A former public service executive says that frustration with return to office isn’t a sign of weak commitment.
If I had a nickel for the number of times that my colleagues have complained about return to office (RTO), I’d be a millionaire a few times over by now.
I understand that the new policy isn’t ideal, convenient or coherent, but it’s the policy. If we applied the same effort we’ve put into complaining about RTO into real work, imagine the problems we could have solved. What a distraction.
We have privileged jobs. Let’s get back to the work of serving the public.
— a public servant who’s honoured to do what they do
Create an account or sign in to continue with your reading experience.
Create an account or sign in to continue with your reading experience.
Before the pandemic, the default model for full‑time work was clear. You showed up in person, worked 7.5 hours per day, five days a week. Flexibilities existed, such as compressed work hours, but they were the exception. For years, the most frequently requested accommodation by employees with disabilities was the ability to work remotely or adjust their hours, which was rarely granted.
Overnight, at the beginning of the COVID-19 pandemic, everyone received that accommodation. We learned that much of the public service’s work could be done effectively from home. Productivity didn’t collapse. In some areas of work, it actually improved.
For many employees, remote work wasn’t a perk; it was a lifeline. Parents juggling child care, workers with long commutes, caregivers supporting aging relatives found a new equilibrium that allowed them to contribute in their own best way.
And remote work also changed the hiring dynamic. It became possible to hire people from outside the National Capital Region to do work they might not otherwise have been considered for. On my own team, we had someone working from PEI and someone else in the Yukon. It raised the possibility that you didn’t have to move to Ottawa to progress in your career.
I don’t mean to suggest that in‑person work has no value. I am a people person, and I love being surrounded by the people I work with. I love the connection, the spark that comes from live interaction. In fact, for my last job as a deputy minister, I chose to work in an open-concept office with no walls or doors. And while I was thrilled to return to my work office, I did appreciate my time at home. My remote office provided calm and focus. I was no longer scrambling to race from one meeting to the next. And virtual meetings leveled the playing field for my colleagues outside the National Capital Region.
Both models have strengths. Neither works perfectly for everyone.
That’s why RTO, as currently designed, can feel like a one‑size‑fits‑all approach. It’s a pendulum swing back to older norms rather than a thoughtful redesign of how a modern public service should function. Workplace culture plays a role here. For decades, the public service has rewarded a particular model of leadership built on long hours, physical presence, and a belief that commitment is measured by visibility. That culture shapes how policies like RTO are interpreted and implemented.
We live in constant evolution. Technology has changed the way we live and work profoundly. Geopolitical issues have upended our assumptions about the old-world order. So, what role should an institution like the Canadian public service play in this environment? How does it best serve Canadians? How does it attract and retain the best talent? How does it create the circumstances for public servants to design and execute an ambitious agenda?
