October 27, 2009 When Home is Work
Studies of home work (Felstead and Jewson, 2000; Nippert-Eng, 1996) focus on the experience of doing (paid) work in your own home. They point to how the boundaries between public and private are eroded. Some homeworkers engage in a range of strategies to separate home and work temporally and spatially – through closing the ‘office’ door at 5, by clearing away the piecework components; for others such demarcations are not possible or desirable, for example when home work is combined with house work and childcare.
But what do we know about being a customer or client of a homeworker? How is the interaction influenced by this confusion of boundaries between home and work?
I have a research project on men who pay for sex and write about it on the internet. These men are sensitive when going to a flat or house (rather than to a brothel) to signs of home. Most want no sign of private life (teddy bears on the bed, for example, or cat ornaments), but sometimes one speaks of liking the feel of being in a home for its implication that prostitution is not a performance, but a reflection of authentic desire, so close to the sex worker that she does it in her own house, not in a rented place. Most important, though is ‘safe, discreet and clean’.
And what about other clients and customers? I was staying in a B&B run by a retired couple who paid great attention to delimiting space and also to circumscribe the services the customer is invited to take advantage of, and – more significantly – those which he or she is not.
The first indication of this came as I call to book (telephone booking; how 20th Century). I am asked to specify an arrival time. And if I can’t make this time I must let them know. When I ring to tell them the bus is late, the phone call itself is as much of an irritation to the landlord as the earlier threat of lateness had been. Then there’s the discussion about breakfast; I’m invited to state my preference, but I am not allowed to coincide with other guests, although I do not know this until the landlady’s face twitches and I sense I’ve made an error. Then too there’s the time I want to shower: this, it seems, needs establishing.
Di Domenico and Lynch suggest that spaces used by guest and host are ambiguous, and that guests may feel uncertain about their presence and conscious of boundary betrayal (2007: 331), and that this is more marked when the guest house seeks to present an authentic experience of place and ‘home’ (rather than hotel) (2007: 328).
So when home is work (and work is a way of life, as it must be when you rent your home and services out to passing strangers) it is hard to balance the public and private and to set rules in ways which make sense to customers. It is hard too for the customer, who expects service but senses their trespassing. Like the men who pay for sex, I quite enjoy the limited intimations of identity – certainly the decorative tray affixed to the wall and the carpet pattern seem revealing.
But for sure “The social niceties and obligations inherent in the interaction perpetuate the conflicts inherent in the provision of a commercial service within a domestic context” (di Domenico and Lynch, 2007: 333) and for the first time in my life I have an argument with a landlord.
References
- Di Domenico, M. and Lynch, P. (2007) ‘Host/Guest Encounters in the Commercial Home’. Leisure Studies, Vol. 26, No. 3, 321–338. DOI: 10.1080/02614360600898110
- Felstead, A. and Jewson, N. (2000) In work, at home : towards an understanding of homeworking. London: Routledge
- Nippert-Eng, C. (1996) Home and work: negotiating boundaries through everyday life. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press.


Comments
[…] that running a B&B is distinctly different from running a hotel, because it is ‘home’ as much as ‘work’, as I’ve argued here. But to participate the public world of the market, the B&B owner must sign up to the […]
At 10:46 am on April 5, 2010 Bed, Breakfast and Moral Regulation : No Way To Make A Living said: