The other side of remote work and the case for a hybrid future

BY SAMUEL JEKELI

Remote work arrived as a symbol of liberation, a modern solution to long commutes, rising costs, and rigid routines. It promised a gentler rhythm of life, the comfort of home, and an escape from the harshness of traditional office structures. Yet beneath this promise lies a collection of subtle harms, shadows that have quietly shaped the human experience in ways society is only beginning to understand. These harms are not loud or sensational; they are slow-moving shifts that affect how people connect, work, and see themselves.

One of the deepest concerns is the thinning of human connection. Workplaces have, for decades, served as social ecosystems where people form associations, friendships, and professional identities. These environments provide the small but essential signals that affirm belonging: a colleague’s greeting, shared breaks, spontaneous conversations, or simple physical presence. Fully remote structures dilute these signals. Workers operate in isolation, surrounded not by teammates but by screens and silence. The digital environment allows communication, but without the warmth, unpredictability, and subtle cues that come from being physically present. Over time, this distance weakens the emotional glue that binds teams and communities.

This isolation also affects personal identity. Many people draw structure and meaning from the separation between home and work. The act of getting dressed, stepping out, and transitioning into a different space is not merely routine; it is psychological preparation. Remote work dissolves this separation. When bedrooms become offices and dining tables become boardrooms, the boundaries between personal life and professional demands fade. The home, once a retreat, becomes infused with the tensions of deadlines and meetings. Workers report feeling dispersed, as though their lives have merged into an endless, indistinct stream of tasks and responsibilities. This erosion of boundaries silently reshapes mental well-being.

Another significant shadow is the quiet expansion of work hours. Without the physical ritual of closing an office door or walking away from a workplace, the workday often stretches into the night. Messages continue to appear, tasks linger, and the pressure to be constantly reachable intensifies. What begins as flexibility evolves into a state of permanent availability. Burnout emerges not through intense bursts of stress but through persistent, low-grade strain. People work more hours than before, yet feel less accomplished. Rest becomes harder to protect, and the human mind, which thrives on alternating periods of focus and recovery, rarely gets the relief it needs.

Remote work also amplifies pre-existing inequalities. Those with a stable power supply, reliable internet, and a quiet living environment benefit from the convenience and autonomy it offers. But many others struggle with noisy surroundings, inadequate workspace, inconsistent connectivity, and competing domestic responsibilities. In such cases, remote work becomes an added burden rather than a privilege. The digital divide widens professional gaps, creating an uneven landscape where success is determined not only by talent or dedication but by access to essential infrastructure.

The weakening of workplace culture is another concern. Culture is not built on policy documents; it grows through shared experiences, collective routines, and the day-to-day expressions of values. In fully remote settings, culture becomes formal and procedural, communicated through scheduled meetings and written guidelines rather than lived reality. New employees often find it difficult to understand the unwritten norms that define an organisation. Team cohesion becomes fragile, trust requires more deliberate effort, and misunderstandings multiply without the support of body language and face-to-face engagement.

Creativity, too, suffers in remote ecosystems. Many of history’s strongest innovations emerged from spontaneous interactions, ideas exchanged in hallways, quick discussions during breaks, or collaborative moments that no one planned. Remote work, by its nature, favours structured communication. Meetings must be scheduled; discussions follow agendas. This reduces the possibility of the unexpected sparks that drive imagination and creative problem-solving. While remote work enhances efficiency, it often does so at the cost of the informal exchanges that spark innovation.

These concerns do not suggest that remote work should be discarded. Rather, they show that humanity needs balance. As highlighted in a recent conversation with Grace Ezeobi, a chartered accountant whose reflections on workplace interaction and human behaviour reinforce these concerns, the path forward is not an extreme shift in either direction but a thoughtful blend. A hybrid model offers that balance. It respects the need for flexibility while preserving the structures that support human connection. It allows workers to enjoy the quiet focus of remote days while benefiting from the creative energy and relational warmth of physical gatherings.

Hybrid work acknowledges that people are both independent and communal. It offers a rhythm where presence and privacy coexist, where organisations can build strong cultures without sacrificing the personal well-being of their staff. It restores the boundaries that remote work erodes and preserves the advantages that digital tools provide. In doing so, it offers a humane response to the evolving nature of work, one that aligns with the complexities of modern life without losing touch with the fundamental human need for connection.

Remote work’s shadows do not define its future. They simply remind society that while technology can change the structure of work, it cannot replace the essence of being human. A balanced hybrid approach offers a path that honours both progress and people.

Samuel Jekeli, a human resources professional, writes from FCT, Abuja.