Unemployment is a word that carries a heavy weight, not just in economic terms but in the subtle, often invisible ways it shapes the lives of individuals and families. On December 9, 2025, research by sociologist Aliya Rao, as highlighted in her book Crunch Time, cast a revealing light on how the experience of joblessness is far from gender-neutral—especially within the context of married, middle-class couples in the United States. Rao’s findings, published by LSE Inequalities, suggest that the fallout from unemployment extends well beyond the loss of a paycheck, reverberating through the bedrock of home life and the workplace, and deepening persistent gender inequalities.
At first glance, one might assume that losing a job is an equally jarring experience for men and women. After all, the economic consequences—lost income, instability, and uncertainty—are universal. But as Rao’s research uncovers, the social and emotional terrain navigated by unemployed men and women is markedly different. The expectations placed on each, and the support (or lack thereof) they receive from their families, are shaped by deep-seated cultural beliefs about gender roles.
According to LSE Inequalities, Rao’s interviews with unemployed women, like Cheryl Stanley (a pseudonym), reveal a telling pattern. Cheryl explained, "[Previously, my husband] would take more turns doing things. He would help with the dinner, meals, or cleaning. Now that I’m not working, it’s not even [in] the realm of… anything he’s thinking about. He doesn’t think about, well, maybe he could help clean the bathrooms, or he could run the vacuum, or he could do some shopping." For these women, unemployment was less a crisis to be urgently solved, and more an opportunity—at least in the eyes of their families—to take on additional unpaid work at home. Suddenly, household chores and caregiving became their primary focus, regardless of their previous earnings or career ambitions.
In stark contrast, unemployed men in Rao’s study were enveloped by a sense of urgency. Their families rallied around them, providing not only emotional support but also tangible resources: time carved out for job-hunting, dedicated space for their search, and encouragement to re-enter the workforce as soon as possible. The underlying message was clear: a man’s role as provider was paramount, and any disruption to this was a problem that needed fixing—fast.
This divergence, Rao argues, stems from what she calls the "ideal job-seeker" model. Families, perhaps unconsciously, picture an unemployed man as someone who must devote himself single-mindedly to regaining employment, restoring his status as the breadwinner. Women, on the other hand, are presumed to have "plenty to occupy themselves" at home—whether or not that aligns with their own aspirations. Their job search, if it happens at all, is squeezed into the margins of their day, often without the space, time, or emotional support afforded to their male counterparts.
Rao’s findings challenge the optimistic narrative that families and workplaces have achieved anything approaching gender equality. Even as late as the 1990s and 2000s, social scientists held out hope that the gap was closing. Yet, as Crunch Time demonstrates, unemployment can act as a magnifying glass, highlighting and even intensifying the traditional division of labor: men as economic providers, women as caretakers and homemakers.
The workplace, too, is not immune to these dynamics. Rao’s research, as summarized by LSE Inequalities, points to a troubling pattern in organizational downsizing. Drawing on the work of sociologist Alexandra Kalev, she notes that from 1971 to 2002, in a study of 327 U.S. organizations, layoffs disproportionately affected women of all races and men of color. The culprit? Layoff procedures that prioritized tenure and certain job categories—criteria that, perhaps unintentionally, put women’s positions on the chopping block first. As Kalev put it, while women weren’t explicitly targeted, the rules of the game ensured their jobs were more vulnerable.
But even when women take voluntary redundancy, as in the case of Michelle Curtis (a pseudonym), a journalist in the UK, the sense of being undervalued is palpable. Michelle reflected, "Well, they were all brilliant, but [during redundancies, managers] would go for the women first…. They knew that if they didn’t [take voluntary redundancy], they wouldn’t make the grade." For her, the decision to leave was a way to reclaim some autonomy, to exit on her own terms rather than be pushed out by a system that seemed to view women as expendable.
This sense of devaluation isn’t limited to layoffs. Rao’s ongoing research in the UK journalism sector finds that women are routinely overlooked for promotions and pay rises, their contributions minimized, and their positions regarded as less essential when tough decisions have to be made. The cumulative effect is a workplace that—despite decades of progress—still treats women as second-class citizens when the chips are down.
Why does this matter? Work, Rao argues, is more than just a means of survival. In contemporary capitalist societies, employment is a key source of identity, purpose, and social value. Those who work—and earn well—are seen as deserving, meritorious, and valuable. Conversely, unemployment carries a stigma that can erode self-worth and strain relationships, sometimes even leading to divorce. The pain isn’t just financial; it’s deeply personal and social, spilling over to affect spouses, children, and entire communities.
These questions are especially pressing in an era of rapid technological change. As debates swirl about how artificial intelligence and automation might reshape the labor market—potentially wiping out entire sectors or transforming economies—the human costs of unemployment deserve renewed attention. It’s not only about numbers and GDP; it’s about how social institutions like the home and the workplace respond to those left behind, and whether those responses reinforce or challenge old patterns of inequality.
Meanwhile, the mental health toll of economic and family pressures is not confined to one country or gender. On the same day as Rao’s findings were discussed, John J Kennedy wrote about the mental health crisis among men in India, where "family problems"—a catch-all for debt, illness, substance abuse, infertility, extramarital affairs, and domestic conflict—are driving a surge in distress. The specifics differ, but the underlying theme is the same: when social expectations collide with economic reality, the fallout can be devastating.
As society grapples with the challenges of unemployment and shifting labor markets, Rao’s research is a call to look beyond the surface. It’s a reminder that the costs of job loss are not distributed equally—and that, unless we pay attention to the ways gender shapes these experiences, progress toward true equality will remain frustratingly out of reach.
For those interested in delving deeper, Aliya Rao’s Crunch Time: How Married Couples Confront Unemployment offers a detailed exploration of these issues, challenging us all to rethink what it means to work, to care, and to value each other in times of crisis.