I know there’s probably hardly anyone here who feels the same, but I loathe open offices with every fiber of my being.
I sit in an open space where we’re ostensibly expected to write computer code. It’s table-style open office. Without moving my head I can make eye contact with 10 people. If I stand up it’s 30. People conduct maximum-volume conference calls on speakerphone, they do boisterous loud socializing. Meeting space and quiet space are a premium, so people just hold meetings in the work space. As well as eating lunch there. Oh and the big 40-person auditorium space is contiguous with the office space with no walls.
There is no acoustic tiling. There is a sound masking system; nobody seems to understand it’s for masking normal background noise. It was briefly cranked up to the loudness of a small jet engine in an apparent effort to drown out the noise of blasting the world cup and playing foosball; we then concluded that noise management doesn’t work for us and we may as well give up. I have a sound meter app on my phone; it’s always at 60dB and often up to 70db.
I spend a good bit of my workday grinding my teeth and asking myself why this persists and who could possibly think this is a good idea. But of course… bring this up to management, and of course the line they tell you is that it’s great for collaboration. From within the confines of their private office, of course. And of course collaboration works so great when everyone is wearing dinner-plate sized headphones to drown out the mouthy extraverts, when everyone is working home 4 days a week to avoid the zoo, when everybody sends Slack messages to the person sitting next to them so as to fight the noise level in vain.
It’s not just a bad management idea, something is wrong with workers in general these days. We do have a “quiet room” in our office with a small futon and a couple of beanbags. It’s always occupied of course, as people are desperate to escape the endless talkey-jokey hell of endless extraversion. I’m in there one day, and someone opens the door to come in. Okay, I feel it man, have a seat. But even here in the sanctity of the quiet room, this stranger I don’t even know plops his ass on the futon not even 18 inches away from me. Why even come to the private room? Why sit next to a hostile geezer striving his best to emanate a “fuck off” vibe?
In summary I hate everything and I don’t understand anything and I’m about to embark on a career selling essential oils to housewives who believe in astrology.