"Just after midnight - so tired, so hassled, so worried. Endless Cabinet and estimates, tensions, bewilderment, Department not backing me up, meetings, Arklow, Wicklow and Bray, pressures and never at home, worrying about the children, worrying about never seeing Derry [husband]. What's the point in having a nice home if you are never there to enjoy it?"

That's just one of the many entries of frustration in the Cabinet diaries of Gemma Hussey, minister for education during the 1980s. Nearly 20 years on, political life has become even less family-friendly, with endless meetings, greater stress and growing public scepticism.

Despite this, Ivan Yates's political retirement was greeted with astonishment last week. Would a successful 41-year-old politician really give it all up to have more time for his family and business? Interviewing the Fine Gael front-bencher on RTE radio last week, an incredulous Sean O'Rourke tried to find the ulterior motive. Did he have doubts about making a good taoiseach? Would he stage a comeback? Yates's answer was simple.

"For the last two years, I've been trying to signal to people that I just cannot continue to juggle four young children, a family business that employs almost 50 people, opening our 12th betting shop, a huge constituency workload and a frontbench position," he said.

Social and organisational psychologist Prof Eunice McCarthy believes Yates will become a role model for people seeking a better balance between work and family life. "He was seen as a future taoiseach, so for him to give up politics is a very interesting and a very brave decision. Quality of life has now become a driving force," she says. "I've heard many cases of people who have given up jobs in the computer industry for a more `voluntarily simplistic' way of life.

"It is now being seen as a deprivation if you cannot spend time with your family. People are asking: `How long can I continue at this before I get burnt out?' "

A survey of patients attending the Dublin County Stress Clinic found that 80 per cent of them suffered work-related stress. The patients included a high number of company directors, business owners and senior managers.

But people can often be their own worst enemies by collaborating in a culture that encourages long working hours. "A culture comes into an office, one or two people work long hours and then others feel under pressure if they leave at 5 p.m," says McCarthy. Some people get out of the vicious circle by becoming entrepreneurs, she adds. "Yes, you do work long hours initially, but you are getting the satisfaction of creating something and you have control over your future. A lack of recognition for your work is a very big factor in burnout and stress."

Tim Kinsella (33) became an entrepreneur when he and Laurie Mannix set up Kinman Public Relations in Dublin two years ago. The company now employs five people. While they have worked long hours to establish themselves, Tim believes these hours will gradually be reduced. "For the past two weeks, I've never finished before 10 p.m. But that's busy," he says. "Usually, it would be 7.30 p.m. or 8 p.m. I start work between 8.15 a.m. and 9 a.m."

Kinsella frequently works through lunch, saying that, while he's not a workaholic, the clients' needs come first. He emphasises that he couldn't have done it without the support of his wife, Jane. She currently works full-time in the home, minding their one-year-old son.

"We work very long days and it's very, very tough on her. But in the past five months I've taken a conscious step back and I don't work weekends any more. They are a very special time for us," Kinsella says. "That decision has brought things into perspective for me and has proved that things can wait until Monday."

He worries that he doesn't see enough of his son, but says that as Kinman becomes more established, he will have more free time. "I would be very upset if that didn't happen. We didn't go into this for money, or because we are workaholics. We want a good quality of life too," he says.

Kinsella believes he is no different to many other people working in Dublin today. "Just look at the early-morning traffic. I believe that Irish people are among the hardest working people in the world. That is what brought us to where we are today," he says.

John [not his real name] is under no illusion that his working day in the financial services sector will shorten. The father of a young family, he gets up at 5.40 a.m. to be in the office at about 6.45 a.m. Most of his colleagues are at their desks when he arrives. Few workers leave the office before 6 p.m. and most stay until at least 7 p.m.

Taking a three-week holiday is unheard-of in John's workplace, as "so-called `face time' is a big issue". "Face time" is an American term for the importance of being seen around the office as much as possible. He knows people who leave jackets on their chairs to give the illusion of being in the office when they are not.

John believes that the quality of work must suffer over a 14 or 15-hour day.

"But I've never heard it said in here. But invariably you hear people saying they are wrecked when it comes to Wednesday. While the work pays very well, you work very long hours. So if you broke it down, it's questionable if we are that well-paid," he says.

Many of his colleagues are young college graduates without family or other commitments ("They don't know anything else," he says). He believes it just wouldn't be possible to have a good quality of family life while working in such a job.

This type of work is not unique, he says. "I see people putting in similar hours in jobs that pay a lot less. I know someone with a middle-of-the-road plc job who has never brought his kids to school yet. You would be surprised how many cars there are on the road when I drive to work," he says.

While the sector is trying to make working conditions more flexible, John says his job doesn't lend itself to flexibility.

He adds: "It's a very interesting experience for me, but it's definitely not a job for life."