expected to have permanent jobs. Swedish young women in permanent employment and female Swedish university students in technology and nursing said that they expected to meet the criteria for taking parental leave and would not therefore have any difficulty.4 On the other hand, as discussed in Chapter 5, young Swedish people in temporary employment said that taking parental leave and returning part-

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time could be difficult, while those who were already mothers felt forced to work full-time, reported difficulties in staying at home when their children were sick and had problems coping with children’s school holidays. These temporarily employed young people did not feel as entitled to parental rights as the permanently employed, since they ran the risk of not being offered a further employment contract. Similarly, some young Swedish women who were working as engineers were concerned about the effect on their careers of taking leave; this suggests that, within their male-dominated place of employment, the general norm of taking parental leave was not fully supported in practice by their managers. Even those in permanent jobs pointed to problems of having irregular hours when raising children. Some young Swedish women believed that having a career, in the sense of getting ‘better jobs’, would be difficult to combine with having children. For some young Swedes, therefore, the public-policy entitlements seemed more of a dream than a reality. The dream is to work six hours a day so that you would both have time for home and a job and to talk to equals, not just baby talk. That’s absolutely the dream. If I could afford it I would work half the days. I also want to have a job so that I don’t have to stay at home twiddling my thumbs. (30-year-old temporarily employed Swedish woman working as a care assistant for the elderly) Thus while there is widespread endorsement of the public normative discourse of shared parenting in Sweden, in practice young people negotiated the normative guidelines in different ways. These negotiations reflect continuing gender tensions, concerns about the needs of individual children and uncertainties in the Swedish economy and the labour market in recent years, especially during the time of the study. It is significant that the greatest gap between the normative ideal and practice was expressed by young Swedes who were in temporary employment. In contrast, the Irish and Portuguese focus groups concentrated much less on issues of shared parenting, although there was some discussion among the British groups. For example, a group of male British white-collar workers discussed their preference to work part-time or to job-share but in practice they did not expect their employers to be sympathetic: ‘I’m actually very tempted to leave work and actually bring up the kid, and at least work only part-time, if that was possible. And yet you always come up against employers in arranging that.’ In Britain, Ireland and Portugal, discussions concerning parental leave, never mind sharing parental leave, were largely absent, since there was no entitlement to paid parental leave in these countries. However, unlike Ireland and Portugal where parttime employment for mothers is uncommon, Britain has a long tradition of part-time female employment, notably after children start school. So it is not surprising that many young British people (mainly women but also some men) expressed a preference for part-time work when they had children. There was a lot of resistance, especially in the British groups, to the idea of reversing gender roles after children were born. Young people thought that such

Imagining parenthood and employment 133 a reversal would be difficult not only in practice but would contravene norms of gender identity. ‘It’s just, you know, I don’t know and then again, I suppose, with due respect, somebody who wants to stay at home, I’m not going to support him!’ (female UK university student). On the other hand, some of the young British men employed in higher-status jobs were more disposed to the idea if, in practice, their partners were to earn more than they did. Yet, the very few young British men in the study who had stayed at home were employed in lowerrather than higher-status jobs. Constructing children’s childcare needs Young people in all countries were vocal in expressing normative views concerning what children ‘need’ in terms of care. But cultural constructions of childhood vary considerably across and within countries. In Portugal, there was a general normative acceptance among young people of mothers’ employment. Discussion was rather of a practical nature concerning the management of the practicalities of children’s care. As more Portuguese grandmothers remain in paid employment (they are the traditional source of childcare), the costs of formal childcare are a major consideration. The Portuguese discussions made reference to the need for two salaries in the context of low wages, especially if the family was to have a second child, since it doubled the costs of childcare: ‘I have a daughter. Technically I can raise one child. I know I give her everything she needs. But with two kids, I don’t know, for example with two sets of daycare to pay for, I sincerely think that would be more complicated’ (female Portuguese administrative-worker). The discussions about relying upon grandmothers to care for children were also of a practical nature: on the one hand, the advantages of grandmothers’ close relationships with grandchildren were stressed and, on the other, the negative aspects – the burdens on grandmothers of looking after young children on a full-time basis and the fact that grandmothers were likely to have had relatively little formal education and so could not provide the cognitive stimulation which might be available in some daycare institutions. The possibility of institutional childcare was a lightning-conductor for debate in some of the focus groups, especially in Ireland and among working-class men in some countries. Those who expressed a normative preference for mothers as full-time carers, namely working-class young men in the UK and Ireland, also appeared to distrust formal childcare arrangements. In Britain, this distrust reflects its scarcity and also the ideological legacy which favours full-time motherhood in children’s early years: ‘You shouldn’t have kids unless you can give your time to them’ (female British secretarial student). Male British professionals noted their disapproval of ‘dumping children’ (their language) in institutions or with ‘strangers’. As all studies of British childcare show, not only are most children in Britain cared for by family, there is also a general distrust of those who are ‘not family’, which also extends to elder care (Brannen et al. forthcoming). However, in terms of preferences for different types of childcare when parents are both employed, there was a good deal of variation which depended upon the

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social-class affiliation of the young person, the perceived availability of childcare, the age and needs of the particular child and, most significantly, the ways in which young people had been cared for in their own childhood. It might be presumed that, given Sweden’s long history of public childcare and its generally high quality and prevalence that all young Swedish people would view daycare favourably.5 Some of the young Swedish people had been brought up in dual-earner families and others in families where the mother had stayed at home and the father had been the breadwinner. Accordingly, the focus-group’s discussions concentrated upon such divergencies. A:

B: C: E:

Those who are at home with their children are sort of wrong, now that all women have employment and say that they want to have employment and don’t want to stay at home. However, I would perhaps prefer to stay at home with my child anyway. Me, too. I don’t want them to be in daycare. I was in daycare – I started at a child-minder when I was three months old and then I started daycare when I was one year. I have not suffered from it, I was very good, it gave me a great deal. For I was such a mother’s girl. So I learned – I had no siblings. So for me it was very good to go to daycare, if I had stayed at home with my mother I would have become very spoilt, as I did not have any siblings – a spoilt, terrible child. (Swedish nursing students aged 17–20)

Some of the young Swedish people talked about the practicalities of daycare centres being ‘too noisy and tough’ for some children, contravening the normative ideal which is to provide a ‘good environment’ for children. Daycare was supposed to offer children opportunities to learn, to meet friends, to play, to socialise, to develop all kinds of abilities, and to take part in activities run by teachers. Other criticisms of daycare by young Swedish people focused upon public expenditure cuts which were reducing staff/child ratios in daycare centres at the time of the study. Those who were already parents and in insecure employment mentioned not being able to maintain continuity in their children’s daycare. Depending on the policies of the particular local authority, a place in a daycare centre depends upon the parent actually being in work. In some local communities children of unemployed parents lose their places in daycare centres. If a parent goes on parental leave with a second child, she or he is obliged to take the first child out of daycare.

Conclusion: integrated or conflicting worlds? This chapter has described how young people discuss the future life-course phases of becoming a parent and combining employment with parenthood. It has illuminated dominant normative discourses in the different countries concerning

Imagining parenthood and employment 135 what young people consider the ‘proper thing to do’. But it has also analysed how young people negotiate these dominant discourses through their personal accounts of their experiences and their specific accounts of practical considerations on the ground. In terms of combining employment and parenthood, different models underpin young people’s discourses. In some discussions it is assumed that it is possible to integrate employment and family life. For some this is a matter of personal ‘choice’ – a balance between the priorities of the job and family life: ‘We have to choose either a more demanding job and a less demanding family or a more demanding family and a less demanding job’ (male Portuguese industrial-worker). The integration may be at the level of the couple: ‘I’d like to do both (work and childcare), but I want my partner to do both as well . . . it’s got to be shared’ (female UK community-worker). For others, the issue concerned the practical constraints placed upon choice by lack of public support as in the Portuguese groups and among young Swedish people in temporary employment. For others, notably the young Irish people, employment and family life were seen as two worlds which were in conflict. The norms of working life were seen to be at odds with the norms of family life. In their discussions of these normative discourses, some young people grounded their accounts in their own experiences of the rhythms of everyday life. For example, one young Irish skilled worker who lived with his parents commented that he regularly did not see his own parents because of leaving home early or returning late from work. One informant reflected upon her own employment conditions in the hotel industry and suggested that the need to work shifts would disrupt the rhythms of both the child’s and mother’s life: ‘For the kid there would be no pattern or rhythm to their life. You’d be wrecked when you go home. I don’t think you’d be in any humour going home to kids. You’d want to be in great form going home.’ In some of the Irish normatively infused discussions, there were references to the way employment could disrupt normative reciprocities and complementarities between the kinship generations, in particular the requirement that the parent generation ought to ‘keep children close’. The investment in keeping children close was seen to pay off later in the life course when the parents in their old age needed the younger generation to look after them (Leonard, 1980). A group of 20-year-old Irish women trainees suggested that children are ‘on loan’ to their parents and that, if they fail to realise this, then they cannot be expected to be rewarded in later life with filial affection: The children are borrowed. They are on loan for a certain amount of time. If you don’t treat them right in that time they will go away and never come back. Whereas if you treat them properly they will always be around in some hard times maybe. (female Irish trainee, early 20s) Being stressed-out through employment was thought, moreover, to rub off on children and negatively affect their ‘character formation’.

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It is important that young people’s accounts – normative, personal, practical – are not seen as fixed or static. Historical shifts are taking place in gender-role practices and ideologies. Moreover, as we have argued earlier and in Chapter 2, young people’s discussions are constructed through social interaction and the generation of meaning within the research context of the focus group. Discussions need to be contextualised in the research encounter, notably the framing of the questions posed by the focus-group moderators, which in turn reflected dominant normative models concerning parenthood and employment in the different countries. Moreover, with the exception of the young people who were already parents, the consideration of parenthood and employment was a hypothetical issue. These discussions need to be interpreted as ‘public accounts’ – in the sense that young people made reference to social conventions, used phrases from public debates and the mass media and spoke about young people ‘in general’. Young people also grounded their responses in relation to their personal and practical situations, referring to their own experiences, the experiences of friends and workmates, their parents’ lives, their own specific wishes and beliefs. Those who were already parents responded quite differently from those who were not parents. The parents’ accounts are grounded in their own experience. These young people were especially concerned with the practicalities of being working parents – the advantages as well as the problems – and with discussing ways in which they might be better supported. Young adults’ thinking on parenthood and employment is not particularly ‘joined up’. While they are happy to talk about ideals of when to have a child, and what type of childcare is preferable, and whether being a working mother affects children, their views on all these issues do not necessarily cohere. For this reason, this chapter does not tell a coherent story, even for the young people within each country. Views vary and attitudes are often contradictory. This is not surprising when the boundaries between public-policy spheres and between the public and the private arenas are insulated, as they clearly are in some countries. Moreover, understandings of parenting and childhood vary and change slowly. In all five countries ideas concerning masculinity and femininity are in the process of change; from traditional gender ideologies to modern discourses of gender equality (Chapter 6). Change is bound to be uneven and is reflected in attitudes which are often piecemeal and ambivalent. The lack of seamlessness in young people’s accounts of work and family life reflects public policies which often are themselves contradictory. The political and social changes related to these domains have developed differently both in relation to time and content. Although the five countries share some similar trends, such as a growing instability in the labour market (except for Norway), the expansion of higher education and a high rate of female employment, there are considerable differences among them. As we discussed in Chapter 1, there are large cultural differences among the countries related to the domains of work and family. Moreover, there are contradictions within each country as change takes place in different social groups and localities, at different levels and across different domains.

Imagining parenthood and employment 137 In some national contexts, notably Portugal, the contradiction between material conditions whereby most mothers (and fathers) work (full-time) and where public support is low has led to young people confronting the contradictions explicitly. In Sweden, on the one hand, since the ideology of shared parenting and gender equality governs much of family policy and underpins public discourse, it could be argued that this makes it more difficult to confront any contradictions between public morality and private practice. In Ireland, the contradictions are not yet being confronted at all as young people keep the discourses of family life and gender equality in the labour market in quite different boxes. In the UK, there is a different emphasis which refers much more to the normative discourse of individual choice than to normative discourse is about the ‘proper thing to do’ for mothers and fathers as social categories.

Notes 1 In 1973 women’s labour-force participation rate was 61.9 per cent in Denmark, 62.6 per cent in Sweden and 50.6 in Norway. In 1986 the rate for Norway came closer to the rate of the other two countries: Norway’s rate was 71.0 per cent, Denmark’s 76.5 per cent and Sweden’s 78.3 per cent (OECD, 1988). 2 In Norway the introduction of the father’s quota has been rather successful (Leira, 1999). In Sweden, 77 per cent of the children born in 1995 had a father who took paternal leave: 50 per cent of those took at least 30 days; for children born in 1994 50 per cent had a father who took parental leave and out of those 30 per cent took 30 days (Riksförsäkringsverket, 2000). 3 Leave for Sweden in 2000 is: 12 months on 80 per cent of salary inclusive of the ‘father’ and the ‘mother months’ plus 90 days with a pay of 60 SKr per day. 4 In order to get income compensation with 80 per cent of the salary for the first 180 days of parental leave, the parent must have been employed for at least 240 days before the birth of the child; other parents get 60SKr per day. For the next 180 days the parent must have employment, but there is no rule that a parent must have been employed for a minimum number of days. 5 In 1970 only 3 per cent of Swedish pre-school children were in some kind of public childcare outside the family.

References Albrecht, J. W., Edin, P.-A., Sundström, M. and Vroman, S. B. (1997) ‘Kvinnors och mäns löner: förvärvsavbrottens betydelse’, in I. Persson and E. Wadesjö (eds) Kvinnors och mäns löner: varför så olika?, Stockholm: SOU, p. 136. Arnot, M., David, M. and Weiner, G. (2000) Closing the Gender Gap: Postwar Education and Social Change, Cambridge: Polity Press. Båsjö, K. and A. Svensson (1999) ‘Vinnare och förlorare i gymnasieskolan’, Välfärdsbulletinen, Nr 2. Brannen, J. (1999) ‘Caring for children’, in S. Walby (ed.) New Agendas for Women, London: Macmillan. Brannen, J. and Smithson, J. (1998) ‘Concilialcao entre o trabalho e os filhos: perspectivas de futuro para jovens de cinco paises’, Sociologia: Problemsas e Práticas, 27: 11–27.

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Brannen, J., Moss, P., Owen, C. and Wale, C. (1997) Mothers, Fathers and Employment: Parents and the Labour Market in Britain 1984–1994, London: Department for Education and Employment. Brannen, J., Gilbert, E., Mooney, A. and Moss, P. (forthcoming) ‘A study of work and care in four generation families’. Council for Europe (1998) Family Observer, Brussels: Employment and Social Affairs. Deven, F., Inglis, S., Moss, P. and Petrie, P. (1998) An Overview Study on the Reconciliation of Work and Family Life for Men and Women and the Quality of Care Services, London: Department for Education and Employment. Dores Guerreiro, M. das (1986) ‘Mulhers do fados, fados do mulher’, Lisbon, ISCTE. European Commission Network on Childcare (1996) A Review of Services for Young Children in the European Union 1990–95, Brussels: European Commission Directorate General V and Equal Opportunities Network. European Commission (1997) ‘Youth in the European Union: from education to working life’, Luxembourg: European Commission, Office for Official Publications of the European Communities, L–2985. Eurostat (1997) Education across the European Union: Statistics and Indicators, Luxembourg: Office for Official Publications of the European Communities. Finch, J. (1989) Family Obligations and Social Change, Cambridge: Polity Press. Fitzgerald, M. (2000) ‘Ireland before and after accession to the European Union’, in L. Appleton (ed.) ‘Spatio-temporal dimensions of economic and social change in Europe’, Cross-national research papers, sixth series, Socio-demographic Change: Social and Economic Policies in the European Union, Loughborough: The Cross-national Research Group, Loughborough University. Hantrais, L. (1999) ‘Interactions between socio-demographic trends, social and economic policies’, Cross-national research papers, fifth series, Socio-demographic Change: Social and Economic Policies in the European Union, Loughborough: The Cross-national Research Group, Loughborough University. Hernes, H. M. (1987) Welfare State and Woman Power, Oslo: Norwegian University Press. Hinnfors, J. (1992) Familjepolotik: Samhällsförändringar och Partistrategier 1960–1990, Stockholm: Almquist and Wiksell International. HMSO (2000) Work and Parents: Competitiveness and Choice, a Green Paper. Jonsson, I. (1999) ‘Changing patterns of education and training for women in the European Union’, in L. Hantrais (ed.) Changing Gender Relations and Policy, Cross-national research reports, fifth series, Socio-demographic Change: Social and Economic Policies in the European Union, Loughborough: The Cross-national Research Group, European Research Centre. Kugelberg, C. (1999) Perceiving Motherhood and Fatherhood: Swedish Working Parents with Young Children, Uppsala: Uppsala Universitet. Lewis, S., Smithson, J., Brannen, J., Dores Guerreiro, M. das, Kugelberg, C., Nilsen, A. and O’Connor, P. (1998) Futures on Hold: Young Europeans Talk about Work and Family, Manchester: IOD Research Group. Leira, A. (1999) ‘Cash for child care and daddy leave’, in P. Moss and F. Deven (eds) Parental Leave: Progress or Pitfall? Research and Policy Issues in Europe, NIDI CBGS Publications. Leonard, D. (1980) Sex and Generation: A Study of Courtship and Weddings, London: Tavistock. Lutz, W. (1999) ‘Will Europe be short of children?’, in Family Observer, Brussels: Employment and Social Affairs.

