A nation small enough to conduct an experiment on itself has a lot to offer. Iceland is home to about 380,000 people, a parliament housed in a structure the size of a regional library, and a culture that values ideas enough to put them to the test. Therefore, very few people outside of Iceland were aware when Reykjavík City Council discreetly started shifting a few thousand public sector employees to a 35- or 36-hour workweek in 2015 without lowering their pay. The trial lasted for four years. Productivity, output, sick days, stress, turnover, mental health, and even the frequency with which employees reported fighting with their partners were all measured by researchers.
The outcome was nearly uncomfortably tidy. In the majority of workplaces, productivity either remained constant or increased. Burnout decreased. Sick leave was reduced. Employees reported having more enthusiasm at work, more time for their children, and a greater desire to prepare dinner rather than curl up on a couch. All of this was not intended to occur, at least not in accordance with the widely held belief that fewer hours equated to less work being completed. The trial included a wide range of Icelandic professionals, not just office workers tapping at laptops, such as social workers, hospital employees, preschool teachers, and civil servants.
| Topic Snapshot | Details |
|---|---|
| Country | Iceland |
| Trial Period | 2015 to 2019 |
| Workers Involved | Roughly 2,500 — about 1% of Iceland’s working population |
| Lead Organizers | Reykjavík City Council and the Icelandic government |
| Hours Reduced | From 40 to 35 or 36 per week, no loss of pay |
| Sectors Tested | Preschools, hospitals, social services, offices |
| Key Findings | Productivity held or rose; stress, burnout, and sick days fell |
| Long-Term Outcome | About 86% of Icelandic workers gained shorter hours or the right to negotiate them |
| Reports Published By | UK think tank Autonomy and Iceland’s Alda |
| Influence Abroad | Inspired pilots in the UK, Spain, Germany, Belgium, and at firms like Microsoft Japan |
| Article Length | 500–600 words |
Looking back, it’s remarkable how unanticipated the rollout was. No spectacular press conferences took place. The data, which was released in 2021 by researchers from Iceland’s Alda and the British think tank Autonomy, read more like a thorough audit than a manifesto. By the time the dust settled, about 86% of Iceland’s workforce had either gained the ability to negotiate their pay or shifted to working fewer hours for the same compensation. They just didn’t return. That particular detail is important. Seldom do people vote twice against their own interests.

Perhaps the most intriguing aspect of Iceland’s trial is that it ceased to be a trial. In the same way that you might absorb a new tax rule, the nation incorporated the change into regular working life and moved on. In their own ways, other nations paid attention. In 2022, the UK conducted a pilot with 61 companies and reported, almost sheepishly, that 92% of them continued with the four-day schedule. When Microsoft Japan tried it in 2019, they saw a 40% increase in productivity, but no one seemed to know how to handle it. Although the catch—the same total hours, just crammed into longer days—led Belgium’s unions to debate whether it mattered at all, the country’s legislation allowed for the compression of hours into four days.
Sensible objections are still raised by critics. In industries where output is directly correlated with hours spent behind a counter or on a factory floor, a four-day workweek is less effective. There is a legitimate concern that reducing the workweek without reconsidering the workload will only result in four stressful days instead of five. Furthermore, not all nations share Iceland’s political desire for such gradual, methodical change.
However, it’s difficult to ignore the pattern. The experiment is conducted in numerous nations with varying industries and cultures, and the results are consistently similar. The casualty that most people anticipated is not productivity. It was exhaustion. Iceland simply had the perseverance to measure it precisely and the integrity to report the results.