Why the jury is still out on four-day work weeks

Why the jury is still out on four-day work weeks

You’ve probably seen the headlines. They make it sound like a done deal. "Productivity skyrockets!" "Burnout vanishes!" It’s a tempting pitch, honestly. Who wouldn't want an extra day to sleep in, hike, or finally tackle that laundry pile that’s been mocking them for months? But if you look past the viral LinkedIn posts and the glowing press releases from tech startups in Iceland, you’ll realize the reality is a lot messier. The truth is that the jury is still out on whether the four-day work week is actually a viable long-term solution for the global economy.

It's complicated.

Business isn't a monolith. What works for a boutique marketing agency in London might be an absolute disaster for a manufacturing plant in Ohio or a level-one trauma center. We’re currently in the middle of a massive, unplanned experiment in how we value labor and time.

The data everyone quotes (and what they leave out)

Most people point to the 4 Day Week Global trials as the gold standard. They’re impressive, sure. In the UK trial involving 61 companies, a massive 92% of them decided to keep the four-day schedule after the pilot ended. Revenue stayed stable. Sick days dropped by 65%.

But here’s the thing.

Those companies volunteered. They wanted it to work. When you have a group of highly motivated employees and managers trying to prove a concept, you get what researchers call the Hawthorne Effect. People work harder because they’re being watched and because they desperately want to keep their Fridays off. But what happens in year three? Or year five? That’s where things get blurry.

We also have to talk about "work intensification." This is the dark side of the shorter week. To get five days of work done in four, people stop chatting by the coffee machine. They skip lunch. They condense meetings until their brains feel like mush. For some, the pressure of a 100-80-100 model—100% pay for 80% time, provided 100% productivity is hit—is actually more stressful than a standard five-day slog. If you're "on" every single second for four days, are you really better off than if you had a slower, more social five-day week? It’s a fair question.

Why the jury is still out for service and healthcare

If you work in a "knowledge economy" job, you can probably cut out the fluff. You can delete the pointless status update meetings. You can use AI to draft your emails. But how do you apply a four-day week to a nurse? Or a 911 operator? Or a construction crew with a hard deadline?

In these sectors, time is literally the product. You can't "productivity-hack" your way into performing a surgery 20% faster without, you know, killing someone.

For these industries, a four-day week usually means one of two things:

  • Hiring more staff to cover the gaps (which is incredibly expensive and difficult during a labor shortage).
  • Moving to "compressed hours," where people work four 10-hour shifts.

Ask anyone who has worked four 10s in a physically demanding job. By the end of day four, you aren't just tired; you're a zombie. Research from the CDC has shown that long work hours can lead to increased injury rates and more mistakes. So, while a software engineer might feel refreshed on a four-day schedule, a warehouse worker might just end up more broken down. This creates a weird "two-tier" workforce where the white-collar crowd gets more leisure while the blue-collar and service workers are left behind or pushed harder.

The management nightmare nobody mentions

Let's get real about the logistics for a second. If half your team takes Monday off and the other half takes Friday off, you only have three days a week where everyone is actually present. Collaboration starts to crumble. You end up with "meeting Wednesdays" where everyone is stuck in a Zoom room for eight hours straight because it's the only time they're all online.

I’ve talked to managers who tried this. They say the administrative burden is a nightmare. Tracking PTO, managing client expectations when a project lead is "off for their weekend" on a Thursday, and maintaining company culture becomes an uphill battle.

Then there's the "Parkinson’s Law" factor. This is the idea that work expands to fill the time available for its completion. If you give someone five days, it takes five days. If you give them four, it takes four. But does that mean they’re doing better work, or just faster work? There is a subtle difference. Deep, creative thinking often requires "fallow time"—moments of boredom where the best ideas actually happen. If we turn the workday into a high-speed sprint to earn a Friday off, we might be killing the very creativity that drives innovation.

The environmental argument is actually pretty solid

It’s not all skepticism, though. One area where the evidence is looking pretty good is the planet. Fewer commutes mean fewer carbon emissions. A study from the University of Massachusetts Amherst suggested that a 10% reduction in work hours could lead to a 14.6% decline in a person's carbon footprint.