Imagining parenthood and employment 139 Machado, F. L. and Firmino da Costa, A. (2000) ‘An incomplete modernity’, in J. M. Leite Viegas and A. Firmino da Costa, Crossroads to Modernity: Contemporary Portuguese Society, Oeiras: Celta Editora. Ministerio do Trabalho e da Solidariedade (2000). Moss, P. and Deven, F. (1999) ‘Introduction’ in Parental Leave: Progress or Pitfall? Research and Policy Issues in Europe, NIDI CBGS Publications. Nordin, A. (1999), ‘Fler bör skaffa sig höskoleutbildning’, Välfärdsbulletinen, Nr 3. O’Connor, P. (2000) ‘Changing places: privilege and resistance in contemporary Ireland’, Sociological Research Online, 5(3). OECD (1988) Employment Outlook, September. OECD (1996) Education at a Glance: OECD Indicators, Paris: OECD. Riksförsäkringsverket (2000). Ruane, F. and Sutherland, J. (1999) Women in the Labour Force, Dublin: Employment Equality Agency. SCB (1995a) ‘Kvinnors och mans liv, parbildning och separationer’, Demografi Med Barn och Familj, 2(2). SCB (1995b) ‘Kvinnors och mans liv, barnafodande’, Demografi Med Barn och Familj, 2(3). SCB (1999) ‘Barn och deras familjer 1998’, Demografiska Rapporter, 3.

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Into parenthood Young people’s sense of entitlement to support for the reconciliation of employment and family life1 Suzan Lewis, Janet Smithson and Maria das Dores Guerreiro

In Chapter 5 we explored the expectations of employers among young people who were either anticipating or already in employment. Although some of the young people raised issues about children and parenting when discussing what they wanted from employment, others focused solely on the employer–employee relationship. Later in the focus-group discussions the young people were asked specifically to think about how they now, or might in the future, integrate employment and family life. This chapter focuses on what they said about their expectations of support – from the state, employers, and trade unions – for reconciling employment and family life, if and when they become parents. For most this was a hypothetical issue, full of uncertainties and ambivalence, as discussed in Chapter 7, although a few respondents already have children. In this chapter we consider first the psychological concept of the sense of entitlement, derived from social justice theory, which, it is argued, influences the outcomes and supports that people feel they can legitimately expect, whether they feel they can take advantage of any provisions available, and consequently how easy or difficult they think it will be to combine parenthood and employment. This provides the theoretical framework within which we analyse participants’ expectations of support. It is argued that a sense of entitlement to certain means of support is part of a process constructed on the basis of social comparisons within specific social contexts. The next section therefore considers once again the different welfare-state contexts, outlined briefly in Chapter 1, this time with an emphasis on the ‘gender contracts’ implicit in each national social policy context. Against this background we then discuss variations in expectations of, and the sense of entitlement to, institutional support during the phase when young women and men may have to meet family as well as employment demands. Encouraging governments and employers to provide support for the reconciliation of employment and family life for women and men has been a major thrust of the European Union’s drive for equal opportunities in the labour market and beyond (Holt and Thaulow, 1996; Moss, 1996; European Commission, 1999a; 1999b). This has generated a number of European Directives such as the Parental

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Leave Directive and Part-Time Work Directive which national governments are required to implement. National responses to these Directives vary as discussed in Chapter 1. Some governments have implemented these minimally, for example by providing entitlement to unpaid parental leave. Others, particularly in the Nordic countries, already had policies in place which went well beyond the minimum standards set by the European Directives: for example, paid parental leave and measures to encourage men to take them up (Deven and Moss, 2000). Employers, in turn, are required to comply with national legislation, but while some do so reluctantly and minimally others enhance statutory entitlements. Factors such as organisational size and sector and gender composition of the workforce are associated with different levels of employer provisions of work– family arrangements and support (Wood, 1999), while workplace culture is a crucial determinant of take-up of statutory or workplace provisions (Haas and Hwang, 1995; Lewis, 1997). Thus while different levels of state support for reconciliation of paid work and family are experienced across European states, employer support may also differ both between and within nation states. However, sense of entitlement does not necessarily reflect statutory or formal entitlements in a straightforward way.

Sense of entitlement Drawing on social justice theory a distinction can be made between supports or other outcomes which are expected and regarded as entitlements or rights, and those which are regarded as favours which have to be negotiated and/or reciprocated. Sense of entitlement is a concept used to denote a set of beliefs and feelings about rights and entitlements, or legitimate expectations, based on what is perceived to be fair and equitable (Major, 1993; Bylsma and Major, 1994; Lewis, 1997). In the social-psychological literature sense of entitlement tends to be portrayed as an individual set of expectations, developed on the basis of social processes within a specific social context, but given its proposed social basis it can also be interpreted as a collective ‘sense’ of what is normative, legitimate and fair. Sense of entitlement is different from and should not be confused with actual legal or other objective entitlements (Lewis and Lewis, 1997). It is possible to have an objective entitlement (for example to parental leave) and not feel entitled to take it up, and it is possible to feel entitled to an outcome (for example to feel that it is legitimate to expect to be able to take time off work to care for a sick child) even if there is no formal entitlement to it. A limited subjective sense of entitlement to be able to work in ways which are compatible with family demands can create low expectations of employer, state or other support, too much gratitude for any support available and a reluctance to demand further changes (Lewis, 1996; Lewis and Lewis, 1997). Research on sense of entitlement has consistently shown that men and women feel entitled to different outcomes in employment where, for example, women may feel entitled to lower rates of pay or other rewards (Bylsma and Major, 1994; Desmarais and Curtis, 1997) and in family life, where women often express

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satisfaction with an unequal division of labour (Major, 1993; Burgoyne and Lewis, 1994; Reichle, 1996). Explanations of this disparity are usually framed in terms of social processes (e.g. Major, 1993). However, much of the research in this area has been experimental and laboratory-based (e.g. Bylsma and Major, 1994) or carried out in naturalistic but narrowly defined contexts (e.g. Burgoyne and Lewis, 1994) and has not directly explored the impact of broader social context on these processes. Our cross-national study provides opportunities to explore the ways in which young people discuss beliefs about entitlement to support for specific gender-related employment and family outcomes in the context of different national social policy contexts and the values which these reflect. Social comparison processes are theorised as key determinants of sense of entitlement (Lerner, 1987). In this view it is argued that sense of entitlement is determined by these processes (Lerner, 1987), influenced by social context and ideology (Lewis, 1996) and constructed on the basis of social, normative and feasibility comparisons (Major, 1987, 1993; Lewis and Lewis, 1997). Individual judgements about what is fair or equitable are made on the basis of normative comparisons with others who are assumed to be similar to oneself (Major, 1993; Bylsma and Major, 1994). For example, women’s reporting of relative satisfaction with an unequal division of family labour has been explained by their tendency to compare themselves with other women, rather than with their male partners (Major, 1993). Gender appears to be particularly significant in influencing what is perceived as normative, appropriate and feasible. If motherhood is constructed as women’s primary role then employment is often constructed as something extra, which women take on for their own satisfaction and independence, even if their income is essential for the family (Lewis et al., 2001). In this context fathers’ participation in family care is constructed as help rather than a shared responsibility (Hochschild, 1997). Hence women with traditional gender expectations will feel less entitled to support to enable them to undertake paid work when they have family responsibilities and men less entitled to employer support for involvement in caring. Gender roles thus prescribe different entitlements for women and men in the home and in employment. As European countries differ in the extent to which an ideal of gender equality is institutionalised in welfare states we argue that this is likely to be reflected in an individual sense of entitlement to supports and outcomes for the reconciliation of work and family life. Drawing on social-comparison theory we pay particular attention to the processes by which national context can impact upon what is constructed as fair, normative and feasible, and examine whether this is changing as welfare states themselves are challenged and change.

Welfare-state regimes Sense of entitlement to support entails that someone else has an obligation to provide. There are national differences in the provision of institutional benefits and supports for workers and family members, related to the variety of welfare-

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state models in different European regions. The welfare-state systems of European countries have been related to assumptions about gender role (Meehan and Sevenhuijsen, 1991; Pfau-Effinger, 1994). For example different systems endorse to a greater or lesser extent the male-breadwinner model through taxation and social welfare policy (Lewis, 1993; Walby, 1994). Duncan (1996) argues that work–family policies and practices are based on the assumption of gender contracts – implicit social contracts between women and men about their roles, obligations and entitlements (Hirdman, 1988). Den Dulk et al. similarly assert that ‘typologies of welfare states are based . . . on differences in the division of tasks between women and men, ranging from more traditional to less traditional and egalitarian relations’ (den Dulk et al., 1999: 2). For example, in countries with a ‘traditional’ gender contract (such as Ireland) affordable and available childcare or other care is not viewed as a necessity as it is widely assumed that mothers of young children do not undertake paid work, while in countries with an ‘equality’ contract (such as Sweden) it is assumed that both women and men will be carers and paid workers, and the welfare and work systems are structured accordingly (Nasman, 1999). In the two Scandinavian countries in this study, Norway and Sweden, characterised as having a ‘social democratic’ welfare-state model (Esping-Anderson, 1990), the reconciliation of work and family is regarded as a collective responsibility (Siim, 1991), and state support is expected (Kugelberg, 1999). There are strict legal regulations on working hours and overtime, and relatively high levels of publicly funded childcare and paid parental leave. In Sweden, in particular, affordable good-quality childcare has been a high priority. There are distinctions among the various Scandinavian welfare states (Pfau-Effinger, 1994; Duncan, 1996), but nevertheless Norway and Sweden can both be said to have an ‘equality’ contract underpinning their welfare-state systems (Lewis, 1992), although the nature of this equality contract and the provisions that follow have been challenged to some extent in recent years by economic and ideological factors, as discussed in Chapter 7. Although there are many and substantial differences between the UK and Portugal, they would both be characterised as being in a ‘transitional’ state between traditional and equality gender contracts. The UK is characterised by a ‘liberal’ welfare-state model (Esping-Anderson, 1990; Forbes, 1991), and what Duncan (1996) terms a ‘transitional’ gender contract, that is, making the transition from a traditional contract towards an equality contract. The integration of employment and family life has traditionally been regarded as an individual or corporate issue (Forbes, 1991) and British social policy reflects the notion of individual rather than public responsibility for families (Brannen et al., 1997). Although Britain is moving rapidly away from a male-breadwinner model, as discussed in Chapter 7, there remains more emphasis on promoting voluntary employer policies and supports for reconciling employment and family life than on state intervention. Portugal has a very limited welfare state, and traditionally there has been a strong reliance on the extended family for support with childrearing,

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unemployment and old age (Kofman and Sales, 1996). There is a low rate of official unemployment in Portugal but a highly precarious labour market and high levels of non-permanent work, without access to social benefits. Salary levels in Portugal are among the lowest in Europe (Eurostat, 1997) and as discussed in earlier chapters, most men and women work full time, necessitating a rapid change from a traditional division of breadwinner/carer roles towards a more ‘modern’ society (Brannen and Smithson, 1998). So Portugal too would be regarded as transitional in Duncan’s typology. Ireland is described as having a ‘conservative’ welfare-state model (EspingAnderson, 1990), also termed a ‘strong male-breadwinner’ model (Lewis, 1992), based on a ‘traditional’ gender contract (Duncan, 1996). The care of dependants is presumed to be a matter for the family, and mainly for women within those families (O’Connor, 1998, see Chapter 7). There is correspondingly low state provision, especially for childcare. Irish women, although highly educated, have the lowest labour-force participation in Europe, although this is rising rapidly. Notwithstanding this trend and the tremendous economic changes, Ireland remains a highly patriarchal society and the birthrate, though falling, remains the highest in Europe. In so far as welfare-state models, the gender contracts embedded within them, and the associated difference in statutory entitlements vary across the five countries, we might expect differences in sense of entitlement to support for reconciling employment and family life. That is, young women and men brought up in countries characterised by an equality gender contract could be expected to have a stronger sense of entitlement to state support for reconciling work and family needs, with such support deemed normative and feasible. If so, this may also be reflected in feelings of entitlement to corresponding support from employers and from trade unions. Alternatively, high expectations of state support may be associated with a weaker sense of entitlement to non-statutory support. Similarly, young women and men brought up in transitional or conservative welfare states could be expected to have a lower sense of entitlement to support for reconciling work and family needs in gender-equitable ways, and a stronger sense of individual or family responsibility for these needs and may therefore feel more ambivalent about expecting employer or trade union support. On the other hand, welfare states are not static, but are constantly being restructured, mainly in the direction of reduced state protection and increased individual risk (Quilgars and Abbott, 2000) which could be reflected in greater convergence in sense of entitlement to work–family support across the five countries. In the focus groups and interviews, participants were asked about what supports they would expect or hope for if and when they had children. They were specifically asked what employers could do to help, and whether they would be expected to do so, what the government could or should do and what the role of the trade unions might be for supporting the reconciliation of employment and family life.

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Expectations of state support for reconciling work and family Sense of entitlement to state support for reconciling work and family, for example, childcare, parental leave and the statutory right to work hours that are compatible with family life varied across and within the five countries, as expected. Cross-national differences in expectations of support and constructions of self-reliance The focus-group discussions and individual accounts of the young adults in countries with social policies underpinned by an ‘equality’ gender contract, that is, Sweden and Norway, suggested the strongest sense of entitlement to state support for reconciling work and family commitments in gender equitable ways, while the discourse of those experiencing policies influenced by a ‘traditional’ gender contract indicated the lowest sense of entitlement to this support. This can be illustrated in relation to childcare. In Sweden and Norway a sense of entitlement to state support for childcare was regarded as compatible with, and necessary for, self-reliance and also as essential for gender equality. State support for childcare was expected and taken for granted in the two Scandinavian countries where there was a sense that the municipality had obligations in this respect. The municipality should (be responsible for running nurseries), every municipality should be responsible for that . . . there is lots of private daycare too, but I don’t really think individuals should be responsible for these things . . . you must pay to have a kid in the nursery . . . but the public authorities should be responsible for building and running them. (Norwegian woman in vocational training) In Sweden and Norway, not only childcare provisions but also family policies on parental leave and leave to look after sick children, which are comparatively generous, were taken for granted and considered fair. If anything there was an expectation that parental-leave rights should be extended and childcare provisions enhanced. There had been recent cuts in provisions in Sweden and the Swedish groups were concerned about this. The sense of entitlement to such supports empowered many of the young Scandinavians, such as the Norwegian shipyard-workers quoted below, to feel that they would have a range of choices about how they would reconcile work and family. ‘You have paternal leave and maternal leave, and . . . so there is really no . . . they have made it easy for people to work and have children’ (male Norwegian shipyard-worker). Whatever recent changes may be taking place in welfare states and policy debates, the well established policies and provisions in Sweden and Norway

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appear to provide the foundation for a relatively strong sense of entitlement to support for integrating family and employment among the young adults in this study. Notions of self-reliance reduced expectations of non-familial support for childcare in the other countries. The British groups were the most likely to stress individual responsibilities in discussions about childcare. There was a strong emphasis on personal choice accompanied in many cases by a view of parenting as a lifestyle choice which reduced their sense of entitlement to expect support from anyone beyond the family. ‘To me, having children is a choice and if you take that choice you’ve got to take the responsibilities that is’ (female UK community-worker). In this context their discussions suggested that it was not considered fair or legitimate that the state should provide childcare. However, despite a low sense of entitlement to this type of support some considered that there was a limited role for state support in terms of providing a safety net for families or monitoring quality of childcare services. It is up to the parents to look after the children. Definitely. It’s got nothing to do with the government if you decide to go off and have a baby. But, there should be something there. Say you are working and you’ve had a baby and then you lose your job, there should be something there for that person to fall back on. (female UK care-worker) An awareness of the possible negative consequences of lack of support for childcare in extreme circumstances thus enabled some of the young British adults to conceive of situations where state support in relation to childcare would be legitimate, but it was not perceived as normative or feasible for the state to provide support for those who were regarded as able to be self-reliant. For most of the Irish participants external support of any kind for family responsibilities was seen as a last resort, not as something to be chosen. The ideal of the mother at home with young children was so strong that there was no sense of entitlement for any form of support for them to work outside the home. On the contrary, a popular, although contested, idea in Ireland was to pay women to stay at home to look after their family. I think there is (a need for the state to support mothers at home) because children need to be brought up properly. And if they are just going to be moved from one childminder to another then they will get confused. And they won’t know what a proper family life is. (female Irish postgraduate trainee) Despite the different discourses of self-reliance and the different implications for sense of entitlement to state support for reconciling family and employment, there were also variations in the way this was framed within the countries.

