Abstract
In the opening months of the COVID-19 pandemic in the U.S., thousands of volunteer makers stepped up to produce PPE through third sphere labor, volunteer work that emphasizes community maintenance. Drawing on 78 semi-structured interviews and 662 open-ended questionnaires, we consider how third sphere carework could destabilize hierarchies between public, private, and third sphere labor and in the valuation of feminized versus masculinized work. We find women and men makers differed in what they made, but not in their motivations for producing PPE or how they valued the work of other makers. Makers rejected the idea that they should perform such work without any appreciation from third sphere recipients, but private sphere demands limited women makers more than men. Throughout men makers’ efforts, we find ample evidence of caring masculinities as a response to disaster. We conclude with a consideration of what these trends mean for redoing gender and third sphere carework.
In March 2020, the COVID-19 pandemic swept across the globe, ushering in countless social and economic crises. Among them was the lack of personal protective equipment (PPE) for essential workers and lay people (Bhaska et al. 2020). Decades of cuts to healthcare infrastructure left governments unable to respond effectively (Maani and Galea 2020), and the U.S. federal stockpile of PPE had not been replenished following the 2009 swine flu epidemic (Kavanagh et al. 2020). Massive shutdowns and supply chain disruptions meant the U.S. federal government’s neoliberal strategy of passing off responsibility for society’s needs to the private market also failed (Leap, Kelly, and Stalp 2022a; Leap, Stalp, and Kelly 2022b). Americans were left to their own devices amid conflicting information from state and federal agencies. In this paper, we argue that volunteer PPE makers responded in gendered ways to the pandemic and document evidence of caring masculinities and redoing gender within the third-sphere of community labor, or volunteer work that emphasizes community maintenance.
Makers around the world created homemade masks, ear guards, face shields, and hand sanitizer. They distributed this PPE to friends, family, hospitals, and their local communities (Leap, Kelly, and Stalp 2022a; Leap, Stalp, and Kelly 2022b; Hahn and Bhaduri 2021; Hong 2021; Martindale, Armstead, and McKinney 2021; Schnittka 2021; Stalp, Leap, and Kelly 2023). Maker efforts proliferated via social media networks, matching PPE supply and demand (Leap, Kelly, and Stalp 2022a; Leap, Stalp, and Kelly 2022b; Martindale, Armstead, and McKinney 2021). Networks ranged in size and scope from predominantly local efforts to nationwide organizations such as the Auntie Sewing Squad, which distributed hundreds of thousands of masks to populations disproportionately affected by the pandemic (Hong 2021).
Makers dug into their personal fabric stashes, donating time and materials of substantial value. After several months, private corporations were able to slowly start filling the needs by purchasing manufactured PPE, and many makers were able to reduce the time spent making PPE. Prior to that point, makers worked up to 18 h a day sewing and printing, sacrificing family and work time (and their emotional and physical well-being) as they doggedly worked to keep up with the need (Leap, Kelly, and Stalp 2022a; Leap, Stalp, and Kelly 2022b).
This intensive form of volunteer community work is what Milroy and Wismer (1994) term the “third-sphere,” community carework work that is public, unpaid, and necessary for social reproduction (especially in neoliberal settings). In contrast, private/domestic-sphere work is private and unpaid, and public/market-sphere work is public and paid. The idea of the “third shift” (Gerstel 2000; Morgan and Winkler 2020) draws attention to labor associated with the third-sphere and plays on the idea of the second shift of unpaid labor at home. The concept is inherently political, as third-sphere work (like second shift work) is typically done by women and not necessarily understood as work. Fraser (2016) refers to this as a “crisis of care” wherein carework is taken-for-granted and those who perform it are invisible. Societies fail to invest resources in care, furthering strain among those who perform this work and inequities between those whose labor is visible and valued and those who provide care. Makers’ efforts to mitigate the disaster of the COVID-19 pandemic represent a unique form of third-sphere work that offers the potential to challenge gender hierarchies based upon public/private divides as more men joined in third-sphere efforts, bringing their higher gender statuses and more valued labor into a typically undervalued sphere and sharing responsibility for carework that has traditionally been assigned to women.
We draw upon 662 qualitative questionnaires and 78 semi-structured interviews with volunteer PPE makers in the United States to consider how community carework may ‘redo gender’ (West and Zimmerman 2009). We collected data during an ongoing disaster, capturing unique accounts of respondents’ experiences (Averett 2021), as opposed to retrospective accounts. PPE-making was different from other forms of third-sphere work in two key ways. First, the degree to which this work was public, visible, and recognized is unusual, complicating the gender hierarchies surrounding notions of spheres. Second, because many men participated in volunteer PPE-making (Leap, Kelly, and Stalp 2022a; Leap, Stalp, and Kelly 2022b; Hahn and Bhaduri 2021), making offers evidence of a (further) shift to caring masculinities (Elliott 2016) as a socially validated masculinity emphasizing a sense of responsibility for performing carework. While caring masculinities have often been associated with the private-sphere (Lee and Lee 2018), men makers’ carework was on full public display, decentering the notion that carework and community work are the solely the responsibility of women. Combined with the potential for social change that frequently follows disasters and social upheaval (Leap 2018), these two forces partially transform the third-sphere into something that is less gendered, or at least less gender unequal within specific constraints.
