Kegs, Climbing, Kombucha: This Is Co-Working Now
WeWorkfs success has spawned new boutique spaces to help you find your gauthentic self.h
August 16, 2016 - Bloomberg
Rebecca Greenfield
Itfs around 1 ofclock on a recent Monday afternoon, and I walk
30 seconds from my desk to a locker room, change into leggings and a
sweatproof tank top, grab a yoga mat, and start meditating in a studio with
three other women. gForget about deadlines,h the instructor tells us. gForget
about the looming appointments and assignments.h Ifm trying, but itfs hard: My
desk is so close, I could hear my phone if it rang. After an hour of stretching,
posing, and not forgetting about deadlines, I put my work clothes back on; soon
Ifm tapping away again at my laptop. Itfs a normal afternoon at Primary, a new
co-working space in downtown Manhattan. For $300 a month, I can grab a
$10 green juice after a midday vinyasa flow class just feet from where I
manage the flow of my in-box.
This is what co-working looks like in 2016, half a decade after the first
shared spaces popped up. WeWork, which popularized the model, opened its first
location in SoHo in 2010 to fill commercial buildings in the recession. Now itfs
worth more than $16 billion (an internal financial review in April slashed 2016
profit and revenue forecasts). Deskmag—yes, the industry has its own
trade magazine—estimates there will be 10,000 co-working spaces worldwide by
yearend: If you live in a second- or third-tier city, and therefs no yoga at
yours yet, stay tuned. Manhattan alone devotes more than 5 