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Within-country differences: the role of experienced needs and social comparisons Among the Irish and British women, especially mothers, were more likely to support an ideal of, if not a sense of entitlement to, some state help for childcare to enable them to sustain employment, perhaps because they were experiencing a current rather than anticipated need. The different responses of those with and without children illustrates a problem of methodology: perceived needs, if not expectations of support are liable to change when hypothetical situations become reality. Mothers in Britain and Ireland tended to perceive the current situation as inequitable: a perception grounded in their own experiences: I think childminders don’t get paid a lot for what they do, but we can’t afford to pay them what they are really worth, I think the government should support them, you know they get what about under two pounds an hour for minding a child. (unemployed UK woman with two children) Getting back to the whole thing of should the government subsidise you if you’re working I think totally they should. If I was allowed to keep my babysitting allowance I’d work I’d never give up work. (unemployed Irish woman with one child) Nevertheless the type and level of support they envisaged from the state was minimal and a sense of entitlement to be able to expect this support was low. Awareness of state policies in other countries, however, appeared to expand notions of what was feasible and of what might therefore be expected. For some groups the wider European context was providing broader social comparisons for reconciling work and family for some young Europeans, notably in the transitional and traditional countries. If you look at countries like France they will have excellent crèche facilities provided by the state whereas in Ireland they don’t. (male Irish retail sales trainee) Britain’s the only country in Europe now without proper paternity leave. (female UK white-collar worker) The ability to make these social comparisons was associated with a greater sense of entitlement to such support. However, most participants, and particularly the less-educated men, were unaware of the policies and practices elsewhere in Europe (and often in their own country) and therefore had not made these comparisons. Thus sense of entitlement to state support for reconciling work and family appears to be related to a large extent to national social policy, but parental

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status and associated need for support could increase feelings of unfairness when state support is low. However, the likelihood of feeling entitled to expect more statutory support than is actually available was greatest among those who were aware of state policies somewhere else, at the EU level, and therefore were able to develop a sense of entitlement based on broader social comparisons.

Sense of entitlement to support from employers Four themes emerged in discussions about entitlement to expect work–family support from employers: sense of entitlement to employer support because it is socially or morally right (the social case); sense of entitlement to employer support only if it is perceived to be in the employer’s economic interests (the economic case); a sense of injustice that employers are undermining statutory entitlements by, for example, the use of non-permanent employment contracts, and the gendered sense of entitlements. Expectations of employers were generally highest among participants in countries with more regulation, but this was moderated by gender, the type of policy under consideration (childcare support, flexible working arrangements, family leaves), and by participants’ perceptions of an economic case for work–family support. The social case: entitlement to employer support because it is socially or morally right This view was most prevalent among Swedish and Norwegian participants in discussions about flexible working arrangements. With welfare states based on equality contracts, and well-established provisions for statutory parental-leave provisions, including the right to paid ‘family emergency’ leave, both young men and women felt that it was right for employers to support work–family integration. Although there were some gender differences in sense of entitlement to longer periods of parental leave, there was a strong sense of entitlement among Scandinavian men as well as women to be able to take emergency family leave. Perhaps because these young people saw that it was feasible for employers to be sufficiently flexible to manage these short-term and often unplanned leaves, and that it was normative for parents to be able to make use of them, they had their stronger expectations than their counterparts in other countries that employers would be flexible often underpinned by statutory entitlements. A:

It (combining work and a family) . . . well it is up to yourself too, but employers should do something as well . . . make it easier for people. Focus-group moderator: What could employers do then? A: Well, there are some here who have special agreements. They can come in a little later, and they can work shifts if they want to and things like that. That’s good I think if they can be more flexible. (male Norwegian shipyard-worker)

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Although the Swedish and Norwegian participants displayed the strongest sense of entitlement to employer flexibility, legitimated by state support for genderequitable roles in both spheres, this did not extend to a social case for employer support for childcare. Although some employers in the Nordic countries do provide support for childcare, including some workplace nurseries in Norway (Brewster and Hegewisch, 1994), the strong sense of entitlement to state support for childcare and actual state provision appeared to negate rather than reinforce any expectations from employers in this respect. However, neither did the participants in Ireland, Portugal and the UK, with, arguably, greater need due to the paucity of state-provided childcare, expect or feel entitled to employer provision or assistance with childcare as a social right. I don’t think it’s anything to do with the company you work with. It’s your own business to get your kids sorted. They don’t want to hear that you got up in the morning and the child is sick and you had to ring in sick. They don’t want to hear that. (female Irish white-collar worker) The ‘economic case’: sense of entitlement to employer support only if it was perceived to be in the employer’s economic interests This theme emerged among the Portuguese, Irish and particularly the British participants in discussions about childcare and flexible working arrangements. Although there was no sense of entitlement for the employer to provide childcare as a social right there was a belief among some men and women in countries with low levels of state support for work and family that it was in the economic interests of employers, especially large organisations, to provide childcare. something like an NHS [National Health Service] employer has a massive workforce of mainly young people . . . would actually benefit from having a crèche that employees had to pay for, because they’re gonna have people who don’t have to rush away and don’t give up their jobs and um they’ll also be making money. (female UK white-collar worker) When the firms have daycare centres I think that it’s an incentive for people to want to work there. They know that their child is there and they can even spend their lunch time with the child. (female Portuguese white-collar worker) Those who subscribed to this argument felt more entitled to expect employerprovided childcare than others, especially as this was available to the workforce more generally, whereas other policies are more individualised in delivery. It was

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regarded as feasible and not regarded as a favour. If employers could be seen to benefit from providing childcare it became more legitimate to expect them to do so. Others who perceived childcare as a ‘cost’ to firms had little sense of entitlement to such support. I think daycare centres are a good idea although few companies would agree with it because having a daycare centre would mean higher costs, more staff, and nowadays it’s exactly the opposite of what they are looking for. (male Portuguese management administration student) Similar cost-benefit attributions were applied in discussions of working-time flexibility, non-standard work and parental leaves, which were less likely to be expected if they were viewed as costs rather than benefits to the employer. But whether (flexibility is available) because we work in the public sector, and we’ve got the resources to back it up . . . if we worked in private industry we wouldn’t be able to afford to do that. (male UK clerical-worker) Employers were often expected to operate flexible working practices up to a point, but the young men and women in these countries did not expect to be permitted to work flexible hours unless they could argue that it was practical. There was much less emphasis on economic factors in Sweden and Norway but even here some participants recognised that work–family arrangements such as parental leave might be more difficult for employers in some circumstances. ‘A small company might need more money and if you are away for a week it might be difficult’ (Swedish man in permanent employment). However, the Nordic participants were more likely to suggest that government may be able to help employers in some ways than to deny their own entitlement to support. In Sweden and Norway, where sense of entitlement stemmed from socialpolicy provision and a social/moral discourse, sense of entitlement to support did not appear to vary by occupational grouping. Elsewhere, however, where legitimisation depended on economic arguments, the lower-skilled workers seemed to have an especially low sense of entitlement. In the UK, for example, there was a prevalent view that ‘family friendly’ policies were aimed only at professional workers, and a group of Irish women also felt that managers were more likely to be able to make the business case for support. S:

You do the work they tell you or they get someone else. They’re not bothered about your real life, they just want their profits. That’s all they want nowadays their profits. The world is now a profit margin. Focus-group moderator: All these things like employers who advertise family friendly policies, do you think they’re just saying it?

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S:

You’re probably better off dead. They’re looking for highly skilled people, that’s another kettle of fish. Talk about average workers, they’re not bothered. (unemployed UK man)

A:

You don’t want them to feel that your family is encroaching on your work. It depends on how important you are to your employer. If you are in middle management and you have a good job then you can call the shots so to speak, depending on your position there you could say ‘personally we can do a better job for you, so it is in your interest to provide it for me’. (female Irish business trainees)

B:

Thus while legitimisation for support for reconciling employment and family life appeared to come from the state in contexts where the welfare state is based on ‘equality gender contracts’, elsewhere it often came from perceived economic consequences. The British participants were the most likely to give such justifications. This may be because the ‘business case’ for gender equality and work–family support had been widely promulgated in the UK by government (e.g. Bevan et al., 1997; DfEE, 2000). In Portugal and Ireland, where there had been less public discourse on the business case, work–family supports were more likely to be discussed as costs to employers, and favours rather than entitlements. Sense of injustice that employers are undermining statutory entitlements: the role of non-permanent work Despite an acceptance by those in the more traditional or transitional welfare states that an economic rationale would be necessary to justify employers offering support beyond statutory entitlements, there were limitations to this prioritisation of employer needs. A theme emerged in all the countries: a focus on short-term profits and denial of employees’ family needs was unjust when employers were undermining statutory entitlements such as maternity, parental and family leave. Consistent with previous research (Andersson, 1996), this sense of injustice was reflected in cynicism about employers’ motivation, particularly in Ireland and Portugal, and in low expectations of employer support. I think that employers in our country are extremely closed minded: ‘I am investing today because I want profit tomorrow’. (female Portuguese white-collar worker) [ If they had a choice, employers] wouldn’t even bother with people who have children, they just want single people. (female Irish trainee)

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In particular, the increase in contractual flexibility and non-permanent work among this age group in all the countries except Norway (European Commission, 1997) was interpreted as a means of avoiding the costs associated with various entitlements, which created resentment. More and more jobs are going down to short-term contracts, and the employers attempt to get round the cost, like maternity cost and redundancy payments and the rest of it. And I think that’s really destructive. (female UK white-collar worker) As discussed in Chapter 5, feelings of subjective job insecurity among those who were already in employment were widespread, including among those in socalled permanent jobs (Smithson and Lewis, 2000). However, those in fixed-term or precarious jobs were the most acutely aware of the undermining of statutory entitlements. Particularly in Sweden, where insecure work was very prevalent at the time (see Chapter 5), there was a widespread view that insecurity undermined the impact of statutory regulations. For example, Swedish precariously employed women explained that in temporary jobs it was vital to be reliable, for example, not taking leave to care for sick children. The women talked about how difficult it was for them to sustain employment after having a baby unless they had a permanent job (see also Chapter 7). But a permanent job – that’s something to go back to when you have stayed at home (after maternity leave). Yes you feel that way. If you have a child you won’t have a job to return to, I don’t think so. (Swedish women, temporarily employed) Because they compared themselves with those in permanent jobs and with previous generations who had easy access to family leaves these young women regarded their own situation as unjust. Their sense of entitlement to support was violated. Similarly, although there were fewer rights in the UK, the British women had a strong sense of entitlement to maternity leave which, although comparatively limited in terms of pay, is statutorily provided (for 28 weeks at the time of the study). Despite the identification with the business case in respect of other provisions, women felt that employers were being unfair to use temporary contracts to avoid providing maternity benefits (see also Chapter 5). ’Cos I’m on a fixed-term contract it means my maternity rights are kind of kaput basically. Even though I’ve been here for over five years in the same job . . . it means that my maternity rights are virtually non-existent. And I don’t think that’s right, I think I should have the opportunity to, you know have the full benefits that somebody would have if they had a permanent post to start off with. (female UK professional contract-worker)

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The situation was more complex in Portugal where economic conditions often prevented mothers from taking more than a minimal maternity leave and there was a perception that parental leaves and taking leave to look after sick children could actually damage all women’s employment prospects. In this situation even sense of entitlement to basic legal rights was minimal because taking leaves and sustaining employment was not regarded as feasible. Gendered sense of entitlement Consistent with other research (Aryee and Luk, 1997; Hochschild, 1997; Lewis 1997; Aryee et al., 1998) we found that sense of entitlement to employer support was highly gendered, although this appears to be changing somewhat in the Scandinavian countries. Men in all the countries in this study had a much lower sense of entitlement than women to take up parental leave (a statutory paid provision in Sweden and Norway, a statutory unpaid provision in Portugal, and no statutory provision in Britain or Ireland at the time of the study). Only in Sweden and Norway, where one month of parental leave was reserved exclusively for fathers, was parental leave for men considered a realistic possibility. Elsewhere many men said they hoped to be able to spend time with children but doubted that it would be possible. It would place my career at risk. But it would be ideal, at least personally, I would like to dedicate some of that time to the child. (male Portuguese white-collar worker) Some of the Swedish groups, in contrast, talked about discrimination against parents replacing discrimination against women as more men took up parental leave entitlements. Now there has been so much talk about paternal leave that they have started to ask men as well. Before only women were penalised for having children. Fathers were people who went out and in through doors. They shouldn’t stay at home with sick children – now fathers are equally often at home. (unemployed Swedish woman) Discussions about part-time work, which was widely available in Sweden, Norway and the UK (mainly to women) but seldom available in Ireland and Portugal, were also highly gendered. Where part-time work was widely available most of the women said they would prefer to work part time if they had children. Although many said they would also like their partners to be able to work part time, and many of the men, especially the more educated, also hoped to be able to do this, few women or men thought it would be feasible for men to work part time.

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A:

Many women I work with are offered part-time work three days a week and it works very well. I think we’re still a long way from offering that to men. Focus-group moderator: What, the same offer’s not made to men? A: Well, there’s two things, the men aren’t, probably asking . . . and management has a long way to go before they recognise that that’s important. (male UK white-collar workers) Most men compared themselves with other men rather than with women and felt little sense of entitlement to reduce working time for family reasons in all five countries. In Portugal part-time work was not regarded as feasible because two full-time incomes were essential in the context of low wages, while in Ireland some reduction in working hours was seen as desirable for women, but only feasible if linked to an economic case. Expectations and sense of entitlement to support from trade unions Within the European Union, discussions on the reconciliation of employment and family life involve the social partners: governments, employers and employee representatives. However, there has been a decline in union membership, collective bargaining power and in national credibility of trade unions in almost all EU states (with the exceptions of the Netherlands and Spain) which has been attributed, at least partly, to the spread of flexible working practices (Croucher and Brewster, 1998). Do the young people in our study feel entitled to support from the trade unions for integrating family and employment in this context? Not apparently in most cases. We found little enthusiasm for (collective) solutions provided by trade unions. Expectations and feelings of entitlement to support from trade unions were low in all the countries. Indeed, some of the young women and men knew little about unions and others were disaffected with them. In Britain the most disadvantaged of the participants knew least about trade unions, but tended to be most dismissive of them. A: B: A: B: D: A:

B:

What’s a trade union? I don’t know anything about them really [UK unemployed women]. They just don’t have the strength. They go on strike. They’re just a waste of time [female UK secretarial students]. The trouble was that before that they played too much of a part. They should have played just enough, they overplayed it. Right, there’s no toilet paper, strike! [Laughter] They just argue about everything don’t they? (UK clerical-workers in the public sector)

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Attitudes were more positive among the white-collar than blue-collar British men and women but they were aware that flexible employment contracts make it risky to take up rights won by trade unions or engage in typical trade union activity: This is the trouble with things like rights, because you can take, you can adhere to all the rights but you feel as though, any time you do something like this, someone puts a little mark next to your name to be remembered the next time, so that when it comes to looking at contracts, they look at each person who went on strike for that day, each member who is demanding paternity benefit, he was taking all the rights that they could have, bloody hell, I’m not having him here. (male UK white-collar worker) Even in Sweden, where the unions have traditionally been strong, the focusgroup discussions indicated disillusionment among the young people because of the changed economic situation and growth of unemployment and temporary contracts. It’s an employers’ market now because of the high unemployment. When I started work as an electrician . . . the unions were strong, they decided the conditions . . . (now) they seem to do nothing. Many leave the unions today to save a hundred and fifty crown. (unemployed Swedish man) Many participants talked about the traditional role of the unions in negotiating pay increases, but even those who were interested or involved in unions saw little role for them in relation to family and work issues, as illustrated in an individual interview with a British nurse who had previously been a shop steward: Interviewer: How about trade unions? Do you think there is anything trade unions can be doing to help parents with young children? Nurse: I don’t know really, nothing springs to mind. There is some discussion in the Irish focus groups about what unions could do, such as campaigning for flexitime, but broader social ideology, particularly in relation to gender, underlines the mixed views about whether trade unions would actually take up work and family issues. A: B:

