We closed the office doors in March 2020, a gesture made in unison across continents, as if choreographed by unseen hands. The workplace disappeared for the first time in living memory — not metaphorically, but literally. The desks went quiet. Commutes vanished. Cities sighed. And just like that, we entered the Petri dish.

I remember those early weeks vividly. People still appropriately dressed for Zoom calls — shirts ironed, hair brushed, slippers quietly out of frame. Managers tried to recreate the rhythms of office life with virtual check-ins that no one wanted. Every living room became an improvised cockpit of work, home, ambition, and anxiety. And we, those in corporate real estate, watched the whole thing unfold with equal parts fascination and dread.

Would people ever come back?

That was the question whispered in corridor-less conference calls, posed on slides titled “Scenario Planning,” uttered with hope and disbelief. It was the start of the most sweeping workplace experiment in modern history. And, like all good experiments, it told us things we hadn’t thought to ask.

Five years later, the results are in. The experiment is over. And now we’re left with something far more permanent: a playbook. 

Zoom Shirts and Living Room Boardrooms

We used to ask, “Can people be productive at home?” We wondered nervously, like a parent asking if a teenager could really be trusted with the car. It turns out they can. And often, they do better when given the keys.

Hybrid work wasn’t just a compromise—it was the outcome. The data settled somewhere between trust and autonomy, between collaboration and solitude. Two or three days in the office became the rhythm in North America and Europe. In Asia-Pacific, the beat was steadier, more in-office, more tradition-bound.

In fact, many APAC markets were the first to return to the office, buoyed by strong public health responses, compact commutes, and a cultural emphasis on face-to-face working. In Tokyo, Seoul, and Singapore, average attendance recovered to near pre-pandemic levels by late 2021. Yet, beneath the surface, the notion of flexible working has started to take root. In cities like Sydney and Hong Kong, hybrid patterns are becoming more normalised in white-collar sectors, particularly technology, media,a and professional services.

People adapted. Expectations changed. And with them, the very architecture of work.

Designing Spaces That Deserve the Commute

Once the altar of routine, the office became something else: a destination. It had to earn the commute. It had to offer something the kitchen table could not. Slowly, the fluorescent lights gave way to natural ones. Plants moved in. Cafés opened inside lobbies. Yoga rooms appeared where storage cupboards once stood. Offices learned to seduce.

In Asia-Pacific, this shift has been especially visible in gateway cities like Singapore, where new office towers are as much wellness hubs and innovation labs as they are places of work. Buildings now boast everything from sky gardens and end-of-trip facilities to digitally enabled concierge services. Occupiers seek these premium environments to support talent retention, ESG goals, and cultural renewal.

There was a phrase that floated around a lot during those first few years — flight to quality. But it wasn’t just about glossy surfaces or BREEAM certificates. It was about trust. Employees trusted employers who gave them spaces that respected their time and well-being. Companies trusted buildings that could flex and adapt, that didn’t force a 2015 template on a 2025 world.

The space shrank, yes. But it deepened.

Trust Is the New Infrastructure

And then there was the culture—or the fear of losing it. I remember the think pieces and the earnest panel debates: How do you preserve company culture without a water cooler?

But culture, like nature, finds a way. Yes, it moved online, but it also moved inward. It became something more intentional, less ambient. When people did come together—in person, in real time—it was with purpose—not to punch in, but to connect.

What surprised me, though, wasn’t that culture survived remote work. It was that companies began to realise what they hadn’t been measuring. Community. Belonging. Burnout. Purpose. The experiment revealed what we’d been ignoring. Suddenly, well-being wasn’t just a policy but a performance indicator. Trust wasn’t fluffy — it was structural.

Some companies responded with casual dress codes and Teams emojis. Others built meditation rooms, restructured hours, and rewrote job descriptions. The brave ones listened. In APAC, we see this manifesting in design briefs that emphasise sensory comfort, social space, and cultural fit, particularly in multinational offices that serve as regional HQs.

The World Responds in Its Own Time

Of course, not all the test subjects behaved the same. Geography had its say.

In Tokyo and Seoul, workers returned to the office like clockwork. Small flats and cultural norms made hybrids feel optional at best. Offices there remained not just functional but aspirational. You could see it in the way buildings filled back up—not just with people but with pride.

In Southeast Asia, the return was similarly swift but often uneven. Manila, Jakarta, and Bangkok saw strong rebounds in sectors where collaboration and supervision are key, while digital-first companies retained more flexibility. In Australia, particularly in Sydney and Melbourne, hybrid models have stabilised, with Fridays now the quietest day of the week in most office buildings.

In Europe, the pace was slower, but the commitment was stronger. Hybrid became policy—structured, predictable, and supported by infrastructure and culture alike. The cities—London, Paris, Amsterdam—have adapted. Trains ran. Offices filled mid-week. The handshake never quite went away.

North America? That was the wildcard. San Francisco’s towers emptied like unplugged aquariums. New York pulsed mid-week but sagged on Mondays and Fridays. Return-to-office became a cultural battleground — a tug-of-war between CEOs invoking collaboration and employees invoking flexibility.

But even here, the trendline moved. Not backwards. Inwards.

When Space Becomes Strategy

If there’s one thing this strange, sweeping experiment taught us, it’s that space is no longer a backdrop. It’s a protagonist.

Real estate used to be about headcount and leases. Now, it’s about experience, ESG, and competitive edge. The buildings that succeed are the ones that flex physically, technologically, and emotionally. They listen to their users' rhythms and adapt.

They have to. Because employees no longer have to show up.

Across APAC, we see this strategic mindset taking root. Portfolio reviews are frequent, occupier briefs are more bespoke, and businesses are increasingly asking, "Where should we be?” and “What kind of workplace do our people need to thrive in this region?”

And that’s the paradox: place matters more than ever in a world where presence is, for many, optional.

What Comes Next — and Who Builds It

The playbook isn’t finished — far from it. But five years on, we know much more about what works, what matters, and what no longer makes sense. We know people don’t come back to the office for mandates — they come back for meaning. Design, we’ve learned, isn’t just about aesthetics or efficiency; it’s about trust, identity, and the quiet cues that tell people: this place was made with you in mind.

We also know that regional differences demand local nuance. What resonates in Hong Kong may not land in Ho Chi Minh City, and what energises teams in Seoul might not move the dial in Sydney. The era of standardised, one-size-fits-all global real estate strategy is ending. In its place are adaptive portfolios and context-rich planning that reflect cultural, economic, and behavioural variation across APAC and beyond.

The real question now isn’t whether the office survives. It's whether we can reimagine it as a platform for performance, pride, and possibility. And if anywhere is likely to lead that reimagining, it’s Asia-Pacific, where diversity is not an obstacle to navigate but a wellspring of creative energy.

Because in this next chapter of work, the winners won’t be those who revert to what was — they’ll be bold enough to build what’s next.

Dr Lee Elliott is Head of Global Occupier Research at Knight Frank. He advises businesses on the evolving world of work and how corporate real estate can be used as a strategic tool to support people, performance and purpose.