A history of the campaigners who in the 1970s were viewed as cranks for demanding pay for domestic work is unintentionally comic at times but, 50 years on, their ideas no longer seem so radical
In the 1970s, the campaigning group Wages for Housework – women, lay down your dusters! – was thought to be cranky and cultish even by some of the second-wave feminists who should then have been most sympathetic to its cause. The story went that if someone stood up at a meeting and announced themselves as one of its members, the audience would groan, knowing a lecture was inevitable; in 1975, the Guardian compared its acolytes (it never had more than a few dozen official members) to Jehovah’s Witnesses. By the time it finally fizzled out in the 1990s, its reputation was in the mud. Increasingly riven by factions, former members accused its leadership of bullying and intimidation.
But some ideas take a long time to come into their own. In Britain in 2025, the issue of social care and its funding is impossible to ignore. This morning, I read of Andrea Tucker, who successfully challenged in court a demand that she repay £4,600 in carer’s allowance overpayments (Tucker looked after her mother for 15 years; the Department for Work and Pensions claimed she breached weekly earnings limits, in spite of it having previously advised her otherwise). Post-Covid, just about everyone is aware of the fuzziness of the line between work and home, while the concept of a universal basic income, once thought radical to the point of loopy, is fast gaining credence. In England, a pilot scheme is running in central Jarrow, north-east England, and East Finchley, north London; Andy Burnham, the mayor of Manchester, is a vocal adherent.