It can be done through the unions and they will voice it on your behalf. Which trade unions are going to bother with that? Would they see it as a private family matter? (female Irish trainees)

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Only in Norway did any of the participants talk positively about the role of trade unions in supporting work and family. Focus-group moderator: What can unions do then? A: They could make demands like they usually do. B: In this place they have been important for making parental leave longer. A: Someone got two years. The union saw to that. Focus-group moderator: Are there equal terms for male and female employees in relation to parental leave and things like that? B: I didn’t know but I think so. A: Those who have children here . . . there is no problem for them to . . . like if they have a sick child at home there is no problem taking time off for that. (male Norwegian shipyard-workers)

Discussion and conclusions We suggest here that sense of entitlement to support for reconciling work and family varies among the participants in the different national contexts, reflecting the fundamental gender contracts underpinning welfare states and the genderrelated values on which they are based. Overall, participants in Sweden and Norway, where welfare states are based on an equality contract, appeared to have a higher sense of entitlement to support from the state and for employer flexibility in terms of working hours, though they do not expect employers to provide childcare which is regarded as a state responsibility. In contrast, most participants in Ireland, Portugal and the UK had very limited sense of entitlement to support from either the state or employers, emphasising instead self- or family reliance. Sense of entitlement to support from the state and employers was particularly low among the Irish groups, where public policy reflected the most traditional values in relation to work and family and especially motherhood. Consistent with previous research (e.g. Reichle, 1996; Hochschild, 1997), sense of entitlement to work and family support remained gendered among these young adults, but less so in Sweden and Norway where there is strong state support for men as well as women to combine work and family roles. Sense of entitlement to support from trade unions appeared to be low across all the groups, with the exception of some of the Norwegians, reflecting the declining role of the unions and their failure to engage in the work–family area. So, it appears that social policy context and the values embedded therein are reflected, along with other factors in young people’s beliefs about what support it seems legitimate to expect from the social partners (the state, employers and trade unions), if they combine employment with family responsibilities. Nevertheless, within these national contexts, two salient factors emerged which impact on sense of entitlement; the young people’s ability to make comparisons with social policy in other European countries, and their perception of economic benefits of workplace work–family arrangements to employers. Both can be

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explained by perceptions of feasibility of work–family supports, a crucial aspect of the social comparison process (Lerner, 1987). Awareness of supportive social policies in other countries permits social comparisons which demonstrate the feasibility of such provisions and also highlights the fact that such policies are normative in some contexts. Perception of economic benefits to employers, or the ‘business case’ for ‘family friendly’ workplace policies (Galinsky and Johnson, 1998) also enhances perceptions of feasibility and enables participants to construe employer supports as entitlements rather than favours. The impact of the ‘business case’ on sense of entitlement in some contexts suggests that many of these young adults took the employer’s perspective, even to the extent of privileging employers’ assumed needs over their own. However, the sense of injustice expressed by women in Sweden and the UK when they felt that their maternity leave entitlements had been undermined by the introduction of temporary employment contracts, suggests that, when entitlement to statutory support is well established, employer interests become less salient in the construction of sense of entitlement. Thus economic and labour market factors interact with social policy to influence the sense of entitlement to work–family support. Some caution must be exercised in interpreting the findings reported here as evidence of young people’s views when and if they become parents. The research revealed the ways in which these young adults talked about work and family issues in the future and their perceived entitlements to support from their own present standpoints. This and other pertinent methodological concerns are considered in Chapters 2 and 7. Young people’s views may change as their family situations change. There are likely to be some discrepancies between what people say they feel entitled to expect in the present when these are hypothetical issues, and what they will actually put up with in practice (Chapter 7, Smithson, 1999). Earlier studies have demonstrated that the area of paid work and family expectations is often fraught with inconsistencies (Condor, 1986; Wetherell et al., 1987). Longitudinal research, following young workers through the transition to parenthood and beyond in different national contexts would help to elucidate the impact of social policy on sense of entitlement to work–family support and actual strategies for integrating work and family. Notwithstanding these reservations, the findings relating to sense of entitlement have a number of potential implications for both public policy and employer policy and practice on work–family issues. European Union policy aims to empower those with family responsibilities and extend the choice of work– family strategies. There is some evidence from this study that national social policies, particularly those in the Scandinavian countries, can indeed contribute to enhanced feelings of personal control in relation to the reconciliation of paid work and family. There is also evidence to suggest that communicating wellestablished statutory policies such as childcare provisions and progressive parental leave regulations to those in countries with fewer provisions may increase the sense of entitlement. In the workplace, the business case is usually advocated as a way of persuading employers to implement family-friendly policies and practices (Galinsky and

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Johnson, 1998; Bevan et al., 1999). Our analysis suggests that framing work– family policies in terms of the business case may also play a significant role in enhancing employees’ sense of entitlement to demand or take up such policies, particularly in contexts where legitimisation of work–family balance does not come from the state. However, the analysis also indicates an important weakness of this argument, in that the effects are selective. Less-skilled workers who consider themselves least valuable to the organisation are least likely to be empowered by a business-case rationale. European directives have gone some way towards harmonising social policies across member states, but many national differences remain. However, as welfare states as well as employing organisations are increasingly downsized (Quilgars and Abbott, 2000), national differences in social-policy support for reconciling work and family may become increasingly irrelevant in the future. A challenge for policy-makers at European, national and organisational levels in the future will be to identify not only the necessary policies and supports but also the circumstances under which employees with family responsibilities can develop and sustain a sense of entitlement to take advantage of the supports they need to fulfil the demands of both work and family roles, in the context of prevailing discourses of individualism and uncertainty.

Note 1 An earlier version of this chapter will appear in Human Relations in 2002.

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Lerner, M. J. and Mikula, J. (eds) (1994) ‘Entitlement and the affectional bond: justice in close relationships’, Critical Issues in Social Justice, New York: Plenum Press. Lewis, J. (1992) ‘Gender and the development of welfare regimes’, Journal of European Social Policy, 2(3): 159–73. Lewis, S. (1996) ‘Sense of entitlement, family friendly policies and gender’, in H. Holt and I. Thaulow (eds) The Role of Companies in Reconciling Work and Family Life, Copenhagen: Danish National Institute of Social Research. Lewis, S. (1997) ‘Family friendly policies: a route to changing organisational change or playing around at the margins’, Gender, Work and Organisation, 4: 13–23. Lewis, S. and Lewis, J. (1997) ‘Work family conflict: can the law help?’, Legal and Criminological Psychology, 2: 155–67. Lewis, S., Kagan, C. and Heaton, P. (2000) ‘Dual earner parents with disabled children: family patterns for working and caring’, Journal of Family Issues, 21(8): 1,031–60. Major, B. (1993) ‘Gender, entitlement and the distribution of family labor’, Journal of Social Issues, 49(3): 141–59. Major, J. (1987) ‘Gender, justice and the psychology of entitlement’, in P. Shaver and C. Hendrick (eds) Review of Personality and Social Psychology, Newbury Park, CA: Sage, 7: 124 –48. Major, J. (1989) ‘Gender differences in comparisons and entitlements: implications for comparative worth’, Journal of Social Issues, 45(4): 99–115. Moss, P. (1996) ‘Reconciling employment and family responsibilities, a European perspective’, in S. Lewis and J. Lewis (eds) The Work Family Challenge: Rethinking Employment, London: Sage. Nasman, E. (1999) ‘Sweden and the reconciliation of work and family life’, in L. den Dulk, A. van Doorne-Huiskes and J. Schippers (eds) Work–Family Arrangements in Europe, Amsterdam: Thela Thesis, pp. 131–50. Nilsen, A. (1998) ‘Forever young?: a life-course perspective on individualisation’, Sociologia: Problemas e Práticas, 27(2): xx. Nilsen, A. (1999) ‘Where is the future?: time and space as categories in analyses of young people’s images of the future’, Innovation, 12/2 175–94. O’Connor, P. (1998) ‘A society in transition: socially created problems and solutions, Irish style’, Sociologia, Problemas e Práticas, 27: 79–96. Pfau-Effinger, B. (1994) ‘The gender contract and part-time work by women: Finland and Germany compared’, Environment and Planning, 26: 1,355–76. Quilgars, D. and Abbott, D. (2000) ‘Working in the risk society: families’ perceptions of, and responses to, flexible labour markets and the restructuring of welfare’, Community, Work and Family, 3(1): 5–15. Reichle, B. (1996) ‘From is to ought and the kitchen sink: on the justice of distributions in close relationships’, in Leo Montada and M. J. Lerner (eds) Current Societal Concerns about Justice: Critical Issues in Social Justice, New York: Plenum Press. Siim, B. (1991) ‘Welfare state, gender politics and equality policies: women’s citizenship in the Scandinavian welfare states’, in E. Meehan and S. Sevenhuijsen (eds) Equality Politics and Gender, London: Sage, pp. 175–92. Smithson, J. (1999) ‘Equal choices, different futures: young adults talk about work and family expectations’, Psychology of Women Section Review, 1/2 43–57. Smithson, J. and Lewis, S. (2000) ‘Is job insecurity changing the psychological contract?: young people’s expectations of work’, Personnel Review, 29: 680–98. Walby, S. (1994) ‘Is citizenship gendered?’ Sociology, 28(2): 379–95.

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Wetherell, M., Stiven, H. and Potter, J. (1987) ‘Unequal egalitarianism: a preliminary study of discourses concerning gender and employment opportunities’, British Journal of Social Psychology, 26: 59–71. Wood, S. (1999) ‘Family friendly management: testing the various perspectives’, National Institute Economic Review, 968–99.

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‘Most choices involve money’ Different pathways to adulthood Ann Nilsen, Maria das Dores Guerreiro and Julia Brannen

Introduction The title of this chapter is a quotation from one of the Norwegian focus groups in a discussion about autonomy and financial independence. The options available for accomplishing this at different phases of the life course and the means to do so vary and are important issues for young people. In this chapter we examine the discussions in the Portuguese and Norwegian focus groups. Comparing the data from the two countries allows us to examine how particular structural circumstances and individual resources shape young people’s expectations and the different pathways they take to adulthood. More specifically, we look at the forms of support which are available to young people in their present lives, and what thoughts they have on their future prospects of gaining financial independence. The structural dimension in a given society is a ‘silent discourse’ that enables and constrains the future life courses of young people. The political situation, welfare-state policies and the wider socio-economic conditions, as well as the situation in the labour market and education systems, are taken for granted by young people as they discuss their lives. Education, on the other hand, is increasingly an issue for discussion, as education systems in most European countries are being reformed to cater to the needs of the ‘post-industrial information society’ (Hobsbawm, 1994; Kumar, 1995). The individual’s access to these social and family resources – social background, educational qualifications and so forth – determine how young people interpret the wider context and relate to it. Indeed, the transition to adulthood, like all life-course transitions, is shaped both by the biographical process (see Chapter 3) and constituted at the intersection between history and biography (Wright Mills, 1980). Thus variations as well as similarities emerge across countries. At the individual level, the starting-point to adulthood is not the same for all young people of the same birth cohort; there are different ways of ‘becoming adult’ that depend on gender, family background and educational trajectory.

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Changing patterns of transitions in the life course A key aspect of the transition from youth to adulthood is the achievement of financial independence from the family of origin: setting up a separate household,1 getting married or establishing a permanent relationship, and having children (Stafseng, 1996). Fertility rates have decreased throughout Europe, with the disparity between countries also decreasing. For the cohort born between 1930 and 1960, Portugal and Ireland have shown the most marked decline in the countries in our study and in Europe (Hantrais, 1999). Nonetheless, although parenthood is happening later and may be less common, young Europeans vary in their patterns of independent living. European data from the European Community Household Panel (ISER 2000/1) show that patterns of separation from the family of origin vary across Europe along the axis of Northern-Protestant and Southern-Catholic countries. In the former, to which Norway belongs, young people move from the family home earlier and have a period of living independently, while entering the family formation phase later. To set up a household separate from the parental home without taking on the responsibilities of family life is, moreover, a high priority for young people in Northern Europe. National statistics show significant differences in the age for leaving the parental home. In Portugal 70 per cent of young people do not leave their parental home until they marry (Vasconcelos, 1998). In Norway, young people in most instances have to leave the parental home in order to go to university or college. However, young men leave home later than young women; in 1995 42 per cent of men in the age group 20–4 lived with parents compared with 21 per cent of young women (Roalsø, 1997). The Norwegian population is small. There are only a few major urban areas, and the population density is among the lowest in Europe. This makes it necessary for most young people to move away from home; they have to set up a separate household, albeit a temporary one. As an alternative to living in student bedsits on campus, it is quite common for Norwegian students to share a flat with friends. This makes the financial burden of steep rents more bearable, at the same time as providing a sense of security in ensuring company. In contrast, in the Southern-Catholic countries, the period of living with parents lasts much longer. Few young people live independently and family formation occurs earlier (ISER, 2000/1). In the Portuguese context, over recent years young people have tended to prolong living in the family home; in 1998 nearly 70 per cent of the age group 21–4, and 34 per cent of 25- to 29-year-olds lived in the parental home with at least one parent (Nunes, 1998). Among students, only a few (mainly from the upper-middle classes) move from the family home to study in a different city. Establishing an independent household of one’s own is not common (ISER, 2000/1). Not surprisingly, studies of the transition to adulthood are increasingly questioning conceptualisations of the ‘standard life course’. Most influential is the individualisation thesis which is proposed as the general trend for Western societies (Giddens, 1991, 1994; Beck, 1992; Beck and Beck-Gernsheim, 1995, 1996)

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and with which we take issue in Chapters 3 and 4. There is, however, widespread agreement that the processes involved in transitions to adulthood have changed considerably in Western European countries and across the social-class spectrum over the past half century (Elder, 1985; Stafseng and Frønes, 1987; Jones and Wallace, 1992; Mitterauer, 1992; Hobsbawm, 1994; Irwin, 1995; Stafseng, 1996; Furlong and Cartmel, 1997). A study of young American people concludes that the structural and cultural changes over past decades have rendered youth as a life stage ‘increasingly obsolete’, since it is being extended ‘indefinitely’ (Buchmann, 1989: 188). This argument refers to the increasing amount of time young people spend in the education system, as well as moves in and out of education, as labour markets demand the continuous updating of skills and qualifications. However, ‘youth’ varies by social class. A Norwegian study reports that the ‘youth phase’, defined as partial or complete economic dependence on the family of origin during education and training, while being very short for working-class people in the 1950s and early 1960s, increased as the democratisation of access to education took effect in the late 1960s2 and early 1970s (Stafseng, 1996). Nonetheless it is still shorter than for middle-class Norwegians. Moreover, there is some merit in the claim that youth has also expanded downwards into phases previously thought of as childhood (Brannen and O’Brien, 1995), as well as upwards into age groups which were thought of as adulthood. In conceptual terms, whereas adulthood was previously thought to follow a short transitional period called ‘youth’, the prolonged phase in the education system has signalled the arrival of a new term – ‘young adult’ – to describe those who have not yet entered the family-formation phase nor live with their parents. This group spans the teenage years to the 30s ( Jones and Wallace, 1992; Jones, 1995; Ferri and Smith, 1997; du Bois-Reymond, 1998; Kugelberg, 1999; Frønes and Brusdal, 2000). ‘Young adult’ is a term that is defined by lifestyle more than by age. What has taken place is a kind of disassociation between life-course phase and chronological age across a wider age group. This wider age group can, on the whole, be described as ‘youth’, albeit broken down by certain lifestyle markers. Living a so-called ‘independent lifestyle’ is one such marker. However this is heavily dependent on access to an adequate income and appropriate housing ( Jones, 1995). The question then becomes what kinds of activities – employment or education – are young people engaged in over this phase, and what means of income and support are available to them? Education is seen as crucial for young people’s present, as well as their future, lives. Without the necessary qualifications for gaining access to the upper echelons of the labour market, life in ‘post-industrial’ Europe can be difficult. The transition to adulthood is traditionally defined in the context of intergenerational relationships as well as in terms of rights and entitlements as citizens ( Jones and Wallace, 1992). Independence can be understood structurally in terms of financial independence from the family of origin and can also refer to young people’s feelings of autonomy with regard to making decisions about their own lives. In this chapter, we focus on young people’s achievement

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of financial independence from their families of origin which, as our data indicate, influences young people’s feelings of autonomy. This said, the notions of both autonomy and independence carry connotations that are associated with societies in which individual values and norms are more prominent than those with familial value systems. The two countries we focus on in this chapter – Portugal and Norway – are different in these respects. Family and kinship relationships are given more prominence in the Portuguese focus-group interviews than in the Norwegian ones. How these and other differences play out in more detail in young people’s discourses and practices is the focus of this chapter.