The relative recency of the pandemic means we cannot yet know all of the short/long term social, cultural, and economic effects, but there are choices to be made moving forward, including in how we (re)value women’s work relative to men’s, and community work vis-à-vis paid labor: “Capitalizing on the cultural momentum toward gender equality should be a focus of COVID-19 recovery, and a fundamental focus of policy reform should be redistributing the division of paid and unpaid labor, particularly in relation to caring” (King and Elliott 2021, 874 emphasis added). The pandemic has the potential to expose the extent of women’s private and third-sphere labor, encourage the growth of men’s third-sphere labor and caring masculinities, and push society to value that work accordingly.
The Third-Sphere of Community Carework
Scholars have long divided the world of work into two spheres: public (paid market work outside the home) and private (unpaid domestic work inside the home). More recent work considers a conceptually separate third-sphere (or shift) of community work, which is unpaid work outside the home for the maintenance and reproduction of the community or society (Gerstel 2000; Larner and Craig 2005; Milroy and Wismer 1994; Roelvnik and Craig 2005). The community sphere provides carework for others outside one’s own home or family, including friends, acquaintances, neighbors, and complete strangers the maker may have no personal connection to. Such work is voluntary and not necessarily formally organized but nonetheless critical to social reproduction and community solidarity (Gerstel 2000). Community work focuses on a range of needs, from cultural events to materials needs (e.g., PPE) and may/not be focused on political gain or social change. It is, however, always strategically and purposefully concerned with the maintenance of a community (Gerstel 2000; Milroy and Wismer 1994; Morgan and Winkler 2020).
The third-sphere was originally conceptualized to address the gaps in the public/private divide when analyzing the scope and significance of women’s work. Public and private are presumed to be perfect opposites – each is defined in opposition to the other, by what the other is not. Each sphere is assumed to be stable, yet what is considered public or private work (e.g. caring for the elderly) changes over time, moving from one sphere to the other (Midgely 2006), or into the community sphere, where it would disappear under the two-sphere model and erases important forms of work (Enarson and Pease 2016; Milroy and Wismer 1994).
Women are associated with the private-sphere, subordinated to the public-sphere by patriarchal and racialized norms valuing (white) men and their (paid) work more than the work of BIPOC and women. Women’s community work is rendered invisible and certainly devalued when only the two spheres are considered, despite having substantial influence in both the public and private-spheres (Daniels 1987; Enarson and Pease 2016; Gerstel 2000; Milroy and Wismer 1994). Sociologist Jessica Calarco and colleagues summarized the gendered nature of the third-sphere when they noted “Other countries have social safety nets. The U.S. has women. Women in the U.S. have long done a disproportionate share of the unpaid service work in institutions and at home” (Petersen 2020).
One version of third-sphere labor involves disaster response initiatives, typically a highly gendered form of carework (Leap 2018; Enarson and Pease 2016). Households and communities regularly “feminize the responsibility to care” during disasters (Bradshaw 2015:69) exacerbating women’s “triple burden” of labor (McLaren et al. 2020; Moser 1993). Disasters disrupt taken-for-granted practices and those affected must renegotiate their lives in ways that may potentially transform the gendered inequities of labor. Disaster work may conflict with private and public-sphere duties, but it may also open new opportunities for leadership, visibility, social cohesion, and fostering confidence and self-efficacy (Fothergill 1999).
Milroy and Wismer argue the third-sphere “could undo the core logic of the dichotomy of public and private-spheres” (1994, 84). Such changes could reduce or eliminate gender hierarchies, as progress occurs when care is not something only women do, or something predominantly associated with women. These changes are akin to ‘redoing gender,’ wherein the gender binary may be weakened by expanding and altering gender norms and making the accountability structures of gender less rigid, which in turn lessens gender inequality (West and Zimmerman 2009).
However, disasters do not always result in redoing gender (Leap, Stalp, and Kelly 2022c). Performing gendered disaster carework may empower specific individuals and amplify social solidarity while reinforcing gender roles and norms (Leap 2018). Notably, the increase in third-sphere labor corresponded with increased demands in the private-sphere and upheaval in the public-sphere – at least for women. Men started doing more childcare and housework during the pandemic but not to the extent women did and framed their contributions as ‘helping out’ or just something to burn time while they were stuck at home (Carolan 2021; Collins et al. 2021). Worldwide, women reduced their paid work hours and exited the labor force in numbers dramatically disproportionate to those of men as mothers sought to manage childcare during school and childcare center closings (Leap, Kelly, and Stalp 2022a; Collins et al. 2021; Goldstein et al. 2022; Landivar et al. 2020; Stefanović 2023). More limited change that preserves existing hierarchies is what Siegel (1996) refers to as “preservation through transformation;” the system and practices of inequality appear to change substantially but leave men in the higher status position.
