In Laborem Exercens, Pope John Paul II affirms that, through work, man must earn his daily bread. Throughout the 19th and 20th centuries, debates about human dignity in the workplace focused on slavery, forced labor, and the degrading conditions faced by millions of workers. Those struggles against exploitation were both necessary and just. Yet another issue is rarely addressed today: Beyond the right to rest and to dignified working conditions, is there also a right to work as long as one pleases?
For much of history, when discussing work the focus has been on protecting vulnerable people from abuse. In different eras, those responsible for such abuse bore different names: pharaohs, caesars, kings, and, more recently, those whom Marxists vilify as “capitalist exploiters.” The Catholic Church, in turn, especially through Pope Leo XIII and Pope Pius XI, addressed this same phenomenon under the phrase “the social question”—quaestio socialis. Yet a truly free society must also ask whether there is a limit to state or other agencies’ intervention in voluntary work. In other words, to what extent may the state prevent an adult from working more to support his family, increase his income, or pursue his own goals?
This question returned to the center of the Brazilian labor debate after the Chamber of Deputies approved, in two separate votes, proposal PEC 221/19, which establishes two mandatory days of rest per week but without a corresponding reduction in wages. In the first vote, more than 95% of lawmakers supported the measure. In the second, support exceeded 96%. Its proponents argued that the change will provide a better quality of life, more time for family, and improved working conditions. These are no doubt legitimate goals. The real question is whether any governmental body can legislate away economic natural law.
As an engineer, I like to draw an analogy from rocket science. If the U.S. Congress passed a law requiring every SpaceX launch to be successful, nothing in reality would change. Rockets would remain subject to the same laws of physics. If engineers ignored gravity, structural calculations, or the limitations of materials, rockets would never leave the ground. In extreme cases, they might even explode. The economy works in much the same way. It is possible to pass a law declaring that wages will not be reduced despite fewer days worked. What is not possible is to abolish the laws of supply and demand by legislative decree.
Pope John Paul II dug deeper in approaching this question. Before asking how much a person should work, we should first ask what work is. He teaches that work has both an objective dimension, related to what is produced, and a subjective dimension, related to the person who works. The latter takes precedence. The value of work does not derive solely from the good or service produced but from the dignity of the person who performs it. Man does not exist for work; work exists for man. At the same time, work is not merely a means of survival. It is a form of participation in creation, a way of developing human capacities, and a means of fulfilling one’s responsibilities toward family and community.
Under the Brazilian proposal, by which working hours would be reduced without a corresponding reduction in wages, the question becomes whether such an arrangement can be sustained without economic consequences. If firms are expected to maintain the same level of output with fewer hours worked, they must either hire additional workers, invest in new technologies, or accept lower productivity. None of these alternatives is costless. Each implies either higher costs or additional investment.
Supporters of shorter workweeks often argue that better-rested workers become more productive. This may indeed occur in certain sectors. The problem lies in turning an outcome observed in some contexts into a mandatory rule for an entire economy. Office workers, supermarket cashiers, farmers, truck drivers, waiters, and factory workers face very different realities. Public policy should be humble enough to recognize these differences.
When costs rise, part of the increase is often passed on to consumers. This is not because business owners are necessarily greedy or malicious. It is because economic reality imposes constraints. If producing bread, clothing, or services becomes more expensive, prices will tend to rise accordingly. In such a case, nominal wages may remain unchanged while real wages decline. The worker receives the same amount of money but that money purchases fewer goods and services. Once again, we encounter the laws of supply and demand, which do not disappear simply because legislation declares otherwise.
An often forgotten aspect of such legislation is that large corporations and small businesses do not face regulatory changes on an equal footing. Large corporations possess legal departments, human resources specialists, access to credit, and the ability to invest in automation. Small businesses have far more limited resources and so do not enjoy the same advantages.
Imagine a supermarket belonging to a national retail chain. If a new labor requirement is imposed, the company may be able to redistribute workers, hire consultants, or invest in new technologies. Now imagine a neighborhood grocery store operated by a family. Its options are far more restricted. The same regulation frequently affects large and small businesses in dramatically different ways.
This helps explain why many regulations unintentionally strengthen the largest market participants. Smaller firms have fewer resources with which to adapt. Some reduce operations. Others close their doors altogether. In extreme cases, the result is precisely the opposite of what policymakers intended: less competition, greater economic concentration, and fewer opportunities for workers and entrepreneurs.
The discussion becomes even more interesting once we ask who should make these decisions. Catholic Social Teaching, particularly as expressed in Quadragesimo Anno, developed the principle of subsidiarity. Put simply, decisions should be made by the smallest competent authority. What can be decided by the individual should not be transferred to the state. What can be decided by families or through voluntary agreements between workers and employers should not be centralized in distant authorities removed from the realities of everyday life. The debate over working hours is to a large extent a debate about who ought to make the decision about work hours and workdays.
Yet even if none of these unintended economic consequences were an issue, a moral question would remain: Who should decide how much a person may work—the adult worker or the state? The issue is not merely economic. It concerns who possesses the moral authority to determine the limits of voluntary labor.
There are certainly forms of coercion, exploitation, and labor abuse that must be confronted. Human dignity requires such protection. No free society should tolerate them. Yet this does not mean that every voluntary agreement between consenting adults ought to be approved first by some governmental agency.
Some argue that many workers accept excessive hours because they lack meaningful alternatives. This concern should not be dismissed. Exploitation exists and deserves serious attention. Yet recognizing that there is a problem does not automatically reveal its solution. Acknowledging the existence of abuse does not imply that all workers should be treated as incapable of making decisions about their own labor. Exploitation is often linked to low productivity, insufficient competition, inflation, legal insecurity, and barriers that make job creation more difficult. Restricting the freedom of all workers may end up addressing symptoms while leaving the underlying causes untouched.
John Paul II reminded us that work is a fundamental dimension of the human vocation. Through work, man supports his family, develops his talents, and contributes to society. For many Brazilians, working six days a week is not a form of exploitation; it is instead the means by which they pay their bills, raise their children, and put food on the table. And well-meaning legislation may now be endangering that means as Brazilian businesses are forced to compensate for the interference in their productivity.
The real debate is not whether the ideal schedule is a four-, five-, or six-day workweek. It is whether a free society can presume that responsible adults are capable of deciding how to use their own labor. To defend human dignity means protecting workers from abuse. It also means recognizing their freedom and their right to work—however long they choose.