Education Education systems have changed a great deal in most Western European countries over the past three decades. In Norway the number of years in compulsory schooling has increased. Today nearly all 18-year-olds are in upper secondary education, learning either academic subjects or in vocational training (Norwegian Bureau of Statistics, 2000).3 Compulsory schooling in this country has therefore effectively increased from nine to twelve years over the past two decades. In Portugal the situation is different; young people spend nine years in compulsory schooling i.e. from the ages of 6 to 15, but many students leave school without having completed this level of education (Sebastião, 2000). A number of Portuguese studies have drawn attention to the lack of qualifications among Portuguese workers (Guerreiro et al., forthcoming 2001). A national action plan points, moreover, to the fact that approximately 76 per cent of workers have less than the compulsory level of nine years of education (Pedroso, 1999). Over all, only 65 per cent of young Portuguese people aged 18 are in education (Eurostat, 1999) and, among these, very few are in vocational training whereas more than 90 per cent of the Norwegians in this age group are in upper secondary education (Norwegian Bureau of Statistics, 2000). In both countries, as indeed in most European countries, a higher percentage of girls than boys complete the upper secondary level of education (Norwegian Bureau of Statistics, 2000; INE, 2001). In most European countries the gender gap in higher education is decreasing ( Jonsson, 1999), even if there is still a gendered pattern in the types of education students choose (Samfunnsspeilet, no. 4, 2000). On the whole, though, the gender ratio is equalising or women are outnumbering men, especially in higher education. By the age of 24 only around 20 per cent of young Portuguese people are still in education, whereas the equivalent percentage for Norway in 1998 was 32 per cent (Norwegian Bureau of Statistics, 2000). In Norway, there is a student grant and loan scheme. Students receive 30 per cent of the total annual amount as a grant, while the rest is taken as a loan that has to be repaid over 20 years.4 Although this scheme began in 1947 as a means of support for young people from families with a low income, ‘today the Education Finance scheme has become a way of providing a kind of “public income” to all students’ (Rogg, 1999: 385, translation).

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The circumstances for young Portuguese are different from the Norwegians, since their opportunities to enter further or higher education are dependent upon family income and resources. The drop-out rate at the lower levels of education is relatively high (Sebastião, 2000; Firmino da Costa et al., 2000). The Portuguese welfare regime does not provide subsidised loans or generous grants for students independent of parents’ income (Wall, 1998: 216). A current trend in Western European political thinking involves the idea of ‘life-long learning’. This implies that people move in and out of the system of education over the life course. Norwegian workers are entitled to unpaid leave of absence for up to three years to take any type of education, at whatever level,5 a provision which is not available in Portugal. Education decisions and basic qualifications are, however, still thought of as being gained in youth. Choices made in this phase lay the foundation for future opportunities for gainful employment.6 Moreover, even though the unemployment rate among graduates is rising in many European countries (Fitoussi and Rosanvallon, 1996: 128), higher education is not losing its importance as ‘a ticket to the good life’. Yet, while the number of years spent in the education system has increased in most European countries, social inequalities persist. In Norway there is still a strong association between parents’ level of education and that of their offspring (Samfunnsspeilet, no. 4, 2000). There are a number of explanations for this, with the material aspect of social-class differences being central. Indeed the sociology of education has been much concerned with these issues, from Bernstein’s work in the 1970s (Bernstein, 1971) to the present day (Bernstein, 2000). In Norway, after the age of 187 income can come from a variety of sources, but if waged work is not an option, then financial support from the family or from the state would, in most cases, be the only alternative. In all the countries in our study, financial independence from the family of origin figures prominently in young people’s discussions. Structural circumstances and individual life situations contribute to differences in the means of support available to young people in the present, and how they think about choices and options later in the life course. The ideal of achieving financial independence, however, is stronger in the Scandinavian than in the Portuguese context. In the latter, it is common for young people from middle-class families to be financially dependent on their families throughout their university studies (Wall, 1998: 231). Some young people do, however, earn spending money through part-time or evening jobs. Family relations are more obviously embedded in kinship relationships than is the case in Norway, not least because Portugal does not have the type of welfare regime which exists in Norway. Indeed the Portuguese welfare state has been described as ‘family based’ (Esping-Andersen, 1999) and as requiring young working-class people to fund higher and further education from their own earnings.

Analytic dimensions In the following sections we demonstrate how these themes of financial independence, support and the associated ‘mentalities’, which young people bring to

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these issues, are addressed in four focus groups – two in each country. Two groups consist of women students at university, one from Norway and one from Portugal. The other two groups consist of young men in traditional working-class jobs: the Norwegian men have vocational training at upper-secondary level while the Portuguese dropped out of school before they reached upper-secondary level. We have selected these groups because they highlight contrasts and variations in pathways to adulthood both across and within the two countries. As noted above, opportunities for gaining access to higher education are unequally distributed cross-nationally, while the welfare-state regimes differ, and family relationships assume greater significance in Portugal than in Norway. Educational opportunities are also inequitably distributed within both countries. Through the analysis of the focus-group data, we have identified four types of transition to adulthood. They represent different modes of ‘adjustment’ by young people both with regard to living in the present and for achieving independence in the future. We have matched the groups according to level of education and national context. While the groups are also matched by gender, the theme of gender differences is not a central focus of our analysis. Our main aim here is to show how differences in national contexts and social resources create variation in pathways to adulthood. This analysis challenges the assumption that there has been a shift from a standard biography to one of ‘choice’ as overly simplistic (see also Chapters 1 and 3). Two groups of university students are compared. The first group, Portuguese women students, represents what we have called a ‘long period of youth’ in lifecourse terms. The discussions in this group are suggestive of a life course in terms of phases and adulthood as distinctly different from the youth phase. These young people are financially dependent on their families while going to university and express a ‘family mutuality mentality’ in their outlook on life and the future. Other adjustment modalities are not available to these middle-class students, since they have only their families to depend upon. The second group consists of Norwegian women studying at university. Their lifestyles and practices are strongly associated with the term ‘young adulthood’ as we have discussed it earlier. In this group the life course is thought of in terms of a continuum rather than a set of discrete phases. Financial independence is a strong ideal in this group. Currently, their financial position is one of semiindependence, not in relation to the family but in relation to the state. Their sense of personal autonomy is sustained in this situation because they are not dependent on their parents. A ‘contingency mentality’ is what best describes their attitudes to life in both the present and the future. Their outlook on life is to plan on a short-term basis as they go along, and make changes as necessary to adapt to varying circumstances. They do feel rather confident, however, since their university degrees allow them wider occupational choice compared with those who have less education (see Chapter 4 for a similar presentation of this mentality). Two further groups are included and compared. The first is a group of Portuguese men in traditional male working-class jobs in the construction industry.

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Here the transition pattern is associated with a very short youth phase and an early entry into adulthood. We have referred to this transition as ‘early adulthood’ since the young men conceive of themselves as adults with adult responsibilities. In a sense the future has already arrived for this group; they are financially independent of their families. However, their situation can also be characterised as ‘precarious independence’ because of their insecure employment situation and lack of qualifications. Their mentality and attitude to life in general can be described as ‘getting by’; not surprisingly, they do not plan for their future, but strive to make ends meet in the present. The fourth group consists of Norwegian shipyard-workers. These young men see their life courses in terms of distinct stages, and think of their present lives in terms of ‘youth’, but with reference to an idea of adulthood which they envisage to be quite different from youth. We have termed this pattern the ‘short youth phase’, a period they currently inhabit. Their situation contrasts with that of the Portuguese construction-workers who have already moved into early adulthood. Their current financial independence from their families is important to these shipyard-workers. They earn their own wages and are making plans for their adult lives. We have called their mode of adjustment ‘a planning mentality’ (see Chapter 4 for a discussion of this approach to the future based on the same group of young people). Long period of youth: financial dependence and family mutuality mentality The first group is composed of Portuguese women university students whose ages vary between 18 and 23.8 All live with their parents, who also provide financial support for them. As noted above, in Portugal there are no publicly funded grants or subsidised loans available for students, as exist in Norway. Portuguese university students are financially dependent on their families of origin, although many work on an informal basis to earn ‘spending money’. Only those with very high ‘merit classifications’ or those whose parents earn less than the minimum are entitled to receive a grant.9 This situation is not seen as the most desirable from the young women’s points of view but only when they compare their situations with that of other young Europeans. However, the national and social context they live in give them little choice if they want to study. We have called this transition pattern a ‘long period of youth’, since the young women live with parents while studying and are financially dependent on them as no other options are available. As the quotations below demonstrate, these young Portuguese have very strong bonds with their families. In the following quotation the young women suggest they like the idea of being financially independent, but know they have no other options under the circumstances. A:

For example in Germany, the students are paid, they can’t leave the country for a number of years, they pay the money back to the government when they find work, but that’s why people there stay in school

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for a long time and have a lot more possibilities. I have a cousin living there and he already has three or four degrees, only now he stopped studying, he works and cannot leave the country. Focus-group moderator: Don’t you feel bad to continue to depend on your parents? Everybody: Yes. A: I finished grade 12 in ’92 and after that I didn’t go into university. B: I worked in a daycare centre for a year, after that I took a course in secretarial, computer and accounting. In the meantime I worked with my uncle in an accountancy office. He has his own company . . . then I had a salary, he paid me, I could buy my own things, wasn’t dependent on my parents, I didn’t have to ask for anything. And now I feel the difference. Financial independence is important, but in order to gain an education it seems worthwhile putting up with living with parents and the supervision this invariably brings. When asked about their relationships with their parents, they were very positive, however, and expressed a wish to live with them until they marry. This approach can be captured by the term ‘family mutuality’. A: I think my parents are terrific! Focus-group moderator: But they don’t say you have to study? A: It’s not exactly like that. You have to study. Of course they give advice like all parents, but I don’t see my parents just as parents but also as friends. We can talk, it’s not that kind of relationship where you just go home and eat and that’s it. We are friends, and I go out with my parents to places I also go with my friends. They all seem to have good relationships with their parents, and only one of the seven women in the group says she would like to move away from home before she gets married. Focus-group moderator: Do you feel that leaving your parents’ home implies marriage? A: I do. B: Me too, I wouldn’t be able to live alone. A: Living alone is not fun. B: You don’t have to leave home just to get married. You can live with someone you like or a friend. I would. Either with a friend or have my own independence. Let’s suppose I don’t get married, I won’t stay with my parents automatically. I have the right to live my own life, I don’t think that’s so terrifying. A: I think for me it’s because I’m afraid of living alone. So when I leave home it will be with someone. The group discourse among this middle-class group of young Portuguese women demonstrates both the dependence on family for financial support, and a sense

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of the mutuality of family relations. They see the way they live as the norm. Moreover, their contentment with living with their parents is reflected in their fear of living on their own which is seen as lonely. Only one young woman expresses a wish to live with friends. Thus the youth phase looks like lasting a long time since they will be at university for several years. As the next quotations show, the young people think of life in phases, and assume that adulthood will be very different from the phase they are now in. Asked what was important for them in the future, they said: A: B: C:

A steady job. Stability at work. After a steady job, starting a family, maybe more for the girls than the boys, I think most girls dream of having a husband some day, having children.

With respect to more specific time scales they noted: Focus-group moderator: How do you see yourselves 5–10 years from now? A: Ten years from now I am almost certain I’ll be married. Five years from now no, because I will have to finish my degree, and to start a family, buy a house, and for all that it’s necessary to have a job, there’s a certain time period, and five years from now I don’t think I will be in that situation. B: In five years I should already be married with two kids. C: In five years I plan to have my degree and be working and have my babies with a husband. Elsewhere in the discussion, these Portuguese students suggest that independence and autonomy are embedded in a situation where family and kinship play a significant part. Their outlook on the life course is clearly permeated by thinking in phases. They make a distinction between the present when they are young, and when they will be independent of their families. The youth phase for this group is particularly long in a Portuguese context since the majority of young Portuguese people typically marry rather early in life (Almeida et al., 2000). Nonetheless, it is part of a standard biography with distinct life-course phases and a clear distinction between youth and adulthood, as is the case in the other Portuguese group, to be discussed later, who make an abrupt transition from youth to adulthood but much earlier in the life course. The adaptation pattern of the group of Portuguese students is to depend on parents for financial support, as few other options are available to them in order to obtain a university education. What we have called ‘a family mutuality mentality’ refers to their way of discussing both their present and future lives. They accept the support parents provide and are very considerate in their attitudes to family and kin. Pais (1998) shows that a large number of young people say they will support and take care of their parents in the future.

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Young adulthood: semi-independence and a contingency mentality In Norway, the situation for students is different from that of the Portuguese as already discussed. Even if parents have the means to support their children financially throughout their education, students are entitled to support from the state in the form of grants and loans. As the following quotation from the group of Norwegian women students demonstrates, financial independence is regarded as very important, even if the burden of debt which student loans bring is feared. When asked if it was important to support oneself financially, the discussion quickly centred on autonomy and freedom. Focus-group moderator: Is it important to be able to support oneself? E: That’s got to do with pride in a way. A: I’ve never thought differently from that! D: No, really, it’d be really strange to think anything else. One of the young women at this point moved the discussion on to the general issue of the importance of financial independence for women, that is, from men as well as from parents. C:

D: A:

Well, that’s freedom. But it’s very difficult. Before it wasn’t usual for women to do that, so it was hard for them to choose. Make a choice. They didn’t have the money to choose with. And most choices will involve money, one way or another. [Agreement from the others] But it is really lousy being dependent . . . you know you’re locked into the situation and dependent on another person. Financially, it’s a bit of an awkward situation. Because we’re supposed to have so much freedom today . . . every single person should have freedom for everything!

The reason they are at university is to be able to choose employment later in life. This was discussed when the theme of permanent employment came up. One of the women thought a permanent employment contract was important, whereas the others were more concerned with being free to make choices and to leave a job if something better or more to their liking turned up. A:

C:

[A permanent job] that way you’ll get security. In a way you can calm down a bit. You know when you’re studying you’re going round all the time with that feeling that things are, well, insecure. I could fancy a permanent job. But I’d like to have the opportunity to. That’s the reason I’m studying, that I want to have the opportunity to choose. Right now you get cheesed off, a lot of people who are working and have worked for 20 years in the same job, start getting cheesed off. When you’re 50 and only have university entrance exams, maybe not even that, and there’s

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B:

Ann Nilsen, Maria das Dores Guerreiro and Julia Brannen no one who wants them. So now, now we have a chance to . . . well get a job somewhere else. Even if you don’t do it, you’re free to, and you know you can. And you’ve got . . . yeah, choices. It depends on what kinds of education you have and what kind of work you’re aiming for.

Asked if they thought the future would be entirely a matter of their own choosing, they said: D: A:

No it isn’t really. No, a lot of it is up to [you] or you’re limited because of, you know, study loans and money, and money and finances . . . that’s what I think anyway.

The ‘life of choices’, both in the present and in the future, is very attractive to this group of young people, and since they are all doing university degrees they stand a fairer chance of being able to choose between jobs compared with those who do not pursue higher education. Independence is greatly valued, while the main route to financial independence is to take a student loan. This pattern is one of semi-independence since, while being independent of their parents, they become dependent on the state. Compared to Portugal, then, the Norwegian system makes for financial independence from family at an earlier age. This independence costs young people dearly however, since later on in life they may have less opportunity to get a mortgage since they have huge debts to repay after completing their degrees. Indeed, the average loan for a student completing an advanced degree at university level is currently higher than the average annual income of an industrial worker. Moreover, the loans and grants provide insufficient support for the whole year, so the bulk of students do waged work in the summer holidays as well as work part-time throughout term time. Financial independence during university studies thus has a price in the future. The subsidised student loans were intended as an enabling measure, but over the years they have become an obstacle in young people’s lives. Needless to say, this has a social class dimension as well. Recent studies show that students from high income families take out higher loans than do those from lower income families (Samfunnsspeilet, 2000). No explanation for these tendencies is offered. It could be due to higher expectations in terms of future earnings as well as making them feel more secure in the knowledge that their parents may bail them out if their financial burdens become too great. The lifestyle of the Norwegian women students can be characterised by the term ‘young adulthood’, typified by their references to ‘freedom’, ‘choice’ and ‘independence’. In contrast to their Portuguese counterparts, they have adopted the discourse of individualisation and the rhetoric of choice. The life course is not thought of in terms of distinct phases as in the other groups. Adulthood is

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seen as a continuation of the present, while the ability and freedom to make choices is seen as important over the whole of their lives. A ‘contingency mentality’ is the term that best describes the outlook on life of this group (see Chapter 4 for a discussion of this approach). Early adulthood: precarious independence and a ‘getting-by’ mentality The next group illustrates a transition pattern that we have termed ‘early adulthood’. It consists of Portuguese construction-workers who have no formal skills, and whose parents did not have the means to support them through further or higher education. They are aged between 20 and 29 years of age, hence a few years older than the majority of young people discussed in this chapter. Their mode of adapting is to leave school early and to move into low-paid employment where they are unlikely to have permanent work contracts. Their independence is therefore ‘precarious’ while their mental mode of adjustment is one of ‘getting by’. They do not make plans for the future, and their income and work situation do not allow them to save in order, for example, to take leave of absence to study for qualifications to gain a better job. Asked what it meant to have a job, they commented: A: It’s fundamental – security. B: A certain different freedom. Focus-group moderator: Freedom in what sense? B: A person gets different responsibilities. Focus-group moderator: So you think a working person has more responsibility? B: Yes. Focus-group moderator: You think people take you more seriously, respect you more? B: Society respects me more. The discussion at this point turned to alternative activities, such as education. It then became apparent that education had not been among the options for this group because their parents could not afford to support them. A: I think that if a person didn’t work, what would he do? Stay home? B: Could study, try to study. A: But there is a time when the study ends and we have to work. B: It was necessary to have parents with a good financial situation. Focus-group moderator: Why did you quit school? B: I quit school because my parents didn’t have more. I wanted to go forward, wanted to go somewhere and didn’t have money, so school ended. What I know I know. What I don’t know – too bad, but I regret that decision now. I started work and I am still working.

