I have a confession to make. I am writing this article having just woken up from a siesta. This might not sound like much of a confession but it is for someone who has long eschewed the daytime snooze, however much there does seem sense in taking a "power nap"; and when it's called a power nap, it has the virtue of sounding as if it will lead to one's productivity being enhanced.
I'm excusing myself on account of having been one of the many who has succumbed to the Mallorcan flu and who is still recovering from it. In the circumstances, being knackered by the afternoon is not perhaps so unusual. But were it not for this enduring malady, given as it is March and not a time for hot weather (despite the most unexpected 27 degrees on Monday), there would - or should - be no excuse at all.
I am well aware of the theory that the Spanish working man (and sometimes woman) was so impoverished and poorly treated that more than one job was needed and that a consequence of this was the requirement for an afternoon kip in between lousily paid toils. The weather theory, though, is that much more persuasive (and true), and it is not as if Spain was the only Mediterranean country where the practice of a siesta and its equivalent was developed. Yes, in the heat of summer, there was and is much to be said for having a short burst of shuteye in a cooled, shutter-tight room. But at other times of the year ...?
The afternoon break, which doesn't necessarily entail sleeping, is a cultural habit. It is said that it is one that has become less ingrained into society, especially in places dominated by commerce; the larger towns and cities, therefore. Palma qualifies as one of these, and yet the bizarre phenomenon of four rush hours in one day continues. Additional pollution and greater spend on petrol (the most expensive in Spain as it is) are thus added to productive downsides of the afternoon break.
This break, siesta, call it what you will is just one element of the working day that academics, business associations and some politicians wish to amend. And joining their ranks is the national broadcaster; RTVE is bringing evening prime-time programming forward by an hour. In an act of unselfish altruism aimed at getting the Spaniard to turn in earlier, its nightly top shows (such as they are) will start at 10.15. Yes, you have read this correctly. A quarter past ten. And it will mean that going to bed will be around 2am rather than 3am. It shouldn't be so late but it can be because prime-time TV is prime-time advertising time. Slots for this are like programmes in their own right. On, on and on they go. So long are they that on one occasion when watching "The Shawshank Redemption" (in Spanish), it felt as though I had spent as long watching it as Tim Robbins had in digging his tunnel.
Different solutions to the working day have been advanced. The national commission for its rationalisation has been beating the drum for several years for a conformity with a norm of nine-to-five, insofar as this is the norm in other countries. Its principal concern is productivity, an aspect of which is the fact that Spaniards, as a rule, work longer hours than European counterparts. But these longer hours do not equate to being more productive. Parkinson's Law might have been developed with Spain in mind - work expands to fill the time available. Plus the time that is added on to take account of a lengthy afternoon break, which is a necessity if you have been watching telly into the wee small hours as much as it is a cultural habit.
Then there is the Greenwich Mean Time solution, one that has a great deal of logic given that the Meridian passes through Spain, that GMT was once upon a time used and that Portugal and the Canary Islands operate according to it. Such logic, though, runs up against cultural habit. The commission would like everyone to be working by 9am at the latest, to have finished work by 6pm at the latest, to not have had an extended breakfast break and to not have had a siesta. If they all finished by 6pm, then RTVE could presumably make its prime-time programming start very much earlier. But there is still one flaw in this plan. Dinner. Still, if there were a readjustment of the working day, then dinner might no longer be taken at the same time as the evening's main telly shows will be starting.
Might this ever happen? Somehow, you would doubt it. Cultural habits die hard, while maybe there is something to be said for thumbing a nose at generally-accepted working-day convention.
Showing posts with label Siesta. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Siesta. Show all posts
Wednesday, March 04, 2015
Saturday, January 15, 2011
The Time Of Day: Working hours and productivity
Did you know that there is a national commission in Spain dedicated to the rationalisation of timetables (Comisión Nacional para la Racionalización de los Horarios Españoles)? Well, you do now.
The title is a bit misleading. This commission isn't concerned with the "horarios" of buses or trains but with working hours. It wants, among other things, to bring the Spanish working day into line with most of Europe. In other words, the siesta would go.
The commission does not seek to make working days longer (the Spaniards already, contrary to what might be thought, tend to work longer than most Europeans). What it does seek is greater productivity, and Spain's productivity is one of Europe's lowest. Longer hours do not mean more productivity, as anyone, bar the most macho of managers, can tell you.
If it has its way, the commission would apply greater conformity to the working day, with 9-5 becoming more of the norm insofar as it can be said to be the norm anywhere nowadays. It would also like Spain to switch back to Greenwich Mean Time (some sixty years after abandoning it), a move, it reckons, that would aid productivity. Not that it does in Portugal where productivity is lower still.
There are a number of reasons for low productivity, not all of them to do with the siesta and the afternoon break, but some specifically are - phone calls not being taken; erratic schedules for appointments to fit around the break; too much commuting (in effect, four rush hours a day); too much food and potentially too much sleep.
To these can be added more general problems of higher levels of absenteeism than in other countries; lack of punctuality; too much time spent on meetings which aren't necessarily meetings just excuses for a chat and often in a café; and too little sleep (although some might nod off into a deep sleep in the afternoon, which is not a good idea, most don't but also don't sleep enough at night).
