NOV 23 — On October 24, 1975, the women of Iceland staged a protest that would change the nation’s history.

Dubbed the “Women’s Day Off”, it was no ordinary demonstration.

Women from every corner of the country refused to go to work, cook meals, or clean their homes.

They walked out of offices and factories, left classrooms unattended, and abandoned their kitchens, making visible the invisible labour they had shouldered for centuries.

An estimated 90 per cent of Icelandic women participated, with 25,000 gathering in Reykjavík’s city square to demand equality. Streets buzzed with men awkwardly navigating household chores, juggling children, and preparing meals—tasks many were undertaking for the first time. Headlines the next day described the nation turned upside down as men scrambled to keep life running.

The strike, held during the United Nations International Women’s Year, laid bare the essential role women play in the economy, both through paid work and the unpaid care labour that underpins society. Its impact was immediate and profound.

Within a year, Iceland enacted a law banning wage discrimination based on gender, and just five years later, Vigdís Finnbogadóttir became the world’s first democratically elected female president.

The ripple effects of this single day still resonate, reminding us that society’s greatest dependencies often go unnoticed until they are withdrawn.

Unpaid care work, much like the labour Icelandic women withdrew that day, remains one of the most underappreciated elements of modern economies.

From cooking meals to raising children and caring for aging parents, this work is vital to the functioning of households, communities, and, ultimately, the formal economy.

Yet, it is neither recognised in traditional economic metrics like Gross Domestic Product (GDP) nor valued in monetary terms.

Globally, studies estimate that unpaid care work constitutes up to 9 per cent of GDP, a staggering US$11 trillion (RM49.2 trillion) annually, and in some countries, it exceeds 40 per cent. If women collectively stopped performing this work for even a single day, as they did in Iceland, entire economies could grind to a halt.

In Malaysia, the story is no different.

Women here perform the bulk of unpaid care work, shouldering a disproportionate share of domestic labour.

While Malaysia’s female labour force participation has risen to 55.8 per cent in recent years, it still lags behind men’s participation rate of 80.9 per cent.

This disparity highlights the dual burden faced by women, many of whom juggle professional roles with extensive caregiving and household responsibilities.

Research on gender disparity on unequal house chores distribution among dual-earner households was funded by the Ungku Aziz Center.

The numbers tell a clear story: Malaysian women spend significantly more time on house chores and child care compared to men.

On average, women log higher scores for chores and caregiving, with their efforts more concentrated in time-intensive tasks like cooking, cleaning, and washing.

Men, by contrast, often contribute to more episodic chores like repairs and bill payments. The data reveals that this imbalance is not just a matter of tradition but a reflection of deeply entrenched gender norms.

These norms assign caregiving and domestic work as “natural” female responsibilities, even when both partners work full-time.

In dual-earner households, women’s scores for housework and childcare remain consistently higher than men’s.

Meanwhile, many men still report minimal engagement in caregiving, with some distributions showing zero hours spent on child-related tasks.

This inequity has far-reaching consequences, not just for women’s economic opportunities but also for societal well-being.

The effects of this imbalance extend beyond the household.

Women who bear the brunt of unpaid care work often experience higher levels of stress and role conflict, as they are stretched between professional demands and domestic expectations.

This “time poverty” limits their ability to pursue higher-paying jobs, further education, or even leisure—an inequality that is reproduced across generations.

Children who grow up witnessing unequal divisions of labour often internalise these roles, perpetuating the cycle into adulthood.

Sociologists refer to this as the intergenerational transmission of gender norms, a phenomenon that reinforces traditional caregiving roles and delays progress toward equity.

Malaysia, like many countries, has significant policy gaps that exacerbate this issue.

The absence of mandatory paternity leave fails to encourage men to take on caregiving responsibilities, leaving women to shoulder the burden.

Subsidies for eldercare and childcare remain limited, and affordable, high-quality caregiving services are scarce.

These gaps not only place immense pressure on families but also limit women’s ability to contribute fully to the economy.

Addressing these structural barriers is not merely a matter of gender justice but an economic imperative.

The lessons from Iceland’s Women’s Day Off hold relevance for Malaysia and beyond.

To address these inequities, policies must be reimagined to recognize and redistribute unpaid care work. Introducing paternity leave, expanding childcare and eldercare services, and promoting flexible work arrangements can help balance the scales.

Moreover, the economic value of unpaid care work must be quantified and integrated into national accounts, providing a more accurate picture of economic productivity.

Finally, it is crucial to challenge cultural narratives that frame caregiving as inherently female.

Public campaigns, education, and workplace initiatives can help shift perceptions, encouraging men to take a more active role in caregiving.

As Iceland demonstrated nearly 50 years ago, change begins when women collectively say, “Enough.”

The day Icelandic women stopped working, the country took notice. Malaysia and the world must do the same—not just by recognising the hidden load of unpaid care work but by taking bold steps to share it.

*The author is a senior lecturer at the Department of Decision Science, Faculty of Business and Economics, Universiti Malaya.

**This is the personal opinion of the writer or publication and does not necessarily represent the views of Malay Mail.