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Asked whether they planned to return to school, or to take evening classes, they said that this would be difficult because their work was too demanding and hard. Focus-group moderator: And you don’t plan to go back to school? A: I would like to study and find the time, but the job takes all my time and then you also have to rest. Focus-group moderator: But now there are lots of ways. A: Working and going to school is difficult. B: A person starts thinking: we either go to school and sleep the whole time. It’s difficult, there’s no time, the day has only 24 hours, stress from morning to night, there’s no time . . . I would like to study . . . I even give more importance to school now than I did before. We used to go play ball and forget about school, now I have a different perspective on life. Without an education you can’t get a better job, better life conditions, but it’s difficult even if we want to do it. Focus-group moderator: So it looks like most of you would have liked to go back to school? B: Now we are more . . . we think more . . . if we had more years of school, grade 12, it would be easier to have access to a course and maybe in 10 years our life would be really good . . . with us life in ten years from now will be better, but in the end it will be the same because we didn’t take that step . . . we could take more than one more step . . . but it’s difficult with work, but maybe it can be done. There is some regret among these male Portuguese construction-workers about not having had the means to continue their education. Even though the building industry was booming at the time of the study, the relatively low pay, the insecurity of employment and the hardship of the work conditions make it nearly impossible for them to obtain the qualifications they missed out on earlier. Since very few if any in this sector of industry have permanent work contracts (some have no contracts at all), they lack employment protection. However, unlike in Norway, even with a permanent employment contract there is no right to leave of absence from work to gain qualifications. Thus financial independence is not an ideal for this group: it is a bare necessity. Their families are in no situation to provide for them following the end of compulsory schooling and some already have families of their own to provide for. There is little in the way of a welfare safety net if they lose their jobs.10 In some instances these young men contribute to the support of other family members. We have thus called their adjustment pattern ‘precarious independence’. In transition terms these young men represent a group of young people for whom adulthood arrives early in life. They think of life in terms of discrete phases; adult responsibilities are taken on early in contrast to the Norwegian working-class men we discuss in the next section. Their attitude to life is represented by the phrase ‘getting by’ in the sense that their concern is to generate sufficient income for everyday needs; the precariousness of their work situation and their low pay do not allow for much planning ahead.

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The precariousness of these Portuguese men’s situation must be understood in the context of a number of factors: their lack of family finances to enable them to pursue education and training; the absence of student loans and grants offered by the state; their precarious employment, notably temporary11 employment contracts or no contracts at all which mean they have no employment protection rights; and the fact that vocational training programmes are mainly available to the unemployed. Their life-course pattern therefore resembles that of working-class youth in Western Europe before access to higher education was democratised (Stafseng, 1996). Although these young Portuguese men think of the life course in terms of phases, the period of youth they enjoy is short, and they take on adult obligations early in the life course. The point here is not so much that their period of youth is short but that the arrival of adulthood is early. Short period of youth: independence and a ‘confident-planning’ mentality The Norwegian shipyard-workers, the fourth group in this analysis, share some of the characteristics of the young construction-workers in Portugal. These young men are aged between 19 and 23 years and have pursued vocational training at upper secondary level. They are skilled workers – electricians and welders. They are on permanent work contracts in a highly traditional male-dominated sector of employment. We have referred to their transition pattern as a short period of youth. In contrast to the Portuguese construction-workers, they have not yet taken on any adult obligations. They are financially independent of both the state and their parents – hence an adjustment pattern of independence. They express a confident planning mentality in their outlook on life in the sense that they are sure that their chosen vocation will enable them to provide for themselves and support a family in the future. In what follows they discuss their present work conditions, which are characterised by hard manual labour that they see as increasingly routine. D:

When you’ve been here for about ten years, you’ve seen most of what you’re likely to come across in this firm. I talked to a colleague, he wants to change his job now, he’s been working here for ten years, but it depends how easy it will be for him to get new employment now. He doesn’t exactly have the right [education] . . . to a very high education. Focus-group moderator: Is this about work being too physically hard, or is it about work becoming too much routine? B: Both. Several: Both. A: It is hard manual labour. Most of those who retire have a heart attack within the next three years because of all the dust and . . . there’s a lot of dust and noise here. B: Many become worn out, you know.

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Ann Nilsen, Maria das Dores Guerreiro and Julia Brannen It’s hard on the body. It is actually.

When they were asked about opportunities for alternative employment or further education or retraining it became clear that they were reluctant to take these up because their present jobs offered permanent employment and steady incomes. Focus-group moderator: What does a steady job mean, what do you think of in connection with a steady job? C: Regular income. You have something . . . it is secure. E: Perhaps you have obligations with a mortgage and stuff, and then it’s better if you have . . . that you know you have a steady job to go to every day, that you can keep up with your economic obligations. Focus-group moderator: So supporting oneself is important? (Agreement) C: Yes, and perhaps a family if you have one. In the next quotation they discussed the difference between their vocational choices and those of young people who choose to study at university. Their reluctance to take up student loans becomes evident here. E:

I must say I think it’s better to have a regular job, to be able to say, yes I’ve got a job to go to . . . than these people like the students who study for six years and end up with half a million (Norwegian Kroner) in debt for study loans and even then don’t get work. B: So you know it’s a fairly simple process, what we’re doing here to get a job. It’s three years of schooling . . . and at the same time you avoid piling up a huge debt, you’re even getting paid as you’re being trained! Focus-group moderator: Do any of you have study loans? Several voices: No. B: I try to get by without it. I’ll try to manage as long as I can without a loan. The same reluctance to take up a student loan came up when the discussion moved to the question of pursuing further training or re-training. Focus-group moderator: If you don’t have study loans, can’t you still make another choice now? B: That’s just the problem with making another choice, it’s the fact that you need money. C: You’ve got a regular income and then suddenly back in school again, and maybe you have to take on a study loan and so you’re in debt and you haven’t got any income. B: It’s terrifying. In contrast to the Portuguese construction-workers, who are on average a few years older, none of the Norwegians has children yet. But they assume they will

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enter the family formation phase in the future and, when discussing this, a strong breadwinner ideology becomes evident. They are similar to their Portuguese counterparts in that they are in male-dominated sectors of industry and their work is hard manual labour. They are also similar in that they earn an income that makes them financially independent of their families. Since none has children they have only themselves to provide for, unlike the Portuguese construction-workers, and they think of their present life-course phase as ‘youth’, while adulthood is seen as a later life-course phase. We have termed their positioning in transition terms a ‘short period of youth’. They envisage the future in terms of a standard life course and prepare for adulthood by planning for it. A few have already started a savings account for taking out a mortgage. Moreover, they have the opportunity to enter higher education to obtain further qualifications should they wish to do so. As noted earlier, they would be entitled to unpaid leave of absence for up to three years to take any type of education, at whatever level. Since they are already skilled workers, they could take part-time jobs in their current occupations while studying full-time. However, this would be a harder way to obtain qualifications compared with the average middle-class Norwegian student. These young men are determined to get by on what they earn as waged workers with enough to save for the future. Compared to the Portuguese construction-workers however, the Norwegians have a much wider spectrum of opportunities open to them. The ‘confident planning mentality’ they present is therefore reasonably well founded. However, it is also the case that the shipbuilding industry is precarious, as it is very sensitive to international market fluctuations. Focus-group moderator: Are there shipping industries that have been closed down? Several: Yes, in Sweden they’ve all closed down. C: Not much left there you know. Focus-group moderator: Hasn’t it gone the same way, a little in Norway? C: There’s been some critical situations here sometimes too, last summer was a close thing here. B: But now so much work is coming in, they’re making a profit of millions! This quotation demonstrates that working in the shipbuilding industry can be a gamble: the industry could disappear as they say happened in Sweden. Yet they were confident that they would find other work, or that they would be able to retrain in the future to gain qualifications that would enable them to become employable again. The Norwegian workers have rights and entitlements that the Portuguese lack, both because they are all members of a strong trade union, and because the welfare state provides a security net. However this latter state support is more or less taken-for-granted in their accounts; it is the ‘silent discourse’ in the Norwegian discussions. The taken-for-granted aspect of it comes out very clearly in discussions about future job changes and further training. As the Portuguese strive to make ends meet, the demands from their hard working conditions make

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it difficult for themto attend evening classes or part-time education. While the Norwegians have the opportunity to ‘choose again’ if they wish, their reluctance to take up the choices provided by the state (leave and student loans) makes it unlikely that they will make use of ‘the security net’ as long as their employment is secure.

Conclusion Recent conceptualisations of the life course, in terms of a prolonged period of youth, and the accompanying theoretical emphasis on lifestyle as a key marker of the life-course phase have served to take attention away from the structural circumstances within which young people’s lives unfold. A prolonged phase of youth has occurred partly as a result of the longer time spent in education and deferred entry to the labour market, together with other trends, notably the rise in age of first parenthood and the decline in marriage and birth rates. These are general patterns, however, and more detailed analysis of systematic differences between groups of young people show that the new forms of ‘standardised life course’ are more common in the middle and upper echelons than the lower echelons of society. Such patterns are more representative of Northern Europe. The idea of young adulthood as lifestyle is embedded in the theoretical assumptions of the individualisation thesis. Emphasis is on individual choice and style of life rather than on structural and material conditions for living. As Jones and Wallace (1992) observe, a focus on style and form and on ‘consumption for cultural choice’ obscures the fact that many young people spend nearly all their earnings on consumption for essential needs, and are thus excluded from consumer lifestyles on offer in the mass markets of ‘young adulthood’. Our analysis in this chapter suggests that comparisons between these two very different societies – Portugal and Norway – can be useful for demonstrating the diversity in young people’s lives and in their pathways to adulthood. The Portuguese context is clearly more family oriented than the Norwegian. In the latter the welfare state is a backcloth to which young people make only implicit reference; it is the silent discourse that shapes their outlook on the present and the future. The welfare state is taken for granted in everyday life in much the same way as family and kinship are for the Portuguese. There are differences in the patterns of transition to adulthood within Portugal and Norway that are related to cultural and structural variations. Although young people in Norway have easier and more democratic access to higher education than the Portuguese, recent data indicate that social inequalities still persist in Norwegian society, and that these inequalities make for different transition paths to adulthood. The period in education is longer for young people from middle-class backgrounds (Samfunnsspeilet, no. 4, 2000); hence the period before going into employment and waged work is longer. For those from working-class backgrounds this period is shorter, and they plan for ‘adult’ lifestyles and responsibilities at an earlier age. This is not to say that there have been no changes. More young people enter higher education than previously,

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from all strata in society, but the pattern of social inequality is retained. The most important change that has occurred is the increase in the number of women in higher education. In Portugal, pathways to adulthood vary along much the same social dimensions as in Norway. But the lack of a welfare state, that is universalistic, and a culture that favours family over the state for financial and other support, create very different structural conditions under which pathways to adulthood are constructed. The transition period is very short for Portuguese working-class young people. It bears similarities to the situation of working-class people in Norway before the ‘educational revolution’ and the establishment of the welfare state. The rhetoric of ‘individual choice’ does not permeate the discussions of the Portuguese groups to the same extent as in the Norwegian groups. Nor is there any evidence of the contingency mentality that is present among Norwegian students. Structural and cultural differences between the two countries may account for this, as family and kinship relationships are more significant in the lives of the Portuguese than of the Norwegians. The phase of ‘young adulthood’ in terms of lifestyle is more of a reality for Norwegian students who have university degrees and prospects of professional careers than it is for those in traditional working-class jobs. Our analysis indicates that, while the ideal of financial independence is strong in nearly all groups of young people, it is useful to make distinctions between those for whom this is a matter of choice and those who have no choice: among those whose families support them during education, those who see themselves as independent but depend on the state, and those who must support themselves. We have suggested four pathways to adulthood. They are embedded in the varied living conditions of two social classes within Portugal and Norway: the middle and the working classes. Middle-class Portuguese women students illustrate the long period of youth, being financially dependent on their families and holding an attitude of ‘family mutuality’ even if they wish to be financially independent. They think in terms of enduring and accepting this situation in order to secure a better future – when they have a family of their own and a career. They make plans for the future in the sense that they assume they will enjoy a long period of youth, a period spent in education, while being confident about the future. A pattern of this type could be thought to be representative of Western middle-class youth where welfare-state support for education does not exist, or is being withdrawn. The Norwegian women students come closer to the ideal of the ‘young adult’. They are already independent of their parents financially, but are dependent on the state for support throughout their university studies and have to repay the very substantial student loans. We have thus referred to their situation as one of semi-independence. Their attitude to life is permeated by a contingency mentality, while the ideal of choice is very attractive. No clear divisions are made between phases in the life course, as they hope and think they will continue to be able to make choices throughout their lives whatever circumstances they find themselves in.

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The transition pattern that we have characterised as ‘early adulthood’ is represented by the working-class Portuguese construction-workers. Their mode of adjustment is one of ‘precarious independence’, and their attitude to life we have termed ‘getting by’. Of the transition patterns suggested here, this is the one which is probably the most universal, since most of the world’s population lives in poverty with little or no protection in the form of labour rights or a welfare state. The contrast of this latter transition pattern is greatest with the pattern called ‘young adulthood’, a lifestyle that is associated mainly with young middleclass professionals in Northern Europe. A ‘short period of youth’ characterises the last of the four transition patterns we have identified and discussed. The young men working in the Norwegian shipyards are representative of this pattern. This transition pattern is embedded in a de-industrialising society which is moving to a post-industrial information society. A confident planning mentality nevertheless characterises this group. The young men adapt by being financially independent of both family and the welfare state. Their reluctance to take on debt in the form of student loans accounts for their hesitant attitude about entering further or higher education. New forms of social exclusion emerge as economic structures change, in particular the globalisation of capital and the increasing power of the market. However, there is much about the economic world that remains the same. The rhetoric of choice reflects the emphasis on change but serves more as an ideology than a factual description of many young people’s lives. Critical analysis of the conditions and circumstances in which different groups of young people live their lives indicates that opportunities accrue to those who have the financial or cultural capital to make use of them. As Jones and Wallace (1992) note, ‘Many of the new choices theoretically available to young people, including new forms of household and family formation, require an independent income, and access to an income is restricted’ (p. 154). Of the four transition paths to adulthood we have described here, the Norwegian students are most shaped by the discourse of choice and have greatest access to opportunities and independence from their families. They are representative of what Bauman (1998b) calls ‘the tourists’, in contrast to ‘the vagabonds’ who live in a ‘left-out time’ and a ‘left-out space’ – situations over which they have little control. This is not to say that only one group of young people is likely to succeed; far from it. In the ‘global village’ people live in circumstances wildly different from this ideal. However such a reflection should make those of us who study young people’s lives in the West wary of conceptualising and characterising emergent life-course transitions as new standard models. Rather than re-conceptualising emergent patterns as the norm, we should focus upon the diversity and contrasts between different pathways to adulthood.

