Explainer
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Economics
5 min read

Cleaning up cleaning: the problem with split shift work

Unhealthy and unnecessary working practices impact unseen cleaners. It doesn’t have to be like that argues Ryan Gilfeather.

Ryan Gilfeather explores social issues through the lens of philosophy, theology, and history. He is a Research Associate at the Joseph Centre for Dignified Work.

A cleaner sweeps between large white interior walls of a concourse.
Photo by Verne Ho on Unsplash.

In offices across the country cleaners are often kept out of sight whilst the other workers do their jobs. Cleaners are instead brought in for two short shifts, the first starting as early as 1, 2 or 3 am, and a second beginning around 8pm. Most of us overlook this pattern of work, taking for granted that it is necessary.  

However, dig a little deeper, and its insidious nature emerges. We begin to see how it is mostly unnecessary and harms the flourishing of cleaners in their health, family, and dignity. It treats small financial gains as worth more than human lives.  

For many industries, cleaning does not need to happen in the early mornings and late nights. Consider the downsides of daytime cleaning. The cleaner would need to manoeuvre around colleagues at their desks and in meeting rooms, but they would still clean to a high standard in a similar timeframe. Their job does not need to be done during unsociable hours. There is a minor cost to the company in the office. The office worker might need to briefly step away from their desk for a moment as it is cleaned, they may be momentarily distracted by the sound of a hoover, and a meeting room may be out of action for a very short time. The only costs would be a tiny loss in efficiency and profits to the companies who hire these cleaners. Since the negative consequences of daytime cleaning, instead of split shifts at unsociable hours, are so marginal, the current working patterns are clearly unnecessary. 

No choice, compelled to say yes 

Importantly, these cleaners often do not have any other choice. I meet many of these cleaners in my work at the Joseph Centre for Dignified Work. None of them choose to work split shifts at unsociable hours. For many, employment with better conditions is simply not available. About 27 per cent are migrants and often they lack English-speaking skills, preventing them from getting other kinds of jobs. 59 per cent have attained an education below the equivalent of C or 4 at GCSE, so it is hard for them to find other work. 17 per cent are ethnic minorities, who face greater barriers accessing other kinds of work. They have to work, they often have no better choices than cleaning, and in this industry they cannot say no to these working patterns. In this way, they are compelled to say yes to these kinds of split shifts.  

Split shifts deadly consequences 

This working pattern damages health. A recent medical study demonstrates that working night shifts, a similar pattern to split shifts, more than doubles the odds of developing breast cancer Another study shows that shift-work disturbs worker’s circadian rhythms. This in turn leads to problems with cancer, heart health, mental health, and more. Split shifts have deadly consequences for cleaner’s health. 

Eroding family time 

Split shifts also steal cleaner’s time from their families. When cleaners earn below the real living wage, their family relationships suffer; 48 per cent say that their wage level has negatively affected their relationship with their children. For many, poverty wages force cleaners to take on two or more jobs. As Angus Ritchie, an Anglican priest, academic, and campaigner for marginalised communities puts it, poverty wages force workers to: 

 ‘to choose between spending enough time with their children and having enough money to provide for them.’ 

These cleaners, who are often on poverty wages too, may only be able to briefly see their children between the end of school and the beginning of the nightshift, but will miss out on caring for them in the morning and enjoying extended periods of quality time. Therefore, when employers unnecessarily force these working hours upon cleaners, it also harms their relationships with their families. 

Denying dignity 

These patterns of work also render cleaners invisible. In an Equality and Human Rights Commission report from 2014, cleaners spoke about how they were made to feel ‘invisible’ and like the ‘lowest of the low.’ It is hardly surprising that they have this experience when the patterns of work we force upon them are designed to literally stop office workers from seeing them. Cleaners do crucial work which enables the broader enterprise of offices all around the country to function, yet they remain hidden away, their existence and contribution unseen and unacknowledged. Needless to say, these unnecessary split shifts take away their dignity. 

Why value humanity 

Campaigning to oppose this practice are Christians. Here’s why. The Bible and its tradition teaches that all human beings share the same inextinguishable value. As part of the story of creation says,  

“God created humankind in his image, in the image of God he created them.” 

Over the centuries Christians have interpreted this passage as affirming the same fundamental value of every person as one made in the image of God. Every person in some way dimly mirrors God’s inestimable goodness and love, and is, therefore, of greater value than all the riches of the world. To treat someone as less valuable than us or material goods is to deny the reality of how God created the world. 

Split shifts at unsociable hours, however, represents the opposite belief. As argued above, these patterns of working are largely unnecessary, and only lead to small financial gains for the companies who hire the cleaners through tiny increases in efficiency. However, these small riches are treated as worth more than the flourishing of lives which are of inestimable value because they are made in the image of God. Fractional gains in money are placed above their ongoing health, their family relationships, and their dignity through recognition. These meagre financial rewards are more treasured than the flourishing of lives made in the image of God.  