Caring Masculinities
Caring masculinities refer to “masculine identities that reject domination and its associated traits and embrace values of care such as positive emotion, interdependence, and relationality.” (Elliott 2016, 240). In other words, caring masculinities integrate traits and values typically associated with women and thus may redo gender by more equally allocating carework (Elliott 2016; Hanlon 2012; West and Zimmerman 2009). By performing carework, usually within the home as fathers and family members, men bring their higher gender status to the work, elevating its perceived value. Drawing upon feminist care theory, carework has the potential to transform men, and therefore lessen gender inequality (Elliott 2016). Men who perform carework on a regular basis, such as stay-at-home fathers, express increased respect and appreciation for the demands and value of carework, as well as the interdependence between receiving and performing care. They resist traditional formulations of masculinity that stress independence, stoicism, and resist critiques of their own caring masculinities (Coltrane 1996; Hanlon 2012; Lee and Lee 2018).
Importantly, such transformations do not require the elimination of difference, only of hierarchy. Men and women may act in different ways within carework, but neither necessarily must be more valued or powerful than the other–both were important to the efforts to slow the spread of COVID-19 (Leap, Kelly, and Stalp 2022a; Leap, Stalp, and Kelly 2022b; Stalp 2020). Rejecting masculinities that are dependent upon dominating women and exercising privilege to avoid carework is a necessary precondition for gender equality. By incorporating care into masculine identities, there is a redistribution of responsibility between men and women. It is no longer the norm to expect women to provide most or all care, or the attendant sacrifices of time, energy, career, or leisure to do so. Instead, nurturing becomes the norm for both men and women. Redistributing responsibility for care by involving men and redoing gender therefore will redistribute other valuable resources politically, culturally, and economically in ways that are critical to achieving gender equality (Connell 2003; West and Zimmerman 2009).
The potential for caring masculinities to upend gender hierarchies is necessarily contingent upon the specific content of those masculinities (Bonner-Thompson and Nayak 2021). Gender itself can be done and redone at the same time, that is, simultaneously challenged and reified (West and Zimmerman 1987, 2009). Scheibling (2020, 8, 14) argues that gender is “redone rather than done or undone” meaning “resistance and compliance are combined in complex ways.” Defining care as a part of masculine identities may incorporate care in ways that maintain a privileged place for men, claiming that there is something unique about men’s care that women are not capable of providing, as in the case of the fathers’ rights movement or the Promise Keepers (Heath 2003). Such hybrid masculinities allow men to embrace aspects of femininities and marginalized masculinities while still maintaining gender hierarchies that serve to benefit white, heterosexual men (Bridges and Pascoe 2014; Pfaffendorf 2017). In other cases, men may incorporate forms of care that are typically associated with women as worthier than traditional forms of masculinity, challenging hegemonic masculinities in themselves and others, as in the case of stay-at-home dads. Other formulations may require men to actively fight sexism and other forms of inequality, to use one’s privilege on behalf of society as well as significant others (Scheibling 2020).
Overall, the new social relations of care wrought by the pandemic offer the opportunity to examine the unique place of maker carework simultaneously inside and outside the home as well as the role of caring masculinities in third-sphere work. Doing so extends the spheres literature by incorporating masculinities that destabilize gender hierarchies within the spheres. Further, we expand upon the caring masculinities literature beyond the topics of fatherhood and the family within the private-sphere. Specifically, we ask three core research questions; How did gender shape maker’s actions, motivations, and experiences with making? How do caring masculinities shape gender and gender hierarchies? And what can we take away from the phenomena of men makers in the third-sphere?
Data and Methods
Data include 662 self-administered online questionnaires and 78 semi-structured phone interviews with U.S. adults in 47 states between July 2020 and January 2021. Questionnaires included 116 open- and closed-ended questions and were administered though Qualtrics. Both instruments asked respondents for background information as well as experiences with and motivations for making PPE. We asked makers how they became involved in making PPE, who they hoped to help, their experiences making that PPE, how they learned the skills they used to make PPE, and what challenges they encountered making PPE as well as and more general questions about the pandemic, such as how they perceived local, state, and federal responses.
In recruiting posts and emails, we offered respondents both the link to the questionnaire and our email addresses for those who preferred interviews. Completion time for questionnaires and interviews averaged 33 and 53 min, respectively. Including both questionnaires and interviews expanded our sample size by allowing makers (many of whom were actively working long hours to produce PPE and had limited time) to participate in whichever form best suited their needs. Responses were similar in content across both, but interviews generally produced more detailed answers. These data are unique because they were collected during an ongoing disaster, as opposed to retrospective accounts, demonstrating a sense of urgency and intensity felt by makers in the moment. Like Averett (2021), we found interview respondents eager to talk about their experiences and have others “bear witness” (2021, 321) to their struggles and triumphs. Makers reported producing between 2 and 250,000 PPE units.
