One of the best-selling books in the UK is The Anxious Generation by Jonathan Haidt. The author explores the recent catastrophic decline in youth mental health and its potential causes, focusing on the impact of technology, social media and overprotective parenting. It’s a sobering read, and I am sure the book will get some blowback based on his challenging views. Still, for this reader, it offers some profound thoughts about the importance of (and the lack of) real-world connections, close relationships and friendships among young people. Haidt calls it the Great Rewiring, which has served to connect everyone in the world while disconnecting them from the people around them. The consequences of this disconnection are grave. For Haidt, “People don’t get depressed when they face threats collectively; they get depressed when they feel isolated, lonely, or useless”.

Haidt’s focus is the childhood experience of “Gen Z”, defined as young people born since 1995, but I am confident that very many of that generational cohort are no longer just miserable in school; they are continuing to feel sad and disconnected in the new world of hybrid work. I have argued before that many older workers have joyously “cried for freedom from the commute” and seized the new paradigm of hybrid and remote working. This mature cohort can draw upon deep reserves of social capital accrued over the years. However, a new generation of workers are starting their careers in organisations where the dynamic and interpersonal norms have changed radically since 2020. I fear that the predominance of hybrid work has been a double-edged sword for the young; creating an illusion of flexibility and well-being while perpetuating that same harmful sense of being apart.

The myth of outputs

The current romanticised myth of remote working is that it is better for work-life balance and that you should be judged on your “outputs”, not your inputs. If you produce great work while wearing flip-flops in a cafe in the South of France, who needs to be wearing pressed woollens huddled together amongst the post-commute odour of others? In fact, for many younger workers, the idyll of using a laptop and wearing beach shorts at the cafe is a pipedream. Sure, some ‘Influencers’ on Instagram might be living the dream, working from their Camper Van on the coast, but for most young people, “remote” means a gloomy bedroom or their parent’s kitchen table. LinkedIn is full of commentators and work-mode experts saying that remote is the future of work. They argue that working should not be about your inputs, attendance, or in-person visibility. Instead, your productivity should be measured by your outputs (or its vague bedfellow “outcomes”).

And that’s where the commentariat is wrong. It has ALWAYS been about the inputs: showing up well, getting known, offering a view, learning as you go, building relationships, making some mistakes, and getting on by getting on with others, and getting on with it. These random inputs accumulate and create reciprocity, relationships, and social capital, which operates as a kind of acquired “lung capacity” for navigating hierarchies, future career moves, and organisational change. It was never about the outputs. If it had, firms would not have developed performance management systems that evaluate and reward behaviours (‘doing the right thing’) as well as outputs (‘doing the thing right’.)

Suppose no one can see or sense your inputs. In that case, your outputs merely become aggregated in the cloud, an indeterminate collation of work seldom seen as “owned” by you, understood as your distinct contribution, or something to determine your reward. If it was all about valuing outputs, as it is now with AI/Search today, then frankly, no one cares who ‘outputs’ the answer. And when people stop caring about who did what, then it’s over.

So my recommendation for those new to the workplace is to put the phone in flight mode, buy an old cassette player for your commute, and head to your workplace more often than your peers. Stuff ‘em. Don’t flounder in the ‘burbs; be in the room more often than those others. Better still, try to find an employer where being together is valued deeply by the leadership team, who attend with the same vigour and verve they had early in their careers.

While they still exist, find a place where they still fly a pirate flag above the building. Don’t dwell on the Glassdoor reviews online; suck up the commute and take in the unique smell of the place. Seize a chance to work on something amazing where your ability to INPUT matters - offering ideas, thoughts, humour, misgivings, doubts, and imagination amidst the inevitable many moments of boredom. Your inputs - you as a person - are the reason for being in the room. Much of what you do won’t feel amazing, but it’s better to be seen than to be invisible in the cloud. Not this year, or maybe even next - but a few years from now, you will be glad you did.

PS. If you’re a leader in that firm, read Haidt’s book - and go easy on the new kids.