The working patterns are bad for cleaners. Not just because they damage health, but more fundamentally, because they deny the reality of God’s desire for creation. Enforcing split-shifts in pursuit of financial gain values small amounts of money above the flourishing of human beings, the infinitely valuable image of God, in their health, family, and dignity. 

Christians are beginning to oppose this practice. For example, in 2017, three Christian organisations (Centre for Theology and Community, Church Mission Society, and the church, St Andrew by the Wardrobe) launched Clean for Good. This ethical cleaning company treats cleaners fairly; they pay the Real Living Wage and give holiday leave, sick pay, training and guaranteed working hours. Crucially, they also don’t force cleaners into working anti-social hours. They offer cleaners working conditions and hours which enable them to flourish in their health, family, and dignity, because they truly believe that these workers are infinitely valuable, being made in the image of God.  

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Politics
8 min read

Looking upon Labour’s "loveless landslide"

What watching a night that changed the country tells us about its mood.
A poltiical pudit opines in a TV studio while his colleague leans in and listens.
The Two Ronnies.

I very much like Mr. Vine, but he is like a Gremlin: you must follow the rules and not give him caffeine or sugar on Election Night. 

What on earth has happened to Aunty!? One of the few things that has united people from the left and right (at least according to my social media) is just how mediocre the election coverage was. The evening started badly for the Beeb when they let Channel 4 distract viewers a full 15mins early. This was to allow Not Going Out to complete its important work of informing and educating the populace. 

As a result, I found myself glued to Channel 4 for most of the night, intermittently flicking back to the National Broadcaster for bouts of genuine bewilderment. In a Channel 4 lull I made the jump only to have every sense immediately assaulted by migraine inducing swingometer graphics (it was synaesthesia inducing…I could practically taste the rapid mix of red, yellow, and blue). This neurological bombardment intensified with the commentary of Jeremy Vine. I very much like Mr. Vine, but he is like a Gremlin: you must follow the rules and not give him caffeine or sugar on Election Night. His high-octane performance drove me to the limit immediately. 

Regular further jumps gave me glimpses into the bizarre: a journalist standing outside of Rishi Sunak’s blacked-out home telling us the lights weren’t on, telling Steve Baker to his face that he was going to lose his seat, having an interview with Jacob Rees-Mogg where he looked like a hostage reading out demands…it really was dreadful! 

Stewart was reinforced by Channel 4 Political Editor Gary Gibbon. With a soft yet authoritative voice, and the appearance of a cheeky Beano character fifty years on. 

I stuck to Channel 4 as my safe space. They very much cornered the market for coverage by bagging both The Rest is Politics and the Gogglebox cast, as well as producing regularly mismatched line-ups of former MPs to pass comment. I must assume this was intentional, but even if not, it meant comedy gold. The scene opened with Emily Maitlis and Krishnan Guru-Murthy talking over each other in a stumbling staccato, while Kwasi Kwartang looked unbelievably uncomfortable sandwiched in between Harriet Harmen and Nadine Dorries (in various shades of pink).  

There were many other talking heads throughout the night, who each brought some magic to the night: Nadim Zahawi (looking like a cross between a wise owl and a Bond villain), Carol Vorderman (who might have started celebrating rather early), Sir Alan Duncan (looking like a wine merchant holidaying on the Amalfi Coast). Mhari Black brought a rather refreshing bluntness to proceedings. 

The standout stars, however, were Mr. Stewart and Mr. Campbell. They brought the Centrist-Dads-disagreeing-agreeably energy that has seen their podcast top the charts. They played off each other with precision and genuine affection, and a fair bit of humour. Campbell would get into a mild row, and then Stewart would jump in with careful analysis that tried to look at the broader political landscape. Dorries proved the perfect foil to Campbell - speaking in accusatory non-sequiturs, rhapsodically musing on the ‘virtues’ of Boris Johnson, weaving nonsense narratives that wouldn’t even make it into one of her novels. Campbell would retort in a tone that was at once bewildered, bored, and bristling. Stewart would valiantly intervene to find the calmer waters of consensus, and the whole cycle would repeat. Kwarteng looked increasingly uncomfortable until he just upped and vanished - perhaps from the embarrassment of being in the same party as Dorries. 

In his attempt to be serious and measured, Stewart was reinforced by Channel 4 Political Editor Gary Gibbon. With a soft yet authoritative voice, and the appearance of a cheeky Beano character fifty years on, he gave the careful analysis of the polls and the turnout, which Stewart would then run with in broader political perorations. The two hosts would often chip-in (quite chippily, actually), rarely able to sublimate their obvious and banterous contempt for some of the more egregious spin. 

Meanwhile, Harriet Harmon looked cross.

