I hate commuting. Literally hate it (and I actually know what the word ‘literally’ means). I drive to work, at least I did before COVID, and I considered the time I spent in the car as dead time. That hour and a half in the car added nothing to my life. I felt that was being stolen from my life. Time where I did nothing other than move my foot from the brake to the accelerator and back again. There was no benefit in me spending that time travelling to work. There was no trade-off that I could see.
I tried to get more from this time by by listening to podcasts, making work phone calls and listening to audio books, but I found it didn’t make the time I spent in the car any more worthwhile. It wasn’t how I wanted to spend an hour and a half a day.
And then COVID came along and we were all forced to work from home. Huzzah! No more life leeching commute.
I started spending more time with my family. I now take my kids to school in the mornings. I’m home for dinner every night, I work when it suits me and life is grand.
Or at least it was until I went back into the office.
I returned to the office for the first time in months on a Wednesday. The building I work in is vast and usually filled with people and a hubbub in the common areas. On the Wednesday I went back, and each subsequent day the place is empty. I could count the number of people meeting for a coffee in our food court on one hand. However, when I arrived at my desk I saw my boss, my colleagues and an overwhelming feeling of gratitude came over me. They all looked well, they were genuinely happy to see me in the flesh and there was an excitement about working in close proximity to other people I hadn’t felt in a long time.
And that’s when the trade-offs came into stark focus. The price of giving up my commute, of getting that hour and a half of my life back, was not being able to spend time with the people I work with. Not being in a position to enjoy their input, understanding how they’re experiencing the world. I also realised I missed being part of a team.
COVID-19 has been all about trade-offs: rising case numbers vs. keeping the economy intact. Isolating vulnerable people vs. caring for people’s mental health. Minimising deaths of the old and the more vulnerable vs. creating meaningful employment and opportunities for young people. Locking down people in their homes vs. incurring sovereign debt that my grand kids will be paying off. Avoiding my commute vs. spending time with people who add another valuable dimension to my life. Working when I’m expected to vs. being more productive by working when I work best.
On and on, these trade-offs crystalise. And the longer COVID plagues our societies the more trade-offs will become evident. So while we’re all talking about what the new future’s going to look like, it might be worth considering a few things. COVID bought into stark reality what parts of our old lives we can do without. However, if the new world is all about doing away with the bad, we need to consider what else we’ll lose.
Sure, I will happily skip my commute, but the cost on the other side of that equation is larger than I grasp. If I work remotely full time, I miss out on the incidental conversations in the office that help me clarify my thinking, that help me understand subtle shifts in the business I work in. And I miss out on gossip, which despite its bad reputation, is critical to healthy and productive work places. If you don’t believe me, read this, this and this.
And a trade-off I hadn’t considered. If remote working is an option, I don’t only compete for my role amongst the few people in the city I live in, I compete against everyone on the planet – and while I’m good at what I do, I’m not the best in the world (don’t tell my employer).
There are many decisions our governments, our employers and we have made. They all come at a cost, many of which we haven’t quantified yet. While we talk about this new, post-COVID future, we should be more circumspect about what we want, and try to understand as many of the consequences of our decisions as possible.