Back to the office—6 reasons creatives need to be together IRL

When I heard the news about R/GA closing its offices in San Francisco and Hudson Yards, New York—the office they made a documentary about, the one that required a host of new patents, that looked like a big spaceship—I couldn’t help feeling a sense of dread.

Dread that we might be making a decision we will come to regret—one that sacrifices creativity for convenience, opts for inertia over inspiration and trades our mental health for elastic waistband pants.

There’s a growing chorus of people who say we don’t need to be together to do our jobs, and they’re 100% right. The past few years have proven that. But my counterpoint is simple: We need to be together to make our jobs worth doing. Here is why:

Interactions are good for mental health

Our industry has experienced more mental health issues since the start of the pandemic than ever. Why?

Aristotle said that man is a social animal, and people who go into advertising probably over-index there. Most of us give our jobs 40 hours a week—but when those 40 hours are spent in front of a computer screen performing tasks—it means 40 hours of no social interaction, no spontaneous laughs and no "We're going out for lunch; wanna come?”

Work becomes more of a chore and less of a balanced release of brass tracks and fun. It becomes a grind. How can we feel inspired if we can’t even feel well?

We learn from and inspire each other

Your place of work can be a place to meet other interesting humans. I’ve met all of my best friends at the office. I’ve had creative breakthroughs and personal breakthroughs. I’ve learned things I never would have learned otherwise. I’ve changed my mind about people, and for the better. I’ve let go of grudges.

Work-life has been an integral part of my life-life. Many of us joined this field to meet brilliant people and do brilliant things. If we’re going to do the hard stuff, shouldn’t we get the benefits?

Offices can manifest a vision

I remember the first time I walked into the R/GA building to visit friends. I wasn’t prepared for the sense of awe that came over me. It made me feel what the company was about: the future. And I knew everybody who walked in would feel the daily reminder that they had a creative mandate to break new boundaries. As a creative person, what a rush. And probably one you’re not getting in your studio apartment.

An office is a shared space where every choice is emblematic of a vision.  It is the physical manifestation of the soul of the collective, the clubhouse for your weird little gang.

Personal productivity is elevated

I’m not talking about productivity from an employer perspective, but individual productivity. Productivity that comes from gaining a shared understanding and alignment of your ideas and dreams. What if you didn’t have to play calendar Jenga to have a chat? What if something that took four Zoom calls could be decided in one live conversation?

Mentorship and observation promote learning

Most of us who have been in the industry for a while learned our trade by doing one thing really well: watching senior people work. We could observe the way they picked apart an idea or handled a difficult client. We could observe how their body language adjusted as they worked a room to get the result they were looking for. We could see what was successful, and just as importantly, what wasn’t.

A huge part of what we do doesn’t happen in a Google Doc. They are skills that are best learned by repeated and varied real-world observation—the ones that get you to the next level.

Additionally, when you’re IRL, you can see when people are outperforming you, right in front of your eyes. You get that “I have to step it up” feeling … the one that helps you advance. By giving up on real-life learning, we are playing a dangerous game with the futures of our young people.

IRL chaos stokes creativity and delight

This last is one of my favorites, and I think it’s the most taken for granted. The routine of the screen does not allow for the chaos that stokes creativity and delight. Our days are rigidly structured, with calendar invites blocking the whole damn thing.

When you go to the office, you open the door to be surprised. The commute. The random combos of people in the kitchen. Overhearing what others are working on. Discovering new things.

We work in a creative industry. The people coming up today should know the joys of our very unique community. Hell, I want to rediscover them for myself. Our work is interesting and alive.  Anything else feels like running out the clock to collect a paycheck. If that’s all we are in it for, there are easier ways to make a buck.