Notes 1 Leaving home can be seen as a process that for many young people involves different stages ( Jones, 1995). Drawing on findings from Leonard (1980) Jones describes a

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distinction between ‘leaving home’ and ‘living away from home’, the latter being reversible, while the former constitutes a one-way, definitive breach (p. 25). The process of leaving home may consist of several periods of living away from home with shorter and shorter periods of living with parents in between. In the context of this chapter the main focus is on the combination of living arrangements and financial situation for young people in an age group that can be thought of as a transition phase before full adult responsibilities are taken on. This does not mean that the life course as a whole does not continue to be associated with chronological age. It does indeed, not least as the use of terms such as ‘ageism’ signify this. ‘Ageism’ refers to the discrimination of those aged 40+ in the labour market and in other areas of life. Compulsory education in Norway is from ages 6 to 16, but the combination of demands from the labour market for skilled workers, as well as the ‘A-level’ exams needed for access to higher education, makes it necessary for the great majority to spend at least 14 years in the educational system before going into employment on more than a short-term, part-time basis. The total amount for childless university students aged 18 or over, not living with parents, who do not have independent means of income, was in 2001 NOK 67,600 for a ten-month period; 30 per cent of this is a grant, the rest a loan that has to be repaid over a 20-year period after graduation. The loan is subsidised in that there is no interest to be paid on the loan while students are in education, that is, if the normal time period of time for studies is not exceeded. Act no. 4 (4 February 1977) relating to Worker Protection and Work Environment, no. 33D (1 January 2001) states that all employees who have been in employment for more than three years, and with their current employer for more than two years, have this right whether they are on permanent or temporary work contracts. As qualifications become ‘outdated’ in an ever-changing employment context, the idea of life-long learning is ideally meant to provide opportunities for people to update their skills, either on a full-time or a part-time basis. The former would, however, require the means of financing a period of non-employment which would in all likelihood be very stratified within any population. In Norway parents are financially, legally and socially responsible for their offspring until they reach the age of majority at 18. Until this age any economic benefit from the welfare system is dependent on parental income and situation. Mitterauer (1992) makes this an important point in his analyses, and sees a tension between this institutionally-created dependence on the one hand, and the ideals of independence associated with youth, on the other. Furlong and Cartmel (1998) use the term ‘semidependency’ to describe a situation where ‘legislative changes have been introduced which have served to reinforce the extension of semi-dependency, making it more difficult for young people to make early housing or domestic transitions’ (p. 111). It could be added that not only legislative changes are important in this regard; even more important is the lack of the financial means available to young people to cover housing. There is no identification of individual voices apart from that of the focus-group moderator. Grants are given to families whose income per capita is less than the minimum wage, currently 320 euro per month. Students must demonstrate successful progress every year. Merit grants are given to 1 in 500 students. When people are unemployed and if they have no formal contract, they are not entitled to unemployment benefit. They may apply for the ‘rmg’ (rendimento mínimo garantido), a special benefit. Those in receipt of this benefit must sign a ‘social integration contract’ obliging them to accept a job, to go on a training course (if they lack qualifications), or to follow a health programme if they are sick, addicted to drugs or alcohol.

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11 Labour rights are available to those who officially work longer than a period of 6 months.

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Nunes, João Sedas (1998) ‘Perfis sociais juvenis’, in Manuel Villaverde Cabral and José Machado Pais (eds) Jovens Portugueses de Hoje, Oeiras: Celta Editora, pp. 1–51. Pais, José Machado (ed.) (1998) Gerações e Atitudes na Sociedade Portuguesa Contemporânea, Lisbon: Instituto de Ciências Sociais e Secretaria de Estado da Juventude. Pedroso, P. (1999) ‘A estratégia Portuguesa para o emprego’, in Ministério do Trabalho e da Solidariedade, Plano Nacional de Emprego-Portugal e a Estratégia Europeia para o Emprego, Lisbon: DEPP-Departamento de Estudos, Prospectiva e Planeamento, pp. 17–23. Riley, Mathilda W. (ed.) (1988) Social Structures and Human Lives, Newbury Park, CA: Sage Publications. Roalsø, Kari-Mette (1997) Ungdoms levekår i 1990-årene, Oslo: Statistisk Sentralbyrå. Rogers, Rex Stainton (1997) ‘The making and moulding of modern youth: a short history’ in Jeremy Roche and Stanley Tucker (eds) Youth in Society: Contemporary Theory, Policy and Practice, London: Sage Publications. Rogg, Elisabeth (1999) ‘Fordeling av utdanning i tre årskull’, in Gunn E. Birkelund, Anne K. Broch-Due and Ann Nilsen (eds) Ansvar og protest: Kjønn, klasse og utdanning i senmoderniteten, Bergen: Sosiologisk institutt. Samfunnsspeilet (2000) no. 4, Oslo: Statistisk Sentralbyrå. Sebastião, João (2000) ‘The dilemmas of education-universality, diversity and innovation’, in José Manuel Viegas and António Firmino da Costa (eds) Crossroads to Modernity: Contemporary Portuguese Society, Oeiras: Celta Editora, pp. 261–77. Stafseng, Ola (1996) Den Historiske Konstruksjon av Moderne Ungdom (The Historical Construction of Modern Youth), Oslo: Cappelen Akademiske Forlag. Stafseng, Ola and Ivar Frønes (1987) ‘Ungdomsforskning: Metodologi og teoritradisjoner’, in Ola Stafseng and Ivar Frønes (eds) Ungdom mot år 2000: Et Nordisk og Europeisk Perspektiv, Oslo: Gyldendal norsk forlag. Vasconcelos, Pedro (1998) ‘Práticas e discursos da conjugalidade e de sexualidade dos jovens portugueses’, in Manuel Villaverde Cabral and José Machado Pais, Jovens Portugueses de Hoje, Oeiras: Celta Editora, pp. 214 –305. Viegas, José Manuel and Costa, António Firmino da (eds) (2000) Crossroads to Modernity: Contemporary Portuguese Society, Oeiras: Celta Editora. Wall, Karin (1998) ‘Portugal: issues concerning the family in 1996’, in John Ditch, Helen Barnes and Jonathan Bradshaw (eds) (1998) Developments in National Family Policies in 1996, Commission of the European Communities, pp. 213–49.

Appendix I

185

Appendix I

Tables (Chapter 1) In most cases these tables refer to the period during which the study took place. In some cases we include more recent figures to provide an indication of the direction of the trends. (See page 10 for full references.)

Table 1 Educational attainment of men and women aged 25–9 years, 1995 Country

Men

Ireland Portugal Sweden United Kingdom Norway EUR 15

Women

Low

Medium

High

Low

Medium

High

54 77 26 40 no data 38

24 13 46 36

21 11 27 24

47 76 21 53

33 10 48 27

20 13 31 20

42

21

45

38

17

Source: Eurostat, 1997, Tables E 5–6, reproduced in Hantrais, 1999.

Table 2 Youth unemployment as percentage of active population of that age, 1995

Age 15–19 Age 20–4

UK

Ireland

Portugal

Sweden

Norway

17.3 14.5

27.7 16.0

15.6 16.1

21.2 18.3

6.0 7.0

Source: Eurostat, Labour Force Survey, 1995, reproduced in European Commission, 1997.

186

Appendix I

Table 3 Trends in the under-25 unemployment rate as percentage of active population of that age, 1990, 1995, 1999

1990 1995 1999

UK

Ireland

Portugal

Sweden

Norway

10.8 15.9 13.0

19.4 19.5 8.3

10.0 16.6 8.9

4.5 19.4 13.6

7.0 7.0 12.3

Source: Eurostat, comparable estimates based on the European Labour Force Survey. Data for 1990 and 1995 reproduced in European Commission, 1997. Data for 1999 reproduced in European Commission, 2000.

Table 4 Trends in fixed-term contracts as percentage of total employment, 1987–95

1987 1995

UK

Ireland

Portugal

Sweden

6.2 7.0

8.6 10.2

16.9 10

no data 13.6

Source: Eurostat, Labour Force Survey, reproduced in European Commission, 2000.

Table 5 Percentage of fixed-term contracts in the under-25s and among all employees, 1995

Employees under 25 All employees

UK

Ireland

Portugal

Sweden

Norway

13 7

19 10

26 10

42 14

35* 12

Source: Eurostat, Labour Force Survey, and Norwegian Bureau of Statistics, reproduced in European Commission, 1997. Note * Mainly students working part time during education.

Table 6 Fixed-term contracts among young employees as percentage of employees in this age group, 1995

Age 15–19 Age 20–4 Age 25–9

UK

Ireland

Portugal

Sweden

Norway

17.7 10.8 6.4

33.0 15.4 8.6

27.4 25.3 15.3

56.8 35.6 18.7

no data 35.0 no data

Source: Eurostat, Labour Force Survey, 1997, reproduced in European Commission, 1997.

Appendix I

187

Table 7 Cohabitation, marriage and divorce, 1970–4, 1998 EU-15

Ireland

Portugal

Sweden

UK

Norway

Crude marriage rate (per 1,000 population in a given year) 1970–4 1998

7.6 5.1

7.3 4.5

9.4 6.7

5.1 3.6

8.2 5.3

7.3 5.4

Crude divorce rate (per 1,000 population in a given year) 1970–4 1998

1.0 1.8

– –

0.1 1.5

2.1 2.3

1.8 2.7

1.1 2.3

Percentage of couples cohabiting (1996) Total Age group 16–29

8 31

3 17

3 11

27 73

9 34

22 69

Source: Eurostat Demographic Statistics, 2000, European Community Household Panel, reproduced in European Commission, 2000.

Table 8 Average age at first marriage, 1990 and 1995/6 Ireland

Women Men

Portugal

Sweden

UK

Norway

1990

1995

1990

1996

1990

1996

1990

1995

1990

1996

26.5 28.3

27.9 29.7

23.9 26.0

24.9 26.9

27.5 29.9

28.9 31.3

25.0 27.2

26.7 28.8

26.3 28.7

27.7 30.4

Source: Eurostat Demographic Statistics, 2000.

Table 9 Fertility rates in Europe, 1990 and 1997 Country

Fertility rate (1990)

Fertility rate (1997)

Ireland Norway Sweden United Kingdom Portugal

2.11 1.93 2.13 1.83 1.57

1.93 1.81 1.51 1.72 1.46

Source: Eurostat Demographic Statistics, 2000.

188

Appendix I

Table 10 Parental employment in five countries, 1995

Mother’s employment (children 0–16) Mother’s full-time employment Mother’s part-time employment Mother’s average no. working hours per week Father’s average no. working hours per week

Portugal

Sweden

Norway *

UK

Ireland

69% 62% 7%

75% 35% 40%

72–85% –

58% 20% 37%

37% 23% 14%

38.1

–

29.7

25.7

32

44.5

–

38.7

46.9

40.7

Source: Eurostat, Labour Force Survey, 1995. Note * 72% for women with a child 0–2 and 85% for a child 11–15.

Table 11 Maternity, paternity and parental leaves, 1997–9 Duration of leave

% wage replacement

Norway

52 weeks parental leave 80% (or 42 weeks at 100%), including maternity Flat rate leave; child-rearing leave up to age 2

Sweden

1 year parental leave (including maternity leave) plus 3 months plus 3 months

80%

6 months maternity leave Additional 24 months parental leave

100%

Portugal

UK

Ireland

Flat rate Unpaid

14 weeks at 70%; optional 4 weeks not paid

14 weeks parental leave Not paid Source: Kamerman, 2000.

Paternity leave, 4 weeks, use it or lose it

Maternity leave may begin 60 days prior to expected delivery and ends 6 weeks after birth. Parental leave – 18 months – can be used until child’s 8th birthday; plus 6 months for each child if multiple births.

Unpaid

6 weeks at 90%; 18 weeks maternity 12 weeks flat rate leave 13 weeks parental leave Unpaid 14 weeks maternity leave

Other (paternity leave, lone parent and additional parental leaves)

Can be taken up to child’s 5th birthday 4 weeks must be taken before birth; optional extra 4 weeks unpaid leave can be taken up to child’s 5th birthday; both leaves cover adoption; 3 days paid family or emergency leave

Appendix II

189

Appendix II

Focus-group sample (Chapter 2) UK

Ireland

Portugal

Sweden

Norway

Total

Total participants in all focus groups Number of women Number of men

83 50 33

42 26 16

84 38 46

76 46 30

27 12 15

312 172 140

Age groups: Aged 19 and under Aged 20–25 Aged 26–30

26 25 32

15 20 7

20 51 13

18 33 25

13 14 0

92 143 77

Members of ethnic minorities

16

0

7

3

1

27

Occupational status: Working in permanent job Working in temporary job University student Vocational student Unemployed

16 15 23 13 16

9 0 8 22 3

10 16 37 14 7

17 17 13 16 13

5 4 5 13 0

57 52 86 78 39

Highest level of education reached: University degree School/training to age 18 School to age 15/16

46 16 21

19 18 5

45 24 15

25 51 0

9 18 0

144 127 41

Number of parents Number married Number cohabiting (approximate)

16 5 20

5 3 3

10 7 2

8 3 19

3 1 4

42 19 48

Focus-group guide (Chapter 2) 1

• •

Important things What are the most important things in your life and people you know (probe: job, family, relationships, leisure)? Has this changed for you in the last few years?

190

Appendix II

• • •

Is it likely to change in the next 5 or 10 years? Do you think this is different for men and women? In what way?

2

Parents’ lives What differences do you see between your life and your parents’ lives? Did your parents work? Did they share the housework? Do you expect to live in the same way as them?

• • • • 3

• • • • • • 4

• • 5

• • • 6

• • • • • 7

• • 8

• • •

Jobs What do you want from a job? What is important when you look for a job? Do you think it is important to support yourself ? How do you expect to do that (job/state/spouse/other way?)? Do you think it is different for women and men of your age? Do you expect to be in paid employment in five years’ time/ten years’ time? Settling/marrying Do you see yourself as settling down with a partner (if you’re not already)? What effect might a job have on this? Relationship versus job Would you put a relationship before a job? If you had to move away from someone you were close to in order to get work, would you do it or not? What about moving away to get promotion/a better job? Job situation here What do you think about the job situation in this area/in your line of work? Do you think it’s getting better or worse? What do you think can be done about it? What about the level of pay? What do you think about the idea of a minimum wage? Sex differences in jobs Do you think being a man or being woman is an advantage as regards getting a job? Do you think being a man or being woman is an advantage as regards receiving promotion at work? Long hours What do you think makes people work long hours? Would you work long hours? Do you think that working long hours has an effect on family life?

Appendix II

191

• •

Does shift work affect family life? What makes people leave a job?

9

New ways of working What do you think about new ways of working (more short-term contracts/ fewer ‘jobs for life’/teleworking/homeworking)? Are these things good for family life or not?

• •

10 Training • Is training important to you? • What sort of training is available to you? • Would you like more opportunities for training? • Is it different for men and women? • Is it different for people with children? 11 Who you live with • Who do you live with at present (parents/partner/friends/children/other)? • Do you think this will have changed after five years? • How do you feel about that? • Who does the housework in your house? • Do you see this changing? • Are you happy with this? 12 Having children • Is having children important to you or not really? • Under what conditions would you have a child? • When do you think is a good time to have children? 13 Parents (married, single or cohabiting) • Do you think it is important for parents to be living together when they have children? • Should they be married? • Do you think fathers should be forced to support their children financially whether or not they live with them? • What do you think of the Child Support Agency? 14 Pre-school childcare • Who do you think should look after a pre-school child? • What is best from the parents’ point of view? • What is best for the child (nursery/childminder/relatives)? • Can you imagine yourself/your partner working in this situation? 15 Combining work and family • Do you think it is easy or difficult to combine work and children? • Is it different for men and women or not really?

192

• • •

Appendix II Has it got easier since your parents had children? What are the effects on children of both parents working full-time? What are the effects on parents?

16 Employer help • Do you think employers should help people to do this? • In what way (maternity leave/daycare/flexitime/job-sharing/career breaks/ other arrangements)? 17 State and trade unions • Do you think the state should help people to combine work and caring for children? • In what way? • Who should be responsible for childcare? • What role do you think Trade Unions should play in these issues? 18 Benefits sytem • Do you think the state should provide benefits for those who cannot get work? What about those who don’t want to work? • What do you think of the new Jobseeker’s Allowance? • Is it fair? • • What should be done to make it more fair? • What about providing mothers who do not want to work with an income? • What about providing an adequate income for single parents? 19 Future • What do you think your life will be like in five years’ time/ten years’ time? • What would you ideally like to happen? • Do you think that being a woman/man will make a difference to the shape of your life in five years’ time/ten years’ time? • What do you think will be the main things that shape your life?

For the in training group:

• • • • •

What benefits do young people gain from taking a ‘job with training’? Is the training you are receiving preparing you for future employment? Is it what you want? Is it what employers need? Is there anything you would like to change about the delivery of the training or anything you would like to add?

