Rambling Opinions: Why do the Brexiteers Fear Remote Work!

Show me someone who is against remote work, and the chances are I will show you a leading Brexiteer—and here’s why. What’s more, you probably won’t find them in the office either!

The connection may not seem obvious at first, but when you start to trace the patterns, the parallels are undeniable. Both opposition to remote work and advocacy for Brexit share a common root: a desire to maintain control, protect vested interests, and resist change. Figures like Jacob Rees-Mogg, Nigel Farage, Boris Johnson, and even, in a broader sense, individuals like Elon Musk and Donald Trump have all been vocal critics of remote work. Their positions aren’t random—they’re tied to the same motivations that fueled Brexit.

Take Jacob Rees-Mogg as a prime example. As a prominent Brexiteer, he’s long championed the notion of reclaiming sovereignty and removing the perceived “red tape” imposed by the European Union. His disdain for remote work aligns neatly with this worldview. Rees-Mogg famously left passive-aggressive notes on empty desks in government offices, criticizing civil servants for not returning to their workplaces. But why does he care so much? The answer lies in the industries and systems that figures like him have stakes in. Commercial real estate, urban economies, and hierarchical corporate structures—all of these are disrupted by the shift to remote work. If workers no longer fill offices, the demand for urban office space plummets, and with it, the value of investments tied to these traditional models.

The same applies to Nigel Farage. While he’s been less outspoken on remote work compared to others, his skepticism about its productivity echoes his broader resistance to change. Farage built his political career on nostalgia for a Britain unencumbered by external influences—a Britain of “traditional values,” where the familiar systems of work, life, and governance remain intact. Remote work, with its flexibility and decentralization, challenges these values. It shifts power to individuals, allowing them to balance their personal and professional lives in ways that don’t align with the old corporate hierarchies that Farage and his ilk romanticize.

Then there’s Boris Johnson, whose comments about remote work reflect a deep-seated preference for traditional models. He’s argued that being in the office fosters creativity and productivity, even joking that working from home leads to distractions like frequent trips to the fridge. But beneath the humor lies a serious point: Johnson’s stance isn’t about productivity as much as it is about reinforcing the economic systems that depend on office workers. Cities thrive on the daily routines of commuters—their coffee purchases, lunches, and transport fares. Remote work disrupts this ecosystem, threatening the economic vitality of urban centers and, by extension, the profits of those who benefit from them.

This isn’t just a British phenomenon. Elon Musk’s hostility toward remote work at Tesla—where he demanded a minimum of 40 hours per week in the office—is driven by similar motivations. Musk’s empire thrives on centralized, tightly controlled operations. Remote work represents a loss of oversight, a dilution of the corporate control that CEOs like Musk rely on to maintain their dominance. Donald Trump’s pledge to terminate federal employees who refuse to return to the office further underscores this dynamic. For Trump, as for many others, the rhetoric about productivity is a convenient cover for preserving power and control.

Even Lord Rose, the former chairman of M&S and Asda, has joined the chorus of remote work critics. While he chaired the deeply flawed Remain campaign during the Brexit referendum, his post-referendum rhetoric has increasingly aligned with conservative, pro-Brexit viewpoints. In a recent interview with Panorama, Lord Rose told the BBC that home working was part of the UK economy's "general decline" and that employees’ productivity was suffering. His comments reflect a broader tendency among elites to blame cultural and structural shifts—like remote work—for the nation’s economic challenges, rather than addressing deeper systemic issues. By framing remote work as a symptom of decline, Lord Rose reinforces a nostalgic, Brexit-style vision of “restoring” traditional ways of working and living, where rigid hierarchies and urban economic hubs dominate.

What’s striking about these criticisms is their hypocrisy. Many of the figures railing against remote work enjoy immense flexibility themselves. Rees-Mogg’s schedule is hardly dictated by rigid office hours. Johnson’s anecdotes about cheese and distractions conveniently ignore his own autonomy. Musk and Trump operate in worlds where they dictate the rules, not follow them. Their critiques of remote work aren’t about productivity or national well-being; they’re about preserving systems that benefit them at the expense of others.

Critics of remote work often claim that it’s detrimental to productivity and the economy. However, evidence suggests that their opposition may be more about protecting their own interests than genuine concerns over national well-being. A 2022 study reported that 62% of workers felt more productive when working remotely, attributing this to fewer office distractions and a more comfortable environment. Meanwhile, only 10% of managers believed that remote workers were less productive, with the majority observing either no change or an increase in productivity. Additionally, remote work has significant economic implications: in the U.S., office property values decreased by 22% over a 12-month period, and projections indicate that remote work could reduce the value of office buildings in major cities worldwide by $800 billion by 2030. These statistics highlight how remote work disrupts traditional economic structures tied to urban centers and commercial real estate, threatening the financial interests of those who benefit from these systems.

The parallels with Brexit become even clearer when you consider the rhetoric. Just as Brexit was sold as a way to restore sovereignty and revitalize the nation, opposition to remote work is framed as a moral imperative to save productivity and economic growth. Both narratives hinge on a romanticized vision of the past, resisting changes that threaten the status quo. And in both cases, the real beneficiaries are the elites who wield economic and political power, while ordinary people are left to navigate the fallout.

Remote work, for all its challenges, represents a shift in power. It gives individuals more autonomy, allowing them to manage their lives and work on their terms. It disrupts the traditional hierarchies that kept workers tethered to desks and offices, often at great personal cost. And that’s precisely why it’s so threatening to those who benefit from the old ways of doing things.

So, show me someone who is against remote work, and the chances are I will show you a leading Brexiteer. The motivations are the same: protect personal gains, resist change, and maintain control. The rhetoric may differ, but the underlying interests remain consistent. Next time you hear a criticism of remote work, ask yourself: who stands to gain from this? The answer, more often than not, will point to those who have the most to lose from a world where power and flexibility shift to the people.