Who Moved My Office? Confessions of a Confused Agri-Fresh Food Wanderer.

I’ll admit it: I’m confused. Not in a “where did I park the car?” way, more in a “what even is the future of work?” way. One minute I’m talking to a client who insists that if anyone in their business works from home – even just one day a week – the whole operation might crumble like a poorly packed punnet of strawberries. The next minute, I’m speaking to a fresh produce business whose entire commercial and technical teams are working remotely like a well-oiled, fruit-sorting machine. No offices. No daily commute. No fuss. Just WiFi and Teams and an unflinching belief in their people.

So who’s right? Who’s wrong? And should I be drafting this blog from a hot desk, a tractor cab, an orchard, or my kitchen table?

Let’s rewind.

The first client I met this month was adamant – and I mean “weather-will-not-delay-this-harvest” adamant—that working from home simply cannot work. “We are a high-functioning team,” they said, pounding the boardroom table like they were tenderising a brisket. “We need to be together, in the office. One organism. One hive mind. One biscuit tin.”

I nodded respectfully, though I did point out that bees don’t really work in offices either.

The real issue, they claimed, was fairness. “If we let one person work from home, then everyone will want to do it!” As if remote working were some kind of workplace gateway drug. “And anyway,” they continued, “this one individual wanted two days a week WFH – and they live just six miles from the office! SIX. MILES!”

The implication was clear: if you can see the office from your bedroom window, you must attend. In-person. Every day. Preferably before the kettle’s boiled.

What’s more, they seemed wholly unconvinced that the person in question would actually be working from home. The suggestion, it seemed, was that “WFH” was code for “Washing, Frying, and Hoovering.”

Fair enough. Trust is a big deal.

But then – I met someone else. A contact in a large, fast-moving fresh produce business who has taken an entirely different path. Their commercial and technical teams? Fully remote. Not two days. Not hybrid. Fully.

And guess what? It works. Really well. They have a simple rule: keep Teams switched on, with channels and sub-groups for each work “cell” (great word), so the moment you need someone, you ping them. Or video call them. Or GIF them. Or whatever the modern equivalent of leaning over a desk is.

They told me productivity was up. Office costs were down. And sustainability? Through the roof. No commuting, no massive buildings to heat, no need to stock up on those weird plastic stirrers everyone pretends are recyclable.

So back to my confusion. Two businesses. Two very different mindsets. One clutching onto the office like it’s the last banana at the fruit market, the other completely unbothered about physical presence—just so long as the job’s getting done.

Which leads me to wonder: is this debate actually about productivity… or control?

Because here’s the thing: remote work forces businesses to define performance by output, not presence. You have to measure actual work, not who sits in the most meetings or arrives earliest in the car park. And that can be uncomfortable if your default KPI is “bums on seats.”

But I also get it. Culture matters. Face-to-face collaboration can’t be entirely replaced by emojis and 10am Zooms. And in agriculture and fresh produce, where field meets fork meets fast-paced chaos, there’s something reassuring about being together in the same room when it all hits the fan – or the fanbelt.

So who’s right?

Honestly, I think we’re still figuring that out. Maybe both. Maybe neither. Maybe the truth lies somewhere between a two-day hybrid model and a fully decentralised digital utopia. The key? Trust your team. Use the right tools. And don’t assume that someone working in pyjamas is less productive than someone who had to iron a shirt.

The future of work in agriculture and fresh produce isn’t just about location – it’s about flexibility, focus, and fairness.

And if we get that right, maybe we can stop debating who’s at work, and start celebrating what good work actually looks like.