From time to time, Russians are asked a simple question: would you consider a four‑day workweek? The answer tends to be theoretical, yet the conversation lingers—people express interest, even enthusiasm, but the reality often stays the same. Surveys in various places show strong curiosity, with many respondents indicating they would opt for a shorter week if offered the option. Then they continue to work as before, at least for now. The question, while still floating in the air, keeps resurfacing in many countries with practical experiments gradually taking shape.
In Spain, companies can adopt a four‑day regime, though the workdays stretch to ten hours over four days instead of eight hours across five days. The country’s sunny work culture includes a longstanding tradition of a midday break and, in some firms, a shortened Monday as a nod to the tough start of the week. These micro‑customs reflect a flexible approach to balancing work and life, rather than a single universal rule.
In Kazakhstan, lawmakers have signaled that a four‑day week could become part of labor legislation next year. Japan has long seen government support for a national four‑day week, but many workers and managers still resist the shift, balancing the push for efficiency with cultural norms about perseverance and dedication.
Nearly three‑quarters of the employed population in Iceland has moved to some form of shortened work week. Picture yourself in Iceland with three days off—an appealing image for many globally, illustrating how the idea is not just theoretical but already in practice in some places.
Across Western economies, independent firms run bold experiments with four‑day schedules. Drawing on early principles that leisure time could rise as productivity grows, many pilots report that output meets or even exceeds targets. They also cite benefits like greater creativity, better health, improved sleep, and fewer illnesses, with profits not suffering as a result. The question becomes why not try more widely—some Russian companies have experimented with similar ideas, though they remain a minority, hampered by concerns that shorter weeks might reduce control or discipline.
The post‑Covid era has pushed some employers to rethink telework and shorter hours. In Russia, officials still prefer to measure presence in the office rather than empty chairs, while remote work and flexible hours gain traction in pockets of the economy. The pace of experimentation often depends on how central creativity is to a given industry and firm, because creative output tends to rise when employees have more personal freedom to manage their time.
Many officials resist this insistence on freedom, arguing that prohibitions and rules do not stifle creativity. Yet history shows a different pattern: earlier generations faced limits, but modern productivity often grows when schedules become more humane. Fewer meetings, clearer objectives, and a leaner management cadence are common outcomes in places shifting toward shorter weeks, contributing to higher efficiency and happier teams. It is not unusual to see bureaucratic rhythms giving way to focused work sessions that respect people’s time and energy.
Scholars and researchers note that the five‑day week stems from older economic models. The idea that reducing hours can boost development and skills is not new. Soviet policy marked a landmark moment by introducing an eight‑hour day, followed by shifts toward two days off weekly in the late 1960s. In the United States, the Ford Motor Company pioneered a five‑day week in the 1920s, and the federal standard in the 1930s and 1940s formalized the forty‑hour week and overtime pay, shaping labor norms for decades. The USSR’s own shift from a six‑day to seven‑day cycle unfolded in the late 1930s and early 1940s, setting a long‑running pattern that later evolved with constitutional guarantees and labor laws. Today, the global surge of four‑day experiments points to a broader rethinking of how work should fit modern life, even as some regions lag behind the pace of change. The United States and other nations are testing shorter weeks, imagining a future where leisure and productivity coexist more harmoniously.
International data from the Organization for Economic Co‑operation and Development show variations in yearly hours worked across countries. For instance, Germany often records lower annual hours, while the United States and Canada typically hover higher, reflecting different economic structures and work cultures. Countries like the United Kingdom, Spain, and Japan are also experimenting with shorter weeks or reduced hours, while the global average points to a mix of long and short work patterns depending on sector and policy. In Russia, hours per year remain high compared with some peers, though the mix of formal hours and informal effort can blur the picture. These patterns underscore how productivity, mechanization, and training influence how much time employees spend on the job and how much value they generate in return.
Experts argue that a shorter work week can raise an employee’s skills, freeing time for personal growth and development. In turn, workers may bring stronger capabilities back to the job, helping businesses innovate and compete. Families can spend more time with one another, pursue health and wellness goals, travel, and enjoy cultural activities. A society with more flexible schedules could also see calmer cities, with less traffic congestion and a more balanced pace of life overall. Yet the shift also raises questions about how to structure weekends, holidays, and school calendars, as well as how to maintain service levels in customer‑facing roles. Some governments and firms may struggle to find the right balance between rest and economic output, especially in industries that rely on tight deadlines and continuous operation. Still, the momentum behind shorter weeks reflects a broader desire to align work life with modern expectations and opportunities, rather than clinging to inherited routines.
What matters most is a clear path: the pace of change is uneven, but the movement toward better scheduling is real. And while the debate continues, the focus remains on outcomes—health, creativity, learning, and sustainable growth—more than on abstract ideological commitments. The question for policymakers, business leaders, and workers is how to design practical pilots that deliver value for employees and employers alike while respecting local norms and economic realities. In the end, the aim is to create a future of work that sustains both human well‑being and productive capacity, wherever it is practiced. The evolving story invites careful listening and thoughtful experimentation, with results that could redefine how people live and work for years to come.