Now, it’s been years since I wasn’t WFH, but I’ve had an office, a cube, a right to park in a dying office’s flexspace cube, and occasionally worked in bullpen open-plan stuff. That’s also the order of preference: WFH, office, assigned cube (unless yours sucks), flex cube, punching yourself in the face, “open” plan.

Let’s take the last vestige of personal space or signifier that your job is anything other than a knowledge worker assembly line and do away with it in the name of “collaboration.” You will have no place for your red stapler or “Do it for Her” note, and you will be forced to do your work, which may be sensitive or may involve some trial and error, as well as putting any down-time you choose to take, on display for every asshole in the office who knows nothing about your productivity (as dangerous for the dedicated or ambitious as it is for the slacker). I didn’t even like it when it was complete strangers at a coworking space.