It’s 4pm and as far as I can tell, everyone in the building has been raptured. The factory floor, that only an hour ago was alive with the noise, is deathly silent. As I wander from deserted office to deserted office, I wonder if I’ve missed something; perhaps there was some event on that I don’t know about, maybe one of those fabled town hall meetings that everyone mentions. I check my phone for missed emails or calls, some indication that I’m not the only person left on the planet. There are none.  Finally, I open an office door and see someone sitting at a desk.

“Excuse me…” I begin “do you know where everyone is?”

“They’ve all gone home” the person replies, not bothering to look up from their computer screen.

“Oh…what do you mean they’ve gone home, it’s only 4?”

The person lifts their head. They wear a look I’ll see many times over the next nine years, it’s a look Germans have perfected, one of stern confusion.

“Exactly, it’s 4pm, they’ve all finished. I’m only here because I have a call with the USA”.

This was my first experience of the fabled German work/life balance. After almost a decade of living here, I have come to appreciate its rigid certainty. I don’t wish to generalise, but in every location I’ve worked since arriving, the majority of people leave at 4pm on the dot, if not before. Those that remain in the office past this magic hour, often do so because of extenuating circumstances. For a country famous for its productivity, how is it that everyone seems to leave work early? The answer is, of course, they don’t. One of the hardest things I’ve had to do since moving to Germany has been adjusting my British 9-5 mentality to a German 6-2 or 7-3 work schedule. Especially when it comes to manufacturing, things start early and finish early in Germany.

This difference in work hours has some interesting side-effects, for instance, rush hour starts earlier. It seems deranged to me to be stuck in heavy traffic at 6am, although that is significantly more enjoyable than the 6am human crush on public transport. The hour difference might seem negligible, but it certainly feels weird to me. Another difference is that many of my colleagues take lunch at exactly 11.30. Woe betide any fool who attempts to schedule a meeting for 11am, unless of course they take great pleasure in receiving meeting cancellations or exacerbated requests to reschedule for a more convenient time. For a lot of my colleagues and friends lunchtime is an immovable daily milestone, often involving a trip to an onsite canteen. Almost no one eats their lunch at their desks.

Obviously, leaving work at 4pm and not working after 4pm are not always the same thing. Working from home has become more and more common and with companies investing in work-stations for employees homes, it is certainly possible that work will still continue after leaving the office. Despite this, I have met many people who refuse point blank to work more than the time they are contracted to, and I know managers who actively discourage their employees from answering emails or doing paperwork in their free time. In addition, unions still have a significant say in certain sectors, especially industry, with the result that not answering an email from the boss outside working hours is unlikely to receive a severe reprimand.

Balancing work and life is made easier by the seemingly inherent German ability to compartmentalise their work lives and their private lives. The distinct gap between the two might make small talk about a colleague’s weekend cagey and uncomfortable, but what it ensures is a healthy mental distance between down time and the daily grind. Down time is down time and employees are actually expected to not work during their holidays, unlike in the UK where the concept of Leavism (working on holiday) is becoming more common.

The separation of work and private life is certainly more secure here, but it is by no means perfect. Germany still lags the Netherlands, Denmark and France when it comes to length of hours worked and not every industry respects their employees right to free time. Many jobs have hidden hours that many do not consider, such as the numerous extra hours worked by teachers through weekends and school holidays. Gender can also play a part. There is still a general expectation that the responsibility of raising children will fall more heavily on the shoulders of women than men. Work-life balance should be something that can achieved by both men and women, rather than the common expectations that men do the work part and woman do the life part. Few companies offer truly flexible working hours, that don’t come at the cost of furthering a person’s career.

In addition, the globalised nature of many businesses means the traditional German work day is changing. Projects are not necessarily region specific. A decade ago a meeting with the USA or China might have been weekly or bi-monthly, but now it could be daily event. Global companies also hire internationally, which results in offices made up of many different nationalities. This cocktail of various work cultures also has an impact on the working day. The British and American expectation that long hours mean hard work can leave some German employees feeling they need to stay late in order to be recognised by their management. Studies show that longer hours rarely mean higher productivity, but when faced with colleagues who work on regardless of the time, the pressure to follow the trend can be overwhelming.

Germans are not impervious to the pressures of work and by no means has Germany found a definitive answer to the fine balance of work and private life. Yet, a culture of mental compartmentalisation, as well as a more enlightened perspectives on work expectations, can help German workers deal with the increasing demands of the working day. I may never get used to the 6AM rush hour or the kamikaze dash to get home, but these are small costs to pay to be able confidently turn off my phone and close my laptop at the end of the day.