Respondents were predominantly women (88.46% and 95.05%) and white (79.49% and 90.48%) among both questionnaire and interview respondents, respectively. We also asked for education and income among questionnaire respondents, who were overall well-educated (74.31% with a bachelor’s degree or higher), and most (64.2%) had family incomes of $75,000 or higher; 40.94% had incomes over $100,000. This overrepresentation of privileged statuses is similar to other studies of participants in the Global North during the pandemic (Averett 2021; Craig and Churchill 2021; Friedman et al. 2021). This is also likely a function of our own social networks and the professional, personal, and virtual networks we used to recruit respondents. We found social media platforms (e.g., Facebook, Instagram, and Reddit) useful, as makers turned to social media to mobilize PPE production efforts (Martindale, Armstead, and McKinney 2021).
Existing U.S. hierarchies help explain our sample demographics, as sewing and 3D printing (especially in mass quantities) involve expensive equipment that create socioeconomic barriers to participation. Gendered and racialized dynamics of U.S. volunteerism mean that white women and retired adults are more likely to volunteer, and to have their efforts recognized relative to women of color (Pham 2020; Schnittka 2021). We deliberately reached out to maker groups comprised primarily of people of color to try to further diversify our sample with some limited success; competing studies being conducted at the same time may have affected our ability to recruit these respondents successfully (e.g., Hong 2021; Martindale, Armstead, and McKinney 2021; Schnittka 2021). While the work done by marginalized groups is often rendered invisible, in this case several maker networks led by women of color were quite prominent in the media and in demand for interviews and research studies (e.g., Hong 2021). Interview respondents are referred to by pseudonyms, while questionnaire respondents are referred to more generally by gender and age.
Demographic Composition of Interview and Questionnaire Respondents.
aAge was structured as an ordinal variable on questionnaires and an interval variable during interviews.
bRace was a choose all that apply item on questionnaires and an open question in interviews.
cEducational attainment data was only obtained from questionnaire respondents.
dRespondents’ state of residence were recoded according to U.S. Census Bureau (2021) regional designations.
Findings
Entering the Third-Sphere: Gendered Efforts and Shared Motivations
PPE-making during the early months of the pandemic reflected existing gendered patterns of labor. Women and men generally drew on different skill sets when entering the third-sphere, and both groups overwhelmingly were already proficient with their maker skill (sewing, 3D printing, etc.). Most women sewed masks, commonly learning sewing skills from family members or the internet. In contrast, most men used 3D printing to produce ear savers and face shield components like headbands and screens. Men reported learning their skills from the internet, in conjunction with a community maker space, and/or at work. Women reported drawing from their personal ‘stash’ of fabric to make masks (Stalp 2006), while men reported spending significant sums of money to acquire additional printers and filament. Among questionnaire respondents, 48% of women and 73% of men spent $100 or more on PPE materials, and 22% of women and 52% of men reported spending $350 or more. Thus, we see women drawing more upon on private-sphere skills and resources while men were more likely to draw upon public-sphere knowledge and materials.
We found other gendered differences in the experience of PPE-making. Both groups relied on modern technology but did so along gendered lines. Women mostly used household tools like scissors and tape measures, as well as the more complicated sewing machine. Men relied on 3D printers, suggesting what could be taken as a non-technical/technical divide, but only if one ignores the skill required to operate a sewing machine. Further, sewing is more intensive labor, requiring continuous hands-on work, while there are frequent pauses in 3D printing. Women were also more likely to have been active volunteers before the pandemic than men (87% versus 64% among questionnaire respondents) but men were more likely to report that their PPE-making efforts led to new interpersonal relationships (62% versus 41%). This is likely because women reported either using their existing networks such as quilters guilds or starting their own organizations to mobilize PPE-making and match makers to individuals and organizations in need. Women were already more embedded in relevant networks and relationships when the pandemic struck. Men’s efforts may have resulted in new opportunities to connect within maker communities. As one man questionnaire respondent described his new maker network, “…it gave me a personal sense of purpose/usefulness to be able to use my knowledge, skills and on-hand equipment—in concert with a larger team of concerned and dedicated co-workers—to be able to provide some degree of meaningful assistance.”
Where makers did not differ was in their motivations for taking on unpaid and often grueling third-sphere labor. Both women and men blamed the federal government and private businesses’ inability to respond adequately to the COVID-19 pandemic or to keep citizens safe. Makers repeatedly critiqued leaders in the federal and state governments, saying things like, “Knock off the arguing and undermining of science and doctors recommendations. Band together and form a united message. Stop fighting and focus on helping” and “This country is woefully unprepared for pretty much any adversity, since we don’t manufacture anything here but racism and diabetes” (man questionnaire respondent). Suzanne (67, white woman), expressed her dismay with the federal response, saying, “Except for Fauci they are all absolutely incompetent and ignorant and antagonistic towards science.” Deborah (55, Arab American woman) tied the national response directly to her PPE-making efforts: “I got so fucking angry when Jared Kushner said the national PPE storehouse was his. That day I got out a sewing machine I haven’t touched in like 3 years and started watching YouTube videos on how to make the best, most effective fabric masks.”
