The latest trend making its way out of Silicon Valley — the land of kombucha on tap, nap pods, and billionaires who think they invented walking — is a “no shoes in the office” policy.
That’s right. Some tech companies, in their eternal quest to make work feel less like work, have declared shoes are the enemy. Not low pay. Not endless Zoom meetings. Not middle managers who use “Let’s circle back” as a threat. No, it’s shoes.
The idea is that not wearing shoes will help workers feel more comfortable, spark creativity and bring people back into the office. Because nothing says “We want you back in your cube” like your colleague’s gnarly toes creeping into your peripheral vision during a brainstorming meeting.
I don’t know about you, but I think comfort is overrated when it comes to productivity. Take my three children, for instance. They are most “comfortable” sprawled across the living room, sockless, doom scrolling YouTube videos of people who make a living whispering into microphones. Are they productive? Not unless you count eating an entire bag of Hot Takis as output.
Let’s also be clear: This is not a Minnesotan thing to do. Even if workers wear socks and slippers, it is still not a Minnesotan thing to do. In Minnesota, we keep our boots by the door, we wipe our feet twice before stepping onto someone’s carpet, and we understand the dangers of exposure. You take your shoes off in January, you lose your toes. Frostbite is not a metaphor here.
Besides, the workplace is not your auntie’s living room. It is a shared space, and shared spaces require basic hygiene and boundaries. For centuries, shoes have been the invisible contract between us and the bacteria lurking on sidewalks, bathroom floors and yes, the light rail. The idea that removing them somehow makes us “freer” at work is Silicon Valley logic at its most deranged.
It starts with shoes. Then someone suggests pajama day. Next thing you know, Debbie from accounting is showing up in her Costco robe, and we’re all pretending this is cute rather than horrifying. I’ve seen enough human toes in my lifetime, thank you very much.
Now, I can hear the counterarguments already: But Ka, in many Asian households, shoes come off at the door. Yes. Correct. In homes. Where people are trusted to wash their feet and mop their floors. That doesn’t translate to an open-plan office where Steve from IT thinks “personal hygiene” means spritzing Axe body spray on his feet every other Tuesday.
Here’s what I find most telling: These companies think they’re solving the return-to-office dilemma by letting people ditch shoes. Workers aren’t reluctant to come back because of footwear. They’re reluctant because they’ve tasted freedom. They’ve worked from home in their stretchy pants with their dog curled up beside them, and they’ve realized that commuting two hours a day to sit under fluorescent lights is, in fact, bad for the soul. Shoes are not the problem. The problem is the office itself.
If Silicon Valley wants to get people excited about being in the office, they should try a different trend. How about shorter meetings? Or child care support? Or a schedule that doesn’t require employees to show up for the sake of being seen? Call me old-fashioned, but I’d rather wear shoes in a job that respects my time than bare feet in a job that doesn’t.
So, no. We don’t need this trend in Minnesota. Keep your feral feet at home. Wear socks if you must. Wear slippers if you’re bold. But for the love of health, hygiene and dignity, wear shoes to work.
Scientists know how smells get to your brain, but not as much about how they connect us to certain places or events from our past.