Why Remote Work Is Not The Same

Let's get this out of the way: I loved remote work in 2020. I was more productive than I had ever been. My calendar was stacked, my Slack was buzzing, and I actually liked the people I worked with.

But here's what we forget: we were all trapped.

No coffee runs. No weddings. No weekends. Just the anxiety of a collapsing world, and work - this weird, comforting little island of normalcy. It gave structure. It gave purpose. For a while, it even gave belonging.

You weren't just logging into Zoom calls. You were clinging to them.

That era fooled a lot of us. We convinced ourselves that remote work was better. That it was the future. That open offices were dead and async was liberation. But it was never a fair comparison. Remote work didn't win. It just happened to be the only thing standing when everything else fell apart.

And now? Now the world is moving again. People are living again. And suddenly remote doesn't feel as dreamy.

Here's what's actually happening:

• Your designer is in Sri Lanka, but unreachable for 3 days because of a last-minute surf trip.
• Your engineer is attending his cousin's roka in Lucknow and keeps promising "I'll get to it tonight."
• You're juggling daycare pickups, landlord calls, and a 6 PM pitch deck review - all from the same chair.
• Half the team is "working" from distant hometowns with frequent power-cuts and questionable internet speed.

This isn't flexibility. It's a slow breakdown of attention.

Everyone thinks they're multitasking. Everyone thinks they're being "intentional." But deadlines are slipping. People are flakier. Projects drag. You can feel the dilution in every interaction - a 5-minute reply that took 3 hours to come, a 30-minute call that covered nothing, a doc that's still "in review" after 9 days.

In 2020, we didn't have this conflict. There was nothing to multitask with. We were stuck inside. Going "heads down" wasn't a focus choice - it was the only option. You worked through dinner because dinner was just reheated khichdi in front of your laptop anyway. You worked weekends because what else were you going to do?

Remote work worked in that world. Because life didn't.

And it wasn't a 9-to-6 job then. You logged in at 10, maybe 11, took a break mid-afternoon, and came back to wrap things up at 9 PM. And no one minded, because no one was going anywhere. The world outside was frozen. Your team became your emotional scaffolding.

Weekend connect with team was normal. Fun Sundays happened. Friday 11 PM deploys were oddly satisfying. No FOMO, no distractions, just an eerie stillness that made overworking feel... fine.

Now it's different.

People are making up for lost time. Going to concerts, weddings, brunches, therapy, pottery classes. They're not wrong to do that. But remote work - especially the fully-distributed, timezone-free, async-everything kind - hasn't adjusted.

It's still expecting the same availability and intensity that made sense during lockdown. But we're not in lockdown. We're living in two competing realities: a work system designed for isolation, and a lifestyle moving back toward community.

I'm not saying return-to-office is the answer.
(Frankly, some offices are just remote work but in a louder room.)

But I am saying we need to stop pretending remote is this perfect solution. It was a stopgap. A coping mechanism. A survival strategy that just happened to look like innovation.

If you want remote to work in 2024, you can't just copy-paste the 2020 playbook. You have to redesign the rules.

• Fewer meetings, but clearer outcomes.
• Real offline days - not "flexible" ones.
• Stronger rituals to create momentum.
• Honest boundaries between work and everything else.

Remote isn't dead. But it needs a reality check.

Follow-Up Thought:
This isn't a rant against flexibility. It's a rant against pretending the system hasn't changed, when everything else has. Maybe hybrid is the compromise. Maybe the future is remote - but with a lot more structure, and a lot more honesty.

Because the dream of working from anywhere doesn't mean much if your mind is nowhere.