Makers were often matter-of-fact about their initial involvement: “You see suffering, you have to help” (man questionnaire respondent). Others like Rebecca (62, white woman) expressed a sense of urgency: “I need to make as many of these to save as many people’s lives as possible, and my perspective is, how do we get enough of these made?” Other makers like Colleen (59, white woman), were driven by concern for those most vulnerable: “I was actually very concerned about people who were homeless people who had medical needs…living with chronic serious health conditions…and very low-income people who were going to food banks, because if they're food insecure, they're not going to even have the extra money to buy a mask.”
Makers identified a community ethos driving their third-sphere labor. Ann (46, white woman) told us “…we dug deep into our own resources, you know, personally, or community wise, in order to rise up and meet the needs that were not fulfilled by the government... our community came together to lean on each other, to help each other, and to protect each other” (Ann, 46, Asian woman). Rebecca refused to draw divisions between political parties or any other social divides and objected strongly to anyone being left out of the protections needed during the pandemic:
Rebecca, 62, White
Makers’ degree of concern and care drove them to produce PPE, with some makers working up to 18 or more hours per day and sacrificing leisure time, family obligations, and in some cases physical health to keep up grueling, self-imposed production schedules.
Makers’ Expectations and the Reciprocation of Care
Like other forms of feminized labor, third-sphere work can go unappreciated (Daniels 1987). Gender norms posit that women will perform selfless labor on behalf of their communities without expecting thanks or even acknowledgement. However, makers in our study explicitly noted the appreciation of others and how it allowed them to maintain their efforts, often on arduous schedules. Makers pointed to support and appreciation from their families, who often helped out with making PPE or performed more work around the house: “My spouse is extremely supportive and proud of my work. There have been no issues concerning the financial outlay or the mess I make of our living room when all my sewing stuff is out. He offers to prepare meals, and does more than his fair share of housekeeping, laundry, shopping, etc.” (woman questionnaire respondent). Rather than fitting her sewing around the needs of the family, her husband adjusted his own activities to accommodate what he perceived to be valuable and important community work.
Others focused on expressions of appreciation from the larger community. One man questionnaire respondent noted, “So rewarding to see others gratitude. Also, a really neat learning experience.” Colleen (59, white woman) commented: I think that it's nice for recognition to be given to quilters…a lot of them are older women [and] …some people have pains in their arms and pains in their legs, and, and they're still sitting there making masks to help their community, and I think that is heroic.
Likewise, Sheila (73, white woman) told us “I’m not feeling put upon in any way by anybody…[sewing masks] really gave me a lot of pleasure.” Feeling both needed and appreciated within their local communities may have provided a positive motivation for continuing the demanding, unpaid work while also bolstering makers’ self-esteem and their visibility as helpers.
Interestingly, neither men nor women makers accepted a lack of appreciation or respect, possibly because their keen attention to the progress of the pandemic led them to understand the importance of their efforts. Christopher (44, white man) noted that his group had stopped making masks for a particular hospital because the staff failed to use the donated masks, even after makers followed guidelines to ensure the masks were medical grade. Likewise, a man questionnaire respondent identified his most significant challenge in staying motivated as “Karens. Had several people not like the free handouts and wanting more customized options.” Daniel (33, Hispanic man) noted the reception to homemade face shields was “lackluster” and reminded recipients, “I’m making this in my home as best as I can and providing [them] very inexpensively.” Kathleen (80, white woman) pushed back against those who demanded too much without fully understanding the time, effort and expense involved in PPE-making, critiquing another woman who asked for 500 masks after receiving an initial donation, saying “she basically drove me nuts.” Here we see makers reserving PPE for those who properly appreciated makers’ efforts, and refusing to be pressured into producing PPE for those who did not perceive the true demands on makers.
Private-Sphere Limits on Third-sphere Equity
Even with makers holding firm to their expectations, appreciation for third-sphere work had gendered limits and may be mediated by gender essentialism, particularly in the private-sphere. Because care is understood as a requirement for women and a choice for men, men may often receive more than their share of praise for their efforts when tending to the home or family members (Hanlon 2012), and women are less likely to have the time and space required for making. People organize themselves within specific spaces including the home in ways that reflect existing inequalities (Stalp 2020). Women may be perceived to be neglecting family duties to perform community work, but men are enabled by their families. Some women in our sample reported family members critiquing their efforts because of the time it took away from private-sphere labor for their families, and for the amount of space taken up in the home. One woman questionnaire respondent wrote her husband was “supportive at first but less so as I’ve become more involved and am spending more time and money.” Another woman questionnaire respondent told us. My husband answers this question: ‘…It was frustrating when we realized my family was not utilizing the masks you had made them…it was frustrating because I didn't think it was the best use of your time with an infant also needing you.’
