France’s trading saints for cents by John Kato

 

In a move that has raised both eyebrows and blood pressure, France’s Prime Minister has unveiled a plan to scrap two public holidays in a bid to tackle the national debt and boost productivity. The rationale? More workdays mean more output, and more output means a healthier economy. Simple math, right? Except economics and people rarely play by such basic equations.

Let’s call this what it is: an amateurish, almost cartoonish attempt at fiscal reform dressed in the clothes of seriousness. It reeks of desperation, not strategy. Tinkering with the calendar is hardly a substitute for addressing the deeper structural issues that weigh on the French economy: sluggish innovation, bloated bureaucracy, rigid labour markets, and dare we say it, an economic culture that has long equated burnout with virtue and rest with guilt.

France already has a reputation for working fewer hours than many of its OECD peers, yet its productivity per hour worked is among the highest in the world. That’s not an accident. It’s a result of a working culture that despite its flaws, respects the idea that rested, healthy citizens make for better workers. The two days the Prime Minister wants to axe are not days of laziness but of recovery, reflection, and, yes, national identity.

You can’t measure national cohesion in GDP. You can’t balance the budget by draining morale.

In a country where mental health struggles, workplace fatigue, and declining work-life balance are already concerns, this move feels tone-deaf at best and dangerously regressive at worst. Productivity doesn’t come from the clock; it comes from motivation, engagement, and systemic support. Cutting public holidays is a shortcut, the economic equivalent of skipping sleep to be more “productive” a trick that backfires the moment the exhaustion sets in.

And let’s not forget the cultural erosion. Public holidays in France are steeped in tradition, some religious, some secular, but all part of the national fabric. They’re not just days off; they’re moments of collective pause. Abandoning them for a few drops of extra GDP is like selling family heirlooms to pay the electric bill. Technically effective? Maybe. Spiritually bankrupt? Absolutely.

Moreover, the economic benefit is dubious. Studies show that the marginal gain from eliminating public holidays is minimal, especially when offset by burnout, increased sick leave, and lowered morale. One has to wonder if the Prime Minister’s advisors have confused cause with correlation. More workdays do not necessarily lead to more work. Sometimes they just lead to more wasted hours and more exhausted workers.

There’s also a deeper irony here. At a time when countries around the world are exploring four-day workweeks and placing greater value on leisure as a productivity booster, France is contemplating the opposite: clawing back precious downtime as if the 19th century has come knocking again. It's a solution that feels entirely out of step with modern economics and completely divorced from lived reality.

If this is France’s bold new vision, it’s a vision without imagination. Tackling national debt requires thoughtful tax reform, intelligent spending cuts, strategic investment in innovation, and a serious conversation about automation, pensions, and aging demographics. It does not require picking the pockets of national tradition and pretending it’s fiscal bravery.

France doesn’t need fewer public holidays. It needs better leadership. Leadership that understands that productivity is not a function of pressure, but of purpose. Leadership that realizes that in a nation proud of its cultural heritage, people will resist any move that equates economic health with personal sacrifice.

Let the people rest. Let the saints stay. And let the Prime Minister go back to the drawing board, with a little more humility and a lot more economic sense.