No Going Back

Alan had never been more certain of life than on March 20, 2020, at 8:20 a.m. By 3:00 p.m., the world had turned upside down. Until that moment, he’d been, by his own admission, in control. And then came the pandemic.

Five years later, life began again. This time in a new city.

If you have ever spoken with someone from Seattle, you know how quickly the weather comes up, a polite deflection, a hopeful glance toward summer. And if you have ever visited, odds are the weather was good. It happens. But for Alan, it was never the weather that anchored his love for the Pacific Northwest.

A global illness reshaped human behavior and capitalism forever, and Alan, now writing for The New Yorker, chronicled it. He sensed the shift first in work life: the hesitant, stuttering attempts to return to the office. January 2, 2021. April 2021. January 2, 2022. Each start and stop eroded trust until remote work became the default, at least for companies under a hundred employees. Even global firms with shiny real estate found themselves begging.

Work stopped being a “third space.” It became a regimented, almost academic routine, clock in, clock out, and people quietly chose home over company, self over the supposed greater good.

Then came hospitality. Business owners began closing earlier, sometimes more days each week, reclaiming time for themselves and their families. The customer, once king, became secondary, a shift so antithetical to the idea of hospitality that it almost felt revolutionary.

There is no going back.

Alan joined the ranks of the majority. His work ethic remained as feverish as ever, but now he carried it with him, wherever he went. And for now, that place is New York City.