That’s huge.

It’s not just the driving. Offices use less electricity. People spend more time at home, maybe gardening or cooking, rather than buying pre-packaged convenience meals because they're too exhausted to move. If we’re looking at the four-day week as a tool for climate goals, the case gets a lot stronger. But again, the jury is still out on whether those environmental gains are offset by people using their three-day weekends to fly to Ibiza or drive to a national park three hours away.

Looking at the global experiments

France tried the 35-hour work week back in 2000. It’s been a mixed bag. It certainly created more jobs in some sectors, but it also made French companies less competitive in the global market for a while. Many employees ended up working "overtime" anyway just to keep up.

In South Korea, where the "9-9-6" (9 am to 9 pm, six days a week) culture is still a thing in many places, even suggesting a four-day week feels like sci-fi. Meanwhile, in Japan, companies like Microsoft have seen massive productivity jumps during short-term trials.

But a trial isn't a policy.

Moving a whole society to a new rhythm takes decades. We are still living in a world built around the 40-hour week, a standard that was fought for by labor unions in the early 20th century to replace the 60-hour weeks of the Industrial Revolution. It took a massive cultural shift then, and it’ll take one now.

What actually happens to your brain?

Neuroscience tells us that the human brain isn't designed for eight hours of focus, let alone ten. We have "ultradian rhythms." We’re good for about 90 minutes of high-intensity work before we need a break.

The proponents of the four-day week argue that by cutting the total time, we force ourselves to respect these rhythms. We work when we’re there, and we rest when we’re not. But the critics argue that the "intensity" required to make it work actually triggers a chronic cortisol spike. You spend your four days in a state of fight-or-flight, and your three-day weekend is spent just recovering, rather than actually enjoying life.

It’s the difference between "resting" and "recovering." If you’re just spending your Friday in a dark room trying to get your heart rate down, did you really gain anything?

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Practical steps for businesses and workers

If you're looking at this and wondering if your company should take the plunge, don't just jump in because it's trendy. Most "failed" trials happen because of a lack of preparation.

Audit your current output.
Before you cut a day, you have to know what people are actually doing. Most companies have no idea how much time is wasted in "performative work"—emails that don't need to be sent, meetings that should have been Slack messages, and "checking in" just to be seen. If you can't identify 20% of your week that is pure waste, you can't move to a four-day week.

The "Soft Launch" approach.
Don't kill Fridays immediately. Try one "no-meeting Friday" a month. Then two. See if productivity stays level. If the world doesn't end, move to a half-day. This allows clients and stakeholders to get used to the shift without a sudden blackout.

Focus on "Asynchronous" work.
The four-day week only works if you stop relying on real-time communication for everything. You need robust documentation. If someone is off, the rest of the team needs to be able to find what they need without calling them. If your company relies on "Hey, do you have a sec?" as its primary workflow, a four-day week will fail.

Redefine the "Standard."
Maybe it's not a four-day week. Maybe it's a "32-hour week" spread over five days. For parents, being able to leave at 2:00 PM every day to pick up their kids might be worth way more than having Friday off. Flexibility is usually what people actually want; the "four-day week" is just the current label we've slapped on that desire.

The jury is still out, and it might stay out for another decade. We are watching a slow-motion collision between old-school management styles and a new generation that views time as their most precious currency. Whether this becomes the new global standard or just a footnote in economic history depends on whether we can figure out how to be productive without being performative.

Actionable Insights for the Path Forward:

  • Measure outcomes, not hours. Stop tracking when people log in and start tracking what they actually produce. If the work is done, the hours shouldn't matter.
  • Prioritize radical transparency. If you move to a shorter week, you have to be honest with clients about availability. Most clients don't mind a delay if they know exactly when to expect a response.
  • Invest in "Deep Work" infrastructure. Create quiet zones and "no-ping" hours so people can actually get their work done in the shorter timeframe.
  • Evaluate the "Why." If you're doing this just to stop people from quitting, it might not work. You have to fix the culture first, or you'll just have unhappy people who work four days instead of five.