Lockdown lessons on balance and belonging at work

Why do some people thrive when working from home, when others struggle? Findings from ethnographic research I carried out during the pandemic suggest that the answer lies less in individual self-discipline, and more in the invisible social support of office life. After spending three months conducting digital research with a tech start-up that went fully remote in 2020, I found that employees’ efforts to stay productive without burning out, and connected without feeling overwhelmed, had previously depended on the collective, in-person routines and social cues of office life that quietly sustained balance. When these rhythms disappeared, the hidden social infrastructure that served to temporally regulate the working day was exposed. Lockdown revealed a hidden truth about work-life balance. It’s not just a matter of individual willpower or clever routines but depends on shared social frameworks that structure and support daily life. 

Imagining new ways of life 

For Lisa, Head of Marketing, remote work offered a glimpse of a better future. Freed from her four-hour daily commute, she said, “I can finally arrange life the way I want to”, which included spending more time with her puppy, exercising, or visiting family once restrictions lifted. Another colleague dreamed of working from Bali, combining work with travel and hobbies. Remote work allowed them to imagine new ways of living, redistributing time to health, family, and leisure without sacrificing ambition.  

But these aspirations raised a dilemma: when every moment is yours to structure, how do you know if you are using it ‘well’? As lockdown progressed, I observed Lisa struggling to “arrange life the way I want to”. What first seemed like freedom slowly became a burden: the responsibility to craft life, alone, without the invisible social support structures she once took for granted. Without the rhythms of office life to structure her day, she found it harder to know when to switch off or how to measure whether her time was being used well. 

The moral weight of time 

Sociologist Jonathan Gershuny proposes that professional working cultures treat ‘busyness’ as a status symbol: a “badge of honour” indicating that every moment is accounted for and productive. These ideas echo a much longer history. Weber described how the Protestant work ethic shaped modern capitalism by framing the efficient use of time as a moral duty, framing productivity or ‘laziness’ as a matter of being a morally good or bad person. Later, historian E.P. Thompson traced how industrial capitalism disciplined workers into treating “time as money” as common sense. 

But during lockdown, these pressures were reconfigured. The goal was not to be overworked, but to demonstrate mastery over time by living a balanced, disciplined life. Balance, rather than busyness, became the new “badge of honour”. Crucially, balance was not about working less but working better. Employees judged themselves not only on output, but on how effectively they managed routines: fitting in exercise, eating healthily, switching off at an appropriate hour, and staying motivated.  

But, paradoxically, time off continued to carry guilt. One worker admitted that she struggled to relax on her day off because there was “so much to do”. Joshua told me: “I feel more guilty procrastinating while at home, while having a coffee with a colleague at work felt like a perfectly reasonable thing to do.” Without shared office cues, like lunch chats, leaving at 5:30pm, it was harder to switch off. What appeared as flexibility when working from home sometimes transformed into overwork, a phenomenon Heejung Chung calls “the flexibility paradox.” For Joshua, guilt about taking breaks at home revealed how much the office’s informal cues had once legitimised rest. Without them, even downtime required justification. 

Balance is collective, not individual 

One employee, Spencer, seemed to have mastered work-life balance. Even before the pandemic, he worked from home several days a week, structuring his day around walks, hobbies, and focused work. Colleagues admired him as organized, productive, and fulfilled: the epitome of a “wholesome life.” 

But Spencer’s routine wasn’t just personal discipline. It was supported by invisible social infrastructure: his family had negotiated a shared understanding of the day, allowing uninterrupted focus while others handled care and household tasks. Balance is never solely an individual achievement; it depends on co-workers, family, and social routines that collectively make a structured day possible. For some, like Spencer, balance can feel attainable. For others, particularly those without similar support, working from home may blur boundaries, amplify stress, and feel far less balanced. Spencer exemplified individual mastery, but his balance was sustained by negotiated routines at home, reminding us that no one achieves balance alone. 

Why this matters now 

As debates about returning to the office continue, it is tempting to frame work-life balance as a personal lifestyle choice or something that flexible policies alone can fix. But lockdown revealed a hidden truth, that balance is never just individual. It depends on shared routines, social cues, and the often-unseen labour of colleagues, families, and communities. Recognising this collective dimension is crucial. Without it, flexibility risks becoming a privilege for some and a paradox for others.  

A complete return to full-time office life is not the universal solution either, because its rhythms have never been evenly experienced. For working parents, rigid office hours clash with childcare responsibilities, forcing many mothers to reduce working hours or sacrifice career progression. For workers like Lisa, hours spent commuting crowds out the possibility of time for health, family, and non-work pursuits.  

Achieving balance therefore requires more than generic flexibility or office mandates. It requires workplaces to acknowledge the social and domestic labour that makes structured time possible, and to take some responsibility for it. Establishing hybrid arrangements, team norms around availability and breaks, and recognising the role of relational work both within and outside of work can make balance more evenly achievable. Without these supports, flexibility risks being a privilege for a few rather than a solution for all. 

Read the original study here. 

About the author
Lily Rodel is a doctoral researcher at the Oxford Internet Institute, University of Oxford. Her work explores how hybrid and remote work reshapes the boundaries between paid work, care, and everyday life.