A sense of angry Labour malaise was one of the leitmotifs of the night...  there was a noticeable lack of celebration. No smiles. No D:Ream soundtrack. No positivity

This struck me as odd. Just before the show it had been announced that she was to be elevated to the Lords. This honour appeared to give her no joy. Harmen brought every answer back to how dreadful the Tories were, until Kwarteng tried to make a joke out of it to cut the tension: ‘You won, alright!?’ Every successful Labour candidate who was interviewed focused their responses on excoriating the legacy of the Tories, as if they were still in campaign mode. At times it got rather uncomfortable. Every time Rachel Reeves let a grin slip through, she seemed to feel the need to overcorrect by attacking her fallen foes even more harshly. On one of my disastrous forays back to the BBC I was greeted with Wes Streeting being positively thuggish in his language. It wasn’t until Sir Keir gave his victory speech that any Labour figures seemed to feel like they could actually appreciate their victory. 

A sense of angry Labour malaise was one of the leitmotifs of the night. From the moment the Labour Landslide was announced there was a noticeable lack of celebration. No smiles. No D:Ream soundtrack. No positivity. Perhaps it was because they all recognised the truth, succinctly put by Gibbon when giving his immediate reflections on the Exit Poll Result: ‘That looks like love…but that is a loveless landslide.’ Voter turnout was low. The Labour Party went backwards in its vote in many areas - sometimes due to Reform, sometimes due to Gaza protests. This was epitomised by Jess Phillip’s wafer-thin majority. The always pugilistic Phillips had to give both barrels in her speech to those who had campaigned against her, who continued to attempt to drown her out.  

The Labour Party’s massive majority seems to be built on sand, and Zahawi was quick to point out that sand can easily shift. Labour are the beneficiaries of our winner-takes-all electoral system (a system I very much support), and so were continually reminded of the fact that Starmer is no Blair and ’24 is no ’97. The landslide will give some cheer to those who desperately wanted to see the back of the Tories. But it belies the reality that with both the Greens and Reform having four MPs, a number of Labour MPs being defeated by Independents, and decreased majorities in safe-seats up and down the country, we are not a nation united around the charisma of our new Dear Leader. 

Stewart and Campbell continually try to draw the conversation away from the tittle-tattle of what this might mean for Labour infighting and the Farage fulminations we can now expect to see in Parliament, to the broader and deeper questions for the very health of our democracy…but the pull of gossip is sometimes too great for Maitlis and Guru-Murthy. 

None of this is helped by Dorries. 

A big victory, but one which indicates no national unity or confidence. A defeated government that was tearing itself apart long before the loss. Low turnout and lower trust.

From the get-go Maitlis and Guru-Murthy tried to inject intrigue into proceedings; a tough ask when the result was the confirmation of what looked like a foregone conclusion from the moment the election was called. They did their best, and got some sparks from Dorries and Campbell - a Stannis Baratheon-esque grammatical correction (‘fewer’) had me roaring with laughter - but all-in-all I was uneasy. Not quite bored, but not entirely excited and hopeful. Around 3am I fell asleep in my seat. I was awoken at 6am to my children bursting into the living room. I valiantly attempted to continue to watch the coverage while feeding banana-porridge to my son, head tilted in the strain of hearing the telly over the roar of the world’s loudest washing machine. I turned back to my son, admitting auricular defeat. There is no porridge in his belly; plenty all over his face and in his hair.  

At 7am I was banished to the bedroom by my exasperated and long-suffering wife - it has become clear that I am not giving my all to childcare. I saw the gracelessness of Liz Truss arriving late and then refusing to give a concession speech. I saw Stewart play the silent Scottish assassin, gently pressing Stephen Flynn to admit that perhaps the SNP’s losses have something to do with their mismanagement with the Caledonian public realm. Rishi Sunak suggested the election was about tax, and everyone groaned in disbelief - he really doesn’t have any political instincts. 

I never recaptured the magic of the first couple of hours, probably because there wasn’t any. From 10pm onwards there was an underlying sense of disappointment and despair. A big victory, but one which indicates no national unity or confidence. A defeated government that was tearing itself apart long before the loss. Low turnout and lower trust. I am not surprised by this. “O put not your trust in princes, nor in any child of man: for there is no help in them.” This is the warning of the Psalmist. I have already written, a number of times, about my own disgruntlement at the political process, and my doubt that it will be easily remedied.  

But watching the coverage - the baffling BBC, the political Two Ronnies that are Stewart and Campbell, the remarkable hat worn by the returning officer in Blyth - I was fortified by remembering that while the Psalmist is correct, St Paul nevertheless gave us clear advice and instruction: “I exhort therefore, that, first of all, supplications, prayers, intercessions, and giving of thanks, be made for all men; for kings, and for all that are in authority; that we may lead a quiet and peaceable life in all godliness and honesty.” 

I shall pray for Sir Keir, for the new government, for all newly elected MPs.  

They need it. 

More importantly, we need it.