One women questionnaire respondent noted “However frustrated he was, I felt at the time that my husband was very supportive and offered to help in any way he could. He was my trusty elastic cutter! He does not have sewing skills. He has also done many household chores to free me up to sew!” However, the respondent still felt responsible for household labor and appreciated her husband volunteering to ‘help.’
Proportionately more women makers than men reported tension in their homes over their PPE efforts. Another woman questionnaire respondent said that “my husband has been unhappy with fabric and cutting materials all over the dining room table, and fabrics draped across the bed in our guestroom. I have cleaned up all of that for now.” Women also held themselves accountable for the conflict between private-sphere labor and much-needed third-sphere labor, writing things like “I do neglect things around the house and other tasks since I spend so much time on this” and “Everyone likes that I’m making masks for others, but I know my kids miss the time I used to spend with them.”
In contrast, men typically reported feeling supported by their families in the PPE-making efforts, often specifically crediting their wives for taking on a greater share of private-sphere labor, enabling men to spend more time on PPE production. Men did not report family members objecting to the space taken up by 3D printers and other equipment. As one questionnaire respondent told us “My fiancée helped me assemble the 3D printed parts with the transparency film for the face shields. I repurposed a spare bedroom as a 3D printing workshop for PPE to keep things consolidated to one area, though at times there would be overflow and they were patient with that.” Another questionnaire respondent suspected his wife “privately thinks I went a little overboard, but not in a bad way” and “[she] was very supportive.” The wife of one PPE maker noted “Definitely this is my husband’s hobby…Like every 2 hours, I would just go down to take the 3D printer frame off and push start (laughter). Anytime there would be a mishap I would send him pictures, and he would try to let me know, via text or via phone things I could try to do to problem solve” (Taylor, 28, Asian woman). Not only does the respondent not mind the intensity of her husband’s efforts, but she also supports them with her own labor without claiming any of the credit for herself.
Thus, while makers expected and received substantial appreciation and credit from those they helped, private-sphere gender hierarchies dragged down third-sphere progress. Private-sphere and gender essentialist divisions of labor and space constrained many women in ways that did not appear to apply to most men; both men and women regularly performed gender essentialist maker tasks, but only men benefitted from gender essentialist divisions of labor in the private-sphere that supported their third-sphere work. Women (and their families) expected their PPE work to fit around domestic obligations. Yet the presence of both men and women performing third-sphere care holds the potential to transform how gendered labor and the responsibility of care are valued, specifically through the performance of caring masculinities.
Caring Masculinities Among Makers
Caring masculinities are not new (Elliott 2016; Wojnicka 2021). There are already cultural scripts men may draw upon in constructing care as a key part of their identities (Brown et al. 2016; Scheibling 2020). In terms of understanding caring masculinities as an ongoing source of social change, some men in our study were already accustomed to acting on a sense of responsibility to the shared collective. Even prior to the pandemic, many were active community volunteers, using the skills they repurposed into making PPE. Pre-pandemic community work, especially within community-based maker spaces, included teaching children to use various forms of technology like 3D printers; crafting for local Pride parades, drag shows and women’s marches; printing prosthetics for a cat sanctuary; and leading Scout troops. Some men were already embedded in volunteer networks that turned their attention to producing PPE or joined networks once the pandemic started. Many men also saw their efforts as a way to use their privilege to bolster others who were unfairly disadvantaged. A questionnaire respondent told us, “I have means and ability while, particularly queer friends, have had much harder lives and less resources. It’s part of my imperative to ensure that they are protected and supported by myself to the best of my ability.”
While men and women indicated similar motivations for care, how they went about their third-sphere efforts differed, with men emphasizing some traditional aspects of masculinities. Carework may generate feelings of pride and competence (Elliott 2016), and this was most likely to be exhibited by men when discussing the technology they used to produce PPE. Casting care as requiring talents associated with men, such as technology skills, frames it as masculine (Brandth and Kvande 2018: Scheibling 2020). Men frequently focused on the technical mastery of machinery required to 3D print. Responses to questions about the equipment used to produce PPE tended to offer substantial details on the intricacies of machinery and problem-solving. When asked how his work and hobbies shaped his volunteer PPE efforts, Zachary (43, white man) told us: I have a very extensive background in 3D computer graphics…so skill-wise, I understand the software that it uses intimately, the physical processes that it's doing the engineering pieces that are involved in in sort of troubleshooting and fixing the printer that comes into play. And I also worked at a research lab for the government. So, I have a background in science and engineering.
Likewise, Jacob (31, white man) emphasized the rationality and strategy of his efforts: Yeah, like critical thinking skills definitely translate over. It's really a, the ability to just break down an issue like you got X situations here, step A, step B, step C, to kind of handle situation X. They're [systems administration and PPE-making] not the same, but the logic behind it is, is fairly similar.