While there may once have been a sound reason for the siesta, and still is for those engaged in farming or labouring, there is less justification for it in what is now an advanced economy. Within the public sector there has been some attempt to move towards a 9-5 regime; the Ministry of Public Administration, for instance, has encouraged these hours. But there has been only limited success, and there is also the fact that many public offices which close at one or two o'clock then don't re-open later.
Coming into line with how business operates in other European countries would not be the only advantage for a realignment of the working day. Another would be that it would meet the demands of changing lifestyles. It isn't only the British, the Germans and other northern Europeans who get frustrated by the afternoon break, so also do increasing numbers of Spaniards. A further advantage would be to attack what is still something of a bureaucratic culture within business, as opposed to an entrepreneurial one.
Playing around with hours and time is, however, something of a challenge for a society that treats time with such disregard. This is no more than the case than with "mediodía". Just as lunch is literally a movable feast - any time you want it to be really - so also is midday. The vagueness of Mallorcan and Spanish time is probably the greatest culture clash that a northern European has to contend with. Midday is hardly ever twelve o'clock, but an appointment may be made for "mediodía", the exact time of which is anyone's guess. And whether the appointment is actually met is another matter; often it will not be because one man's one o'clock is another man's two-thirty.
This vagueness also leads to the almost unknown concept of punctuality. The word exists - "puntualidad" - but few have ever learnt what it means. I once turned up for an appointment bang on nine in the evening, as had been the arrangement. "Muy puntual," was the surprised comment. "I am English," I responded only half-jokingly.
For nine to five to become normal practice would require a pretty major shift in behaviour and culture, and, as with everything else, there is a tradition to be preserved, the siesta most obviously.
The commission for timetables faces opposition, such as that from the National Association of Friends of the Siesta. And yes, there really is one, and in October last year it held its first siesta championship. Seriously, there was a competition to judge the best siesta-ist. The commission may want to rationalise hours, but it will never be able to rationalise the irrational.
Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.
The title is a bit misleading. This commission isn't concerned with the "horarios" of buses or trains but with working hours. It wants, among other things, to bring the Spanish working day into line with most of Europe. In other words, the siesta would go.
The commission does not seek to make working days longer (the Spaniards already, contrary to what might be thought, tend to work longer than most Europeans). What it does seek is greater productivity, and Spain's productivity is one of Europe's lowest. Longer hours do not mean more productivity, as anyone, bar the most macho of managers, can tell you.
If it has its way, the commission would apply greater conformity to the working day, with 9-5 becoming more of the norm insofar as it can be said to be the norm anywhere nowadays. It would also like Spain to switch back to Greenwich Mean Time (some sixty years after abandoning it), a move, it reckons, that would aid productivity. Not that it does in Portugal where productivity is lower still.
There are a number of reasons for low productivity, not all of them to do with the siesta and the afternoon break, but some specifically are - phone calls not being taken; erratic schedules for appointments to fit around the break; too much commuting (in effect, four rush hours a day); too much food and potentially too much sleep.
To these can be added more general problems of higher levels of absenteeism than in other countries; lack of punctuality; too much time spent on meetings which aren't necessarily meetings just excuses for a chat and often in a café; and too little sleep (although some might nod off into a deep sleep in the afternoon, which is not a good idea, most don't but also don't sleep enough at night).
While there may once have been a sound reason for the siesta, and still is for those engaged in farming or labouring, there is less justification for it in what is now an advanced economy. Within the public sector there has been some attempt to move towards a 9-5 regime; the Ministry of Public Administration, for instance, has encouraged these hours. But there has been only limited success, and there is also the fact that many public offices which close at one or two o'clock then don't re-open later.
Coming into line with how business operates in other European countries would not be the only advantage for a realignment of the working day. Another would be that it would meet the demands of changing lifestyles. It isn't only the British, the Germans and other northern Europeans who get frustrated by the afternoon break, so also do increasing numbers of Spaniards. A further advantage would be to attack what is still something of a bureaucratic culture within business, as opposed to an entrepreneurial one.
Playing around with hours and time is, however, something of a challenge for a society that treats time with such disregard. This is no more than the case than with "mediodía". Just as lunch is literally a movable feast - any time you want it to be really - so also is midday. The vagueness of Mallorcan and Spanish time is probably the greatest culture clash that a northern European has to contend with. Midday is hardly ever twelve o'clock, but an appointment may be made for "mediodía", the exact time of which is anyone's guess. And whether the appointment is actually met is another matter; often it will not be because one man's one o'clock is another man's two-thirty.
This vagueness also leads to the almost unknown concept of punctuality. The word exists - "puntualidad" - but few have ever learnt what it means. I once turned up for an appointment bang on nine in the evening, as had been the arrangement. "Muy puntual," was the surprised comment. "I am English," I responded only half-jokingly.
For nine to five to become normal practice would require a pretty major shift in behaviour and culture, and, as with everything else, there is a tradition to be preserved, the siesta most obviously.
The commission for timetables faces opposition, such as that from the National Association of Friends of the Siesta. And yes, there really is one, and in October last year it held its first siesta championship. Seriously, there was a competition to judge the best siesta-ist. The commission may want to rationalise hours, but it will never be able to rationalise the irrational.
Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.
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