December 4, 2009 Care
What’s the fastest growing occupation in the UK, quiz-fiends? Well, the smart-Alecs amongst you will point out that with unemployment rising, there’s very little growth in any part of the labour market. But you will have slipped into the trap of presuming that the work that counts is paid work. Unpaid care work for family members is growing and growing. The 2001 census found that there are 5.8 million carers in the UK (doing work estimated to be worth around £87 billion to the economy), and this is projected to rise to 9 million by 2037 (Carers uk, 2009). Today, 4th December 2009 is Carers’ Rights Day. Carers are a hidden population, atomised by the nature of their caregiving commitments and too busy juggling to shout loudly. But they do something impressive.
When you become a carer (and if you haven’t already, the chances are you will for a time at least – there are 2.3 million new carers each year), you’ll work hard. You’ll strain your back lifting; you’ll be tired from waking at night to give medicine. You’ll learn how to manage complex treatment schedules. You’ll try not to scream at the individuals representing the institutions of the state who are supposed to help, but who ask you to fill in another form; who cancel your appointment at the last minute so you didn’t need to have a morning off work. Caring will make you cry. It will give you ‘ugly feelings’ (Ngai, 2009), make you resent (once, sometimes, often) the person you care for and will cause your other relationships to suffer. You will gain new capacities, but at some cost. You will need praise, but you won’t get it from your boss. Life will be something to be coped with as well as something to enjoy.
And yes, as a form of work it is complicated. It is unpaid, occurring in the private sphere, dominated by discourses of love and duty (Lyon, 2010), and carers are casually treated by welfare policy as being neither working nor unemployed. For example, carers allowance is awarded to those caring for 35+ hours per week. Once a carer starts claiming their pension, the allowance is removed even as the care duties remain, and so it isn’t a substitute for earned income. At best, it seems to be a symbolic payment, a rather miserly donation for being nice. Many carers combine care with paid work (60% of women, 74% of men of working age who care do this, according to Yeandle, 2008), and part of their care tasks may be to manage paid caregivers and service providers. Caring is not simple.
Glucksmann (2005) argues it’s not the location of an activity in the public sphere that means it should be called work, but the social relations that make it up. This means different configurations between state, market, family and voluntary sector give rise to different modes of organising care, and different interactions between paid and unpaid care (Lyon, 2010). Unpaid care work is not separate from market or state provision, rather the need for it is contingent on what sorts of other provision is possible or available in a country.
However, the formal organisation of care work is buttressed by discourses around who should care. Love and duty are in complement (and may be in tension) within a socio-cultural context that says that to be a good parent/wife/son/whatever is to take on the responsibility and activity of care; in the UK this impulse is enhanced by how alternative forms of caregiving are limited. And perhaps this is right: the quality of life of the person being cared for may be greater like this (although Nelson and England (2002) raise the question of whether paid-for care might well be morally right). It worth noting that this is not an inevitable, uncontestable moral position, but one that is regularly reproduced in media, government policy, by carers and those cared for as something which ought to be. The naturalisation of unpaid care as the way of showing love tends to override the difficulties of being a carer, and may be used to produce ‘fictive’ family ties when paid care is brought into the home.
Recognising care as work helps to understand the complexity of what care is, even though some carers would resist the label work, seeing caring as a gift of love. Thinking about care as work may help sort out the mess over benefits: it’s work, it needs support, and respite. And it may offer status to carers by acknowledging that there’s more to caring than loving. And that might offer carers a recognition that what they do has status; it’s not a natural gift and it doesn’t come for free.
References
- Carers UK (2009) Facts About Carers.
- Glucksmann, M. (2005) ‘Shifting Boundaries and Interconnections: Extending the ‘Total Social Organisation of Labour’’. In Pettinger, L., Parry, J. Taylor, R. F. and Glucksmann, M. (eds) (2005) A New Sociology of Work? Oxford: Blackwell Publishing/The Sociological Review.
- Lyon, Dawn (forthcoming, 2010) ‘Intersections and Boundaries of Work and Non-work: The Case of Elder Care in Comparative European Perspective’ European Societies 12(1): 1–23.
- Nelson, J. A. and England, P. (2002) ‘Feminist Philosophies of Love and Work’. Hypatia. Vol. 17, no 2 (spring) 1–18.
- Ngai, S. (2005) Ugly Feelings. Harvard University Press. Cambridge, Mass. and London.
- Yeandle, S. (2008) Transforming Lives: Time for a New Social Contract for Care. Paper presented at Carers UK conference on Carers in Communities: The local transformation agenda.

Comments
Great article Lynne. Hope you are well
At 5:28 pm on December 4, 2009 Rosemary said:
thanks Rosemary, very well. I hope all is good with you too.
At 5:44 pm on December 4, 2009 Lynne Pettinger said:
Thanks, an interesting post. It provokes an immediate response in me. In neo-liberal welfare regimes, statutory care provision comes to be dominated by a deficit of care. As the state retracts it becomes more and more incumbent upon family and friends to provide care that may have previously been provided on a statutory basis. In turn this functions to make care less of a feature of citizenship and more of a feature of individual responsibility (for the citizen-consumer, this individual responsibility is easily married to a sense moral obligation). There is also a social class gradient to caring, the well established links between material disadvantage and health inequalities show that those who experience the highest levels of deprivation also engage in the highest levels of unpaid care work (see UK 2001 census data).
So whilst there is a moral element, there is also a very explicit political element to care and caring. For me, this raises a question of whether the political context is actively legitimised by the deployment of the moral discourse. I don’t think it was always the case that care was seen as a ‘gift of love’. I think this is borne of the realisation of the cost of a ‘cradle to grave’ welfare state, associated with the fiscal crisis of the welfare state in the late 1970s. I look forward to reading Lyon’s paper.
At 9:02 pm on December 4, 2009 Ewen said:
“Those who experience the highest levels of deprivation also engage in the highest levels of unpaid care work.”
Undoubtedly true but which came first? Chicken or egg? Are more people caring in deprived areas because they have no other choice or prospects? or because deprivation itself leads to illness and disability? The highest levels of caring in the UK are in the former industrial areas, such as the mining areas of South Yorkshire and South Wales. This is where we see high levels of disability caused by those industries. When the last generation of industrial workers dies off, will that geography change?
Caring is about disability. The impact of disability on your family can differ greatly depending on your economic status and social class. Those with means can often handle the additonal costs it brings. Their expectations of what is an appropriate level of care may also be different, people may be less willing to give up their paid work to care. The response from support services may also be different. Social workers may be less likely to tell a teacher she must give up work to look after her elderly mum, than they would to tell someone working on a checkout.
But it isn’t always the case that your socio-economic status shields you from the worst effects of caring. I have met people who lived highly paid, middle-class professional lifestyles with the disposable income that comes with it. Caring (and the costs of disability) has taken their savings, investments and in some cases their homes and left them with nothing , living on benefits and in poverty.
Those are extreme examples but they highlight a stark truth. Choosing to provide care is something that can radically alter your economic status. The decisions we take at these stressful times in our lives should be informed decisions. Knowing your rights and accessing information is crucial which is why Carers Rights Day is an important campaign.
At 9:06 pm on December 7, 2009 Matt Hill said: