By Chris Ackrill 
Working from home has its advantages and disadvantages, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. Many of us can cringe in horror at the memory of how we used to travel forty, fifty or more miles each way to work, and how much time and money it cost us. I feel I’ve served my time running down the ramp at Euston Station to find a seat fit only for a supermodel’s arse. Home working now affords the luxury of working with zero running costs, and a home cooked lunch. Perfect.
Thankfully, I can do remote and impersonal. I’ve spent most of my life avoiding other people. You can feel a bit out of touch working from home though. In my last job I had a day’s corporate induction with 180 others on-line. I spoke to nobody; I just watched the talking heads discuss the corporate ethos. I realised that in the first three months in my new job as a health & safety consultant I had only met four people, and I was unlikely to meet many more however long I stayed. I can’t always remember who I’ve met in person, and who I’ve just spoken to on Teams. I met my manager twice. I’d “speak” to folk from other companies, but I’d never meet them, and I didn’t know what they looked like. They were just names, and an occasional smiley face at the end of an email on a Friday afternoon.
A lady left the company who’d been there over twenty years. Five years earlier, there would have been a card going around for people to sign, a whip-round, and a presentation at the end of the day with little speeches and hugs. I’d never met the woman before – either in person or virtually – so there was nothing I felt I could add on an email or a virtual card. Then, another person left, who I’d actually met. I wrote a comment on the virtual Good Luck card, but I didn’t really feel I’d contributed to something she’d treasure for years to come. I suppose when I retire I’ll just turn my PC off and go to the pub on my own, as I do most Fridays. 
I sometimes see my neighbours driving off in the morning, but I don’t know which of them are going to work. The neighbours see me going off a few times a week too; though I’m usually going shopping or to the pub (my pub wear is smarter than my work wear). Even if they could see the laptop in my backpack, it wouldn’t necessarily mean I was going to work: I could be doing high-level work for the government, or I could be spending the day in Wetherpoons. I need the pub because the keen home-worker makes his own entertainment.
The social balance has been disrupted. It’s fine if you’re a raving introvert like me, but this way of working doesn’t suit everyone. People don’t discuss non-work-related issues on-line as they do in person. For example, going on holiday is now a very private thing. You used to discuss your holiday plans with your work colleagues and show off your tan on your return (showing your tan line online can take you to a very dark place; involving what we used to call Personnel, and possibly law enforcement). The banter and upmanship has gone. There used to be bragging involved, but you’d get a vicarious excitement from hearing about someone else’s week on the beach; especially if you still had your own summer break to look forward to.
In some home working jobs, you could disappear for a week, and few people would be wondering where you were. If you’re unlucky and you get rumbled, console yourself with the thought that an on-line telling off is only virtual. It isn’t real.