Index

193

Index

action research 1–2, 19 adaptability model 35, 57–60, 63–4 adolescence 49 adulthood: concepts of 3, 30, 34, 49, 55, 58, 62–3, 89–101, 110, 164, 168; early 168, 173–5, 180; pathways to 30, 35, 40, 53, 64, 65, 162–84; young 167, 171–3, 178–80 aesthetics 43–4 affective attachment 82 age 50; ‘right’, for having children 122–3 agency 41–2, 65 Allen, N. J. 82 analysis 25; of focus groups 19–24, 166–8 apprehension about the future 35, 51, 53, 62, 63 Argyris, C. 78 attachment 82 authenticity 2 autonomy 162, 164 –5, 167, 170, 171 balanced lives 83–4, 85, 118, 158 Bauman, Zygmunt 41–4, 45, 48, 52, 60, 64, 180 Beck, Ulrich 32–3, 50, 52, 65, 66, 75, 93 Beck-Gernsheim, Elisabeth 45, 50, 75 beggars 50 Benschop, Y. 106 Bernstein, Basil 25–6, 34, 42, 44 Bertaux, Daniel 42 Billig, M. 106, 108 biography 30–1, 45, 162; choice 33, 35, 41, 48, 50–1, 53, 65, 167; standard 33, 35, 48, 50, 53, 65, 167, 170 bodies: materiality of 89–90, 91, 92, 101, 103, 110 Bottero, W. 90 breadwinner model 49, 54, 60, 62, 64, 92–6, 111, 116, 118, 134, 143, 144, 177

Bryman A. 16 business case: for entitlement to employer support 157–8; see also economic case Cartmel, Fred 181 categories: definition of 12 ‘child friendly’ policies 117 childcare 12, 39; needs 128, 133–4; policies 90, 116–18, 130, 134, 136, 143, 145–8, 156; responsibility for 89, 94, 97, 98–101, 104, 111, 116–37; support 4, 8–9, 59–60, 62, 135, 145–6, 149, 156 child-free relationships 7 childhood 30 children: having 59, 63, 116, 163; providing for 126–8; see also parenthood; parenting choice 48, 58, 135, 172; biography 33, 35, 41, 48, 50–1, 53, 65, 167; discourse of 64, 94, 102, 110–12, 137; individual 31, 33, 38, 40, 43–4, 50, 64, 89, 92, 110, 137, 178; lack of 81; parental 117; rhetoric of 36, 42, 172, 179, 180 class: social 30, 35, 36, 42, 50, 53, 65, 89, 134, 164, 172 Cockburn, C. 102 cohabitation 7, 125–6, 187 collectivity 41 commitment 82, 83 common sense concepts 12 communication 13, 26 compliance 37, 80–1, 84, 85 compromise 37, 80, 83–4 ‘confident-planning’ mentality 175–8 Connell, R. W. 89–90, 96, 97, 112 consumerism 31, 41, 43–4 contextualisation: macro-level 11–12

194

Index

contingency mentality 57–60, 167, 171–3, 179 continuance commitment 82 contracts: gender 140, 143–5, 151, 156; psychological 3, 20, 36–8, 40, 43, 70, 78–86; transactional 80, 83 contradictions: in discourse about gender 106–10, 112 countries: structural and institutional differences between 11–12, 24, 37, 44, 48, 116, 134, 136, 141, 142, 145–6, 156, 158, 162, 167, 178, 179 ‘couple compacts’ 59 cross-national research 1, 3, 11–29; comparative 11–13; designing the study 14 –15; ways of collaborating effectively in 13, 25 Daly, K. 51 deferment 75, 76; model 53–7, 58, 63 Den Dulk, L. 143 dependence: financial 55, 70, 168–71, 164, 166, 167, 170 desequencing of the life course 48 destandardisation of the life course 48–50 difference 20; between countries 11–12, 24; gender 97, 100, 107, 123, 148 discourse analytic approach 91, 106, 110 discourses 20, 25; dominant 23, 25; normative 24; ‘public’ 23 discrimination: gender 105, 106, 109–11 discursive consciousness 89, 105, 111 disempowerment 42–3 domestic work 89, 96, 98–101, 108, 111, 117 dominant discourses 23, 25; see also standard views dominant voices 21 Doorewaard, H. 106 ‘double nature’ of theories and concepts 32, 34, 44 Duncan, S. 143 early adulthood 168, 173–5, 180 economic case: for entitlement to employer support 149–51, 156–7 economic: growth 7–8; independence 5, 59, 70 education 35, 165–6; access to 5, 30, 178; extended periods of 4 –6, 49, 63, 70, 75, 127, 164, 178; plans for 3, reform in 31; theories of 31; university 58

educational attainment: levels of 4 –5, 185 elder care 39 employer–employee relationships 3, 140 employers: expectations of the role of 14, 37, 40; support for the reconciliation of employment and family life 140–1, 144, 148–53, 156 employment 6–9, 16, 30–1, 36–40, 49–51, 54 –5, 60–5, 69–86, 101–6, 110–12, 116–13, 140–4, 148–57, 171, 174 –7; and parenthood 116–37; reconciliation of, and family life 38, 40, 140–61; theories of 31; trends 6–8 entitlement: sense of 3, 20, 38, 40, 43, 141–2, 153–4; statutory 151–3; to support from employers 148–5, 156; to support from trade unions 154 –6; see also economic case; social case equal opportunities 2, 14, 91, 103, 108, 110, 140 Equal Opportunities Unit 2 equality 20, 106, 107, 110–12; discourse 106; rhetoric of 100, 108, 112 ethnicity 35, 53, 65; see also race European Commission 2, 3, 14 expectations 3, 4, 35, 53, 70–1, 73–5, 92, 141, 154 –6; of employment 30, 36–7, 70–5, 77, 86, 140; of state support for reconciling work and family life 145–8 family: starting a 3, 58, 62, 127, 170 family form: trends in 7: see also family formation family formation 7, 163, 164, 180 family friendly policies 157 family life 7–8; instability of 6; reconciliation of employment and 38, 40, 140–61 family mutuality mentality 168–71, 179 fatherhood 128 fathers 128, 130, 142, 153; and employment 8, 137 femininity 97, 136 feminist perspective 20 fertility 4, 7, 117, 118, 121, 163, 188 Finch, J. 39, 99, 107 ‘first world’ 52 flexibility 69–70, 84, 86, 152, 154; employer 80, 83, 84, 156; labour market 37, 43, 69–70 focus-groups 15–25, 48, 190–3; analysis 19–21, 37; as performance 21–4; method 15–19, 85, 119–20, 136, 157;

Index analysis and interpretation 19–24; recruitment methods 16–17, 25; sampling 16–19, 25 Furlong, Andy 181 future, the: planning for 34, 51–3, 64, 75–7; uncertainty about 52–3; young people’s perspectives on 3, 19, 20, 30, 40, 48–68, 116, 127 gay men 23–4 gender 1, 42; and life-course transitions 30, 34, 36, 49, 50, 56–7, 59–60, 63, 65; and paid employment 101–6, 110; and sense of entitlement 38, 153–4; contracts 140, 143–5, 151, 156; mapping 90; neutrality 95, 97, 100, 102, 103, 107, 111, 117, 118, 131; -role expectations 11, 35, 89–112, 119, 128, 132–3, 136, 142–3 Gender Development Index (GDI) 90–1 Gender Empowerment Measure (GEM) 90 Gender Related Indices 105, 111 gendered realities: young people’s awareness of 89–115 generational trends 4 –6, 30, 44 ‘getting-by’ mentality 173–5, 180 Giddens, Anthony 32, 45 globalisation 6, 40, 180 good practice: in employer policies 14 grounded theory 19 Handy, Charles 72 Hantrais, L. 11 Haugaard, M. 105 Herriot, P. 78–9 heterosexuality 92 homosexuality 7, 23–4 ‘house husbands’ see role reversal housework see domestic work housing 6, 76, 126, 164, 170 Human Development Index (HDI) 90–1 Hurd, T. L. 21 ideal types 48, 53, 63 ideologies 34, 45, 142; individualisation thesis as 41–3, practical 24; theories as 32 independence 124, 175–8; financial 5, 35, 162–80; precarious 173–5, 180; semi- 171–3, 179 individualisation: and the life course 3, 31–5, 158; structured 65; theory of 20, 31–3, 50–1, 163, 172, 178; see also choice

195

individual–structure dynamic, the 3, 30–47; critical discussion of 40–4 inequality: gender 89, 97, 101, 117, 120; of choice 43–4; ‘old’ 36, 45; social 1, 5, 166, 178–9 injustice: sense of 151–3, 157 insecurity: job 71–3, 77, 79, 82, 83, 85, 152, 174 interviews: individual 15, 23 Jones, Gill 41, 43, 178, 180–1 labour market, the: change in 6, 30, 39; demands 3, 60, 61, 81, 162; entering 2, 49, 57, 63, 69–70, 77, 178; flexibility 37, 43, 69, 85; insecurity in 37, 49, 64, 70, 72, 86, 127, 136, 144 leaving home 5, 49, 163, 169, 180–1 Leira, A. 117 lesbians 23–4 life-course 3, 40, 64; destandardisation of the 48–9; individualisation and the 32–4; linearity of 49; phases 32, 34; perspective 20, 30–1, 40, 44, 45; transitions 30, 34 –6, 40, 163–5 lifestyle 43, 54, 57, 65, 92, 164, 172, 178, 179 linearity 49, 51–3 living alone 56 location: politics of 95 long period of youth 167, 168–70 long-term security 60–2 longitudinal research 157 Lukes, Stephen 42 male breadwinner model 49, 54, 60, 62, 64, 92–6, 111, 116, 118, 134, 143, 144, 177 manhood 91, 92–7, 111 markets 40–1, 43, 180 marriage 7, 49, 125–6, 163, 169, 170, 178, 187; delaying 75, 77 masculinity 136; conventional 92, 95, 96; crisis in 93; hegemonic 92 Mason, J. 39 maternity 103; benefits 81; leave 9, 117, 145, 151–3; see also motherhood; parental leave McIntyre, A. 22 McKeown, K. 92 media, the 41 Meyer, J. P. 82 Mitterauer, Michael 33, 181 mobility 33, 43, 45, 57–8, 60, 123

196

Index

modernity: high 34; late 31, 32, 39, 51 mortgages 76, 176 mothers 97, 99, 104, 128–9, 147; employment and 8, 39, 49, 55, 59, 63, 116–37; see also motherhood motherhood 49, 97–8, 111, 124, 128–30, 142, 146, 156; see also mothers mutuality: family 169–71, 179 national see countries New Right, the 41 normative: attachment 82; accounts 119–30 norms: social 39 Nowotny, Helga 34, 51 occupational trajectories: decisions about 14 organisational change 6 orthodoxies: new 45 ‘other’, the: construction of 22 ‘outsider perspective’ 12 parental leave 4, 9, 41, 116, 117, 129, 130–3, 134, 140–1, 143, 145, 148, 150, 151, 153, 157 parenthood 140–61; and employment 4, 2, 36–40, 116–39; contemplating 3, 36, 121–8; delaying 75, 77, 127, 163, 178; lone 7, 39, 95, 118, 124 –5; step7; theories of 31; uncertainty about 77–8 parenting: shared 117, 130–3, 137 parents: financial dependence on 55, 70; working 8–9 partners 124 –6, 163 part-time working 59, 69, 89, 94, 118, 127, 130–3, 141, 153–4, 166, 172, 177 paternity leave 9, 81, 117, 145, 147 patriarchal dividend 90, 99, 105, 108 patriarchy 90, 97, 118, 144 performance: focus groups as 21–4 permanent jobs 72–5, 77, 85, 131–2, 152, 171, 174, 176 personal accounts 121, 123, 135, 136 planning 34, 51–3, 60, 64 –5, 73, 75–7, 168 planning project: life as a 45, 50, 65 pluralism: in experiences of time 51 policy: and the reconciliation of employment and family life 14, 116–18, 128, 130, 132, 134, 136, 143, 145–8, 156–8 political correctness 94, 106, 109

political radicalisation of young people 31 post-feminism 91 post-job-security era 69, 84 power: male 90, 98; social relations of 24, 42, 44, 89, 101, 108 practical: accounts 121, 123, 124, 133, 136; consciousness 89, 105, 111; ideologies 24 predictability model 60–2, 64 pre-school children: definitions of 12 present, the: extended 51–2, 54, 55, 57, 63, 65, 86; fragmentation of 52; living in 3, 53–7, 63, 64, 116; orientations towards 14, 34 –5 private views 23 progress 52, 53 promotion 101–6 psychological contracts 3, 20, 36–8, 40, 43, 70, 78–86; multidimensional 84, 85–6; new 70, 79–80, 81, 85; transactional 80, 83 public policy 39, 116, 132, 157–8; expectations of 14; on childcare 116–18, 130, 134, 136, 143, 145–8, 156 public services: deregulation of 40 qualifications 3, 54, 124, 127, 162, 164 –6, 174, 177, 181 qualitative methodology 1–2, 11–29; criticism of 19 questionnaire surveys 1 race 36, 65; see also ethnicity randomness 53 reciprocity 83–4 reconciliation of employment and family life 2, 14, 140–61 recruitment 101–6 reflexivity 12, 20, 22, 41 reproductive arena 89 respondent validation 2 responsibility 54, 56, 63, 163, 168, 173, 178; parental 122, 123, 125 retirement: elongated periods of 51 risk 53, 65, 66, 78, 85; society 32, 45, 52 Roberts, K. 65 role reversal 96, 98, 104, 111, 132–3 Rousseau, D. M. 78–80 sameness: ethnic 25 same-sex relationships 7 Savage, M. 101 ‘second world’ 52

Index security: financial 55, 62, 70, 76; job 62, 69–75, 80, 82, 84 –6, 124, 126, 171; long-term 54, 83, 122 self-reliance: constructions of 145–6 semi-independence 171–3 semi-skilled workers 49, 71, 150, 158 Sennett, Richard 51, 52, 53, 64, 65, 78 sense of entitlement 3, 20, 38, 40, 43, 141–2, 153–4; gendered 153 ‘settling down’ 54, 58, 63, 71, 75–7, 123, 127 sexuality 23–4 short-term commitment 37, 80, 81–3, 84 silent discourses 3 single parents see parenthood, lone skilled workers 69, 71, 85 social case: for entitlement to employer support 148–9, 157 social comparison process 142 social inequality 1, 5, 166, 178–9 social justice 20, 38; theory 140, 141 space 52; disconnection from 51 standard views 23; see also dominant discourses statistical methods 1, 18 state support for the reconciliation of employment and family life 140–1, 143–8, 156, 158 step-parents 7 Stokoe, E. H. 94 support: for childcare 4, 8–9, 59–60, 62, 135, 145–6, 149, 156; for the reconciliation of employment and family life 140–61 technological development 6 temporary employment 6–7, 37–8, 69–76, 82, 83, 85, 131–2, 135, 144, 148, 151–3, 155, 157, 175, 186–7 time 3, 20, 48, 51–3, 63, 64; acceleration of 51; and life course transitions 34 –5; cyclical models of 51, 52; excess of 52; horizons 14, 34; linear models of 51–3; orientations to 48, 127; typologies of 35

197

trade unions 80, 177; expectations and sense of entitlement to support from 14, 140, 144, 154 –6 tradition 64 training: extended periods of 4, 49, 7; vocational 12, 18, 53, 61, 116, 121, 165, 175 transitions: life course 30, 35, 48; patterns of 163–5 translation 13, 26 travelling 56, 70, 71, 123, 127 unemployment 51, 69, 71, 75, 120, 122, 144, 155, 175, 181; rates 3, 6, 8, 166, 185–6 United Nations, the 90, 105 university students 54, 57, 71, 131, 163, 167–72, 176, 179 vocational training 12, 18, 53, 61, 116, 121, 165, 175 Wallace, Claire 41, 43, 178, 180 Warren, R. 82 weak grammars: of social sciences 25–6 Weber, Max 53 welfare-state 3–4, 30, 38, 40–1, 117–18, 121, 140, 151, 156, 158, 162, 177, 178, 179; regimes 3, 36, 37–8, 142–4, 166; restructuring of 6, 43; universal 35, 37 ‘woman friendly’ policies 117 womanhood 91, 97–101 women’s movement 31 work ethic 43 work–family: framework 20; practices 119–21, 128; policies 143; supports 38 working life: compression of the 50 young adulthood 167, 171–3, 178–80 youth: concepts of 30, 34, 45, 54 –6, 62–3, 65, 127, 164, 168; democratisation of 31 youth phase: lengthening of the 3, 4 –6, 49, 50, 55, 164, 178; short 168, 175–8, 180