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The Housework Imperative


“Act only according to that maxim by which you can at the same time will that it should become a universal law.”

                Immanuel Kant

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Ah, the categorical imperative. Remember that from Intro to Philosophy? Immanuel Kant’s solution to moral dilemmas. Of course, quirky Kant recognized that not all of life’s problems require ethical decisions. For these other, amoral quandaries he proposed the hypothetical imperative: if you want X, do Y. The hypothetical and categorical imperatives separate those decisions made in prudence from those made on principle.

Today’s questions: Can housework ever become a question of categorical rather than hypothetical imperative?

One could convincingly argue that housekeeping usually falls squarely under the hypothetical imperative. We partake because we want some result—to be able to walk through a room barefoot, to have room to cook or play, to stop worrying about cleaning, to avoid embarrassment or even censure. Is there a point when housework crosses from want to duty? To clarify, for this essay I am defining moral claim in Kantian terms. In a nutshell, an action follows the moral principle when it is based on a rule that we believe should be universal. To test the morality of an action, determine the maxim or rule of that action and then apply it universally—what if everybody did it? If that result is coherent and desirable, the action is moral.

So, should housework ever be considered morally imperative? I say, not until there are significant health risks involved. Otherwise, it’s simply a culturally defined habit, a vanity of those with nothing better to do or with money enough to pay someone poorer to do it. (Housework is the first domestic task outsourced by working women.) In some cases, it’s an unhealthy obsession that detracts from time spent with family and friends.

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“Housework is work directly opposed to the possibility of human self-actualization.”

                Ann Oakley

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My own solution to the problem of determining the necessity of housework is the Slide Rule, as in, what happens if I let this slide? Usually the answer is nothing. Toys can sit there. Books can pile up on the mantle. In time, yes, things do become dangerous—books and papers become stacked too high, floors become unnavigable, sink drains become unhygienic. And it is here that we find our answer: at this point keeping house has moved from the daily tedium of setting a good example and following the rituals with which we were raised to Categorically Imperative. Lowly housework becomes lofty moral challenge!

Perhaps you can tell: I don’t like housework. Actually doing it is not the problem. I hate the idea of it. I hate having to do it. Unfortunately though, my tolerance for dust and dog hair has a limit. After reaching that limit, instead of taking care of it, I become defensive about my dirty house and miffed at anyone not taking care of it, anyone I perceive to be adding to it, and anyone who doesn’t have to deal with it. I have nothing but contempt for this clot of slackers, which includes me, my family, my dog, dead leaf chunks that come in on our shoes, and anyone who tries to contact me in any way.

Therefore, not doing housework itself becomes a moral situation. Would you or would you not want everyone in the world to walk around consumed by hatred? Best not. So, in our household we’ve come to a compromise: one predetermined day a month everyone pitches in, to the best of their abilities, and cleans. Every four weeks, nothing else happens that weekend until the house is clean. We scrub and dust and vacuum and take on whatever new project has congealed. We break for lunch. We get back to it, until the house has that sparkling, unlived-in look. Then we let it go again, immediately. And because I know there is a day set aside, I don’t worry about it in the meantime. Of course, dishes and laundry and some picking up have to be done in the interim, but these are small and easily adjusted to. Not like scrubbing grout or pulling out the dead rat of drain hair.

Some people might think we’re crazy, letting the house go for an entire month! Other people might think we’re crazy, cleaning our whole house once a month! We’ve struck a balance. Housework may be a necessary evil, but it doesn’t have to be done on anybody’s terms but your own.

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Resources

Ehrenreich, Barbara. Nickel and Dimed: On (Not) Getting By in America.
Metropolitan Books: New York, 2001.

Kant, Immanuel. Foundations of the Metaphysics of Morals. 1785. Indianapolis;
Bobbs-Merril Co., 1976. 31.



Amy Vaughn



Copyright © 2007 Amy Vaughn.


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