JENI O’DOWD: We all fell for the WFH fantasy, but maybe it’s time to log back in IRL

The work from home backlash may have helped cost Peter Dutton the election. But that doesn’t mean he was wrong.

Australians have fallen for the myth that working from home is an unassailable right. It’s not.

No matter how many hashtags scream for “flexibility”, any employer will tell you that productivity, culture and career development are stronger when people show up in person, especially for young workers trying to get ahead.

Peter Dutton was hammered for saying what many business leaders know to be true. His fatal mistake was announcing it at the start of his campaign, giving opponents a free hit.

But let’s not forget NSW Premier Chris Minns did exactly the same thing — rolled back remote work for NSW public servants — and copped barely a whimper of outrage.

WFH might feel like a right, but it was always meant to be a privilege. The truth is that it’s holding too many people, especially the next generation, back.

As a contractor, I manage various clients, many of whom I’ve only met virtually. No desks. No water cooler. I have my cats for company, the odd video call and a well-worn track between the kettle and my keyboard.

However, I recently started a new contract that requires me to appear in person. Proper work clothes. Actual shoes. A commute that made me realise Sydney’s public transport isn’t as bad as people say. And lunch in the city, surrounded by actual people.

And then — something unexpected happened.

They threw me a welcome lunch. A proper one. Loud, long, expensive, full of stories, far too much wine and lots of laughter. In two hours, I’d figured out who the office over-sharer was, who sneaked cigarettes at lunch and who loved their dog like a child.

It wasn’t just nice. It was necessary.

Because no one throws you a welcome lunch on Zoom, no one tells you their origin story in a Slack thread, and no one bonds over shared hangovers in a virtual meeting.

And it made me think — maybe we’ve gone too far with the whole work from home debate, and maybe Dutton had a good point rolling back remote work for Federal public servants.

We talk a lot about the benefits of working from home — and yes, they’re real. If you’ve got school-aged kids, elderly parents, or a plumber who always arrives between 8am and 1pm, flexible work is a godsend.

You can meet a deadline and still make it to soccer pick-up. You can get your flu shot, call your kid’s teacher and throw on a load of washing.

But no one with a baby or toddler can do a full day’s work at home without chaos and a mounting sense of guilt. And for young people? Stuck at home, they miss out on mentorship, social connection and learning by osmosis, all crucial for career growth.

It’s time to stop pretending that WFH works for everyone, equally, all the time.

When Dutton first proposed rolling back remote work for Federal public servants, he was branded regressive, out of touch and anti-flexibility.

But when NSW Premier Chris Minns did the same thing for State workers? There was some criticism, but nothing like the uproar Dutton faced.

“We had to battle through criticism, but I’m glad we’ve done it,” Minns said last month.

“If you speak to people, particularly young people who come into the workforce, they’re desperate for mentoring, they’re desperate for some guidance in the workplace, and that’s just not possible to do via workplace memo or YouTube video.”

Let’s not forget that Minns is a Labor Premier too.

Behind the politics is a deeper problem: employers who want to wind back WFH arrangements now risk being shouted down in an increasingly polarised debate.

While working from home can be a gift, it can also become a trap, especially when people start withdrawing from the social rituals of working life.

Too many now live in near-total isolation, working from a bedroom or kitchen table with little to no interaction outside the people they live with, or none if they live alone.

This isn’t healthy. And if someone is anxious about returning to a shared workspace, that anxiety only deepens the longer they’re allowed to avoid it.

Being around others, even in passing, grounds us. The workplace was never just about productivity — it was about connection, routine and feeling part of something bigger than yourself.

There’s a quiet mental health crisis building on the fringes of this debate. And if we can’t talk about it because it’s politically unpopular or ideologically loaded, we’re all worse off.

These days, even questioning the work from home model can get you labelled a bad feminist, as if wanting people to return to shared workspaces is somehow an attack on women’s progress.

For young workers, working from home can be a career killer. Many studies have examined the effects of working from home on young people, showing they feel isolated while working remotely.

Young workers are more likely than older age groups to believe that full-time remote work limits their long-term earning potential.

And they’re right. The corporate world is starting to realise it too. Uber, Amazon, Dell, NAB and Flight Centre have rolled back flexible work to some extent, requiring staff to return to the office.

My welcome lunch wasn’t just a free meal. It said: “You matter here.” It gave me a crash course in personalities and power dynamics and made me feel like part of a team working toward the same objective.

Teams cannot be built without spending time together. If connection is the goal, we may need less hysteria about the subject and more welcome lunches.