Business Or Pleasure?

WeWork and the mixed rewards of shared offjce spaces

- Nicholas Hune-brown

ONE AFTERNOON last May, on the fourth floor of a massive renovation site in downtown Toronto, a lanky twenty something in a hard hat asked me to envision the future. Jarred was from WeWork, a company that was in the midst of building a six-storey communal workplace where self-employed strivers could rent desks, mingle, and share ideas around craft-beer taps. The space, he assured me, was going to be funky. “There’ll be exposed brick and sockets to give it that modern look,” he said, gesturing at the dusty expanse.

Jarred was trying to sell me on more than just aesthetics — he was offering a utopian vision of community. My future co-workers, he said, would be fascinating. They were startup founders and young creative types. A tequila company had rented office space and wanted to host tequila Tuesdays. He opened the WeWork app on his phone, and I watched as a cascade of posts from my soon-to-be colleagues and collaborators flew past. “I’ve heard from people who have tried other co-working spaces and . . . the other ones aren’t bad,” Jarred said with an exaggerated pause. WeWork was just that much better. “We know your name, we remember your birthday, we remember your dog’s birthday,” he continued. I don’t have a dog, but I appreciated the sentiment. I signed up on the spot.