Put more simply, Matthew (40, white man) told us, “I don’t know that you necessarily had to be an engineer but being an engineer probably helped…I’m snazzy with the CAD.”
Notably, while using a sewing machine (and keeping it running) requires a great deal of technical skills as well, women makers did not cast their efforts in terms of the technological aspects. When asked what tools they used in making efforts, women interview respondents often paused and then listed items like scissors and rotary cutter, often not even mentioning their sewing machines unless explicitly asked. Few men sewed masks and few women turned to 3D printers, thus we see that PPE making-machines are gendered, as are the perceptions of the technical skill needed to operate them. Given the higher status afforded work requiring technological expertise, this gender essentialist division of technology among makers could again work to elevate men’s maker work above that of women, redoing gender as men but reinforce gender hierarchies along technological lines while performing carework. The latter is akin to Siegel’s’ (1996) concept of “preservation through transformation,” where some status hierarchies are weakened (who does carework) but others are reinforced, albeit with different justifications (men retain technological dominance but do so because they care).
Many men had used masculine-typed technologies as part of their paid work, as solo hobbyists, or as volunteers prior to the pandemic. When they leveraged these skills in the third-sphere, they identified this shift with a sense of connection to other people. A questionnaire respondent told us, “I feel that our group is doing this to help our fellow humans. I know that I was only interested in this as a way to keep people safe in a time of need. I’m thrilled that my hobby was put to good use.” Austin (21, white man) explicitly made the connection between his former solo efforts on behalf of his start-up company and the networks he forged during the pandemic: I have a small business …and because of that I have five 3D printers. So, I'm pretty good capacity by myself. But we're just getting so many requests coming in that it was really hard for me to keep up. So, it's really nice to be able to get more people in there and just kind of share the load…without those other people we wouldn't have anywhere near the capacity that we had…Yeah, it was really incredible.
In addition to using public-sphere skills, some men indicated their third-sphere work was tied to private-sphere roles. A questionnaire respondent prioritized family in his maker efforts, “While I’m sure making masks benefits doctors and nurses working on the frontlines, I am really concerned about the health of my grandparents and hope that by distributing masks to them I can lessen their risk factor.” Jacob (31, white man) told us: I want to be on the right side of the pandemic, I want to be one of the guys that said, ‘Hey, I helped with this.’ And I also want to be a good role model for my own kids. I have three kids that are all three and under…I can actually tell them, I made PPE, I helped hospitals, I helped to try to make sure that doctors can keep working…
The respondent connects 3D printing skills with his desire to be a good father in the private-sphere, connecting the public and private-spheres in his third-sphere carework. Jacob explained: I want [my kids] to look at somebody, it doesn't matter what their race, their gender, sexuality, whatever. I want them to be able to say, “Hey, I can be somebody that you can lean on if you need help”… I want them to be people that that can be trusted with secrets and issues that they can help with, and I want them to be able to have the skill set to handle those issues…
In this way, a father models caring masculinity and a community-oriented ethic of care through his maker efforts.
Men (and women) saw the value of their work on par with those of other makers, perceiving their efforts as part of a cohesive whole, emphasizing connections to others. Men questionnaire respondents commented upon this sense of relationalism particularly with regards to frontline workers, saying their motivations were to “Protect [frontline workers] as much as [makers] can” and “know someone is looking out for them and cares” and “providing physical safety to keep them working in the time they’re needed most. Also, to provide an emotional item of support to make them feel safer, some nurses told us the mental effect of the shield helped them do their jobs effectively.” A third questionnaire respondent emphasized his desire to “Reduce their chances of getting hurt or killed. Just let them know they aren’t alone. Maybe that lets them fight this crap a little harder. Maybe that snowballs into someone else fighting harder.” Here we see men makers building a foundation of care via material aid empowering frontline workers, demonstrating a sense of interdependence with these workers.
Central to redoing gender hierarchies in third-sphere and disaster recovery labor more broadly is the sense of responsibility men feel. They are not just ‘helping out,’ as they explicitly note a sense of interdependence, responsibility, and obligation to community and the larger society (which feels like a community in times of crisis). One questionnaire taker told us he experienced: A sense that we are all in this together. That you help yourself by helping others. That the smallest efforts add up in the collective. That this was not a side job or something I wanted to make money off of, but an act of kindness and charity.
Thomas (60, white man) had perhaps the most eloquent expression of shared responsibility and interdependence: …age has taught me helping others, embodying a community-focused ethos, are their own rewards. I learned long ago that hurt people hurt people. There is so much pain in this world that it seems like we are doomed to hurt each other and our surroundings forever. But then I learned another important life lesson: helped people help people. And that, ultimately, is why I do it. Every kindness, every chance to help, is a pebble tossed in a pond, small by itself to the point of inconsequential, but its ripples spread out, meeting other ripples, building up until they become a wave.
Caring for others can lead to changes in what men prioritize (Elliott 2016). One questionnaire respondent, in response to a question asking him why he initially started volunteering commented, “Resume-building at first, but after a while it began to seem nonsensical to not help others.” Women have historically been tasked with the unpaid labor in the third-sphere without much choice. That men, whose status allows them to avoid such labor and ignore, take-for-granted, and even take advantage of the labor of others, would assume that they belonged in such efforts speaks to important progressive changes in masculinities and the increasing prevalence of caring masculinities.
The pandemic intensified this sense of responsibility. Many respondents had been active volunteers prior to the pandemic, but the long hours, financial costs, physical exhaustion, and sacrifices made by men (and women) makers in this sample went far beyond pre-pandemic third-sphere labor and demonstrates the extent to which our respondents adhered to caring masculinities and their attendant practices in a time of crisis. This degree of commitment suggests these caring masculinities can became a core part of some men’s identities, eschewing other, more detached, hierarchical masculinities.
Makers juxtaposed their efforts with the failures of a hegemonic public-sphere masculinity, with then-U.S. President Trump serving as a foil to express their disapproval of his “dominating masculinity” (Messerschmidt 2021). Men (and women) makers routinely critiqued Trump’s decisions and actions, with questionnaire respondents referring to him as “vile” and “a total heartless moron.” One man respondent commented “our federal government is led by an ineffectual moron who was more interested in political rallies and personal vendettas [than addressing the pandemic].” Makers were incensed not only by the lack of preparation on the part of the federal government, but also by what they perceived as a callous, uncaring response to widespread fear and suffering across the nation. In short, brash risk-taking in the name of the economy was not acceptable; men makers across the board expected leaders to provide affective care and effective action.
Discussion and Conclusion
West and Zimmerman (2009) argue gender is redone rather than done or undone, meaning gender may change and become less rigid but continues to have social significance and shape hierarchies. Men and women makers in this study differed in what they were doing in terms of making PPE and how this may have conflicted with gendered private-sphere duties. But importantly, what men and women makers had in common was the community of care, the why they were making PPE for others in the midst of a global disaster was consistent, regardless of gender. Through this research, we see both public and private-sphere skill sets coming together in practice through PPE production, and that these evolving connections offered opportunities to (re)do gender in uneven ways. While women typically brought in private-sphere skills and men brought in more public-sphere skills, neither was necessarily more valued than the other. PPE production through a community of care lens provides examples of the redoing of gender, as media reports highlighted women makers acting in heroic ways (Hong 2021; Lelyveld 2021), and men makers’ sense of community responsibility looking more like that of women.
However, gender essentialism in the private-sphere limited women’s ability to redo gender as their third and private-sphere roles clashed, and women did not have to adopt new ways of doing femininities in their pandemic work. In contrast, men makers could redo gender to a greater degree, as they embraced third-sphere caring masculinities in an extreme climate of crisis. This redoing, however, was bolstered by the same gender essentialism in the private-sphere that constrained women makers and privileged men makers’ work, as men’s abilities to embrace caring in the third sphere was often linked to their heterosexual partners private-sphere carework.
What then, can we take away from the case of men makers in the third-sphere in the larger context of the pandemic and redoing gender to mirror how women care/d for others? As striking as men’s participation and the evidence of caring masculinities in the third-sphere PPE-making may be, it also speaks to the uneven spread of caring masculinities across the other spheres. During the worst of the pandemic, women continued to do the most private-sphere work and experienced intensive upheaval in the public-sphere as they tried to balance their care obligations (e.g., homeschooling) without equal contributions from men partners (Carolan 2021; Collins et al. 2021; Landivar et al. 2020). This tracks with the differential way men and women makers were appreciated (or not) for their efforts at home. Further, gender-segregated technologies may reinforce hierarchies as men retained dominance over and repeatedly emphasized their proficiencies in using status-laden technology.
Caring masculinities often rely on certain forms of colonized and/or feminized labor (Prattes 2022), as in the case of men makers whose wives took on more private-sphere work to enable men to produce PPE. Further, only the more privileged of men, such as the respondents in our sample, may be recognized for their caring masculinities, often leaving class or race privilege intact and erasing the carework of marginalized men (Roberts and Elliott 2020). This also means there are far fewer men involved in carework than woman. Real change will happen slowly by any measure, including equal participation and recognition. Progress towards redoing gender in ways that lessens inequality is uneven albeit meaningful. Nevertheless, progress towards redoing gender in ways that lessens inequality is meaningful even when it is uneven. To account for these complexities, we must continue exploring how gendered work across the private, public, and third-spheres are linked in practice. Only then can we account for the ambivalent ways that gender and gendered inequalities are redone through work (Leap, Kelly, and Stalp 2023). Whether the ongoing upheavals of the COVID-19 pandemic ultimately redo or reinforce gender inequality remains to be seen.
Footnotes
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
