The Illusion of Modern Womanhood Unveiled

Despite decades of progress, the workplace remains stubbornly unaccommodating to women—particularly mothers. While the media continues to promote the image of the modern woman as effortlessly independent and successful, the reality behind closed doors looks very different. Across the UK, women continue to be penalised for having children, for needing flexibility, and often, for simply being women.

Although many women now study, train, and enter professional careers at the same pace as men, their progress stalls early and significantly. Male peers often advance with more ease, enjoying uninterrupted career trajectories while their female counterparts are frequently side-lined following maternity leave or requests for flexible hours. These aren’t isolated anecdotes; they are part of a persistent pattern seen across industries.

There is a tendency to blame the so-called ‘experience gap’. Career breaks for childcare or periods of part-time work are often viewed as a loss of momentum, even though they reflect a set of highly transferable skills. Time away from a desk doesn't mean time away from value; it often means developing better organisational, communication, and crisis management abilities than any office job could teach. Yet employers continue to undervalue this form of experience.

Motherhood is frequently cited as a barrier to employment, with women encountering coded language about commitment, flexibility, and "cultural fit." Despite advances in equality, the unspoken assumption still lingers: that a mother is less reliable than a man with the same qualifications. While men are praised for attending school plays or requesting paternity leave, women face subtle penalties for the same behaviours.

In a supposedly modern and progressive society, many mothers still find themselves calculating whether a part-time role will even cover childcare costs, or facing rejection from roles they are qualified for because of gaps in their CV. The practical and economic toll of childcare has made it nearly impossible for many to return to work—and those who do are often forced to outsource parenting to babysitters or nurseries for most of the week.

Despite offering some after school provision, the UK’s childcare support is inconsistent, expensive, and often reliant on location. Some state schools offer enriching wraparound care, but others offer nothing at all. What’s more, school activities—Christmas shows, parents’ meetings, and pop-in mornings—are often scheduled during working hours, reinforcing the outdated expectation that one parent is always available during the day. That parent is almost always assumed to be the mother.

This system is not only out of step with modern families, it is out of step with the rest of Europe. In Sweden and Denmark, childcare is heavily funded and widely available. In the Netherlands, part-time work is so normalised and protected that over 419,000 couples now work part-time simultaneously. These arrangements are not seen as compromises but as strategic choices for maintaining balance. Iceland has gone even further, introducing a 36-hour working week that has not only improved well-being but increased male participation in childcare and domestic life.

The UK, meanwhile, continues to expect women to fit into a system designed around mid-century ideals. Instead of adjusting institutional structures to reflect modern family life, women are asked to make impossible choices: career or caregiving, presence at home or participation in the workforce. For those who try to do both, the cost is often burnout, guilt, and a persistent sense of failure.

As The Times recently reported, the Dutch model of part-time work has become the norm for many, but it also highlights a flaw: while it offers flexibility, it can slow women's career advancement and limit financial independence. That said, the solution isn’t simply more flexibility, but smarter, more inclusive flexibility—paired with greater recognition of unpaid labour, stronger protections for part-time and flexible roles, and structural reforms that reflect the realities of modern family life.

Iceland’s shorter working week has proven that productivity doesn’t have to suffer when working hours are reduced. Instead, employees become more focused, less stressed, and better able to maintain their roles at home. Sweden and Denmark's childcare systems demonstrate that universal, accessible childcare benefits not just parents but entire economies.

Education systems must also evolve. Aligning school hours with working hours, as already trialled in countries like Malta and Sweden, would ease pressure on parents without compromising educational standards. Evening parent meetings, staggered event times, and accessible scheduling shouldn’t be radical ideas. They should be part of how we build a society that values families.

Until care work is valued on the same level as paid work, and until parenting is seen as a shared responsibility rather than a personal sacrifice, gender equality in the workplace will remain an illusion. Women aren’t failing to adapt. The system is failing to evolve.

It is not a matter of ambition or talent or work ethic. Women have proven all of those. It is about whether our institutions are willing to catch up with the lives women are actually living. The question isn’t whether mothers can handle both work and family life. The question is why they are still expected to do so alone.

In closing, it is worth pausing on one enduring truth: children with present, engaged parents are more likely to become confident, resilient, and emotionally secure adults—a fact supported by decades of research. If we are serious about the future of our society, we must create conditions that allow families to thrive. That means recognising the full spectrum of care—child-rearing, caregiving, emotional labour, and domestic responsibility—not as private concerns, but as integral to our economic and social infrastructure. It is time to move beyond rhetoric and ease the burden on families: to address long working hours, rigid schedules, unaffordable childcare, and the persistent expectation that parents—especially mothers—remain constantly available.

This is not simply a call for reform. It is a call for balance, for foresight, and for a more humane social contract—one in which modern women are no longer acknowledged only in policy but empowered in practice to live their lives in full, in a society that truly recognises their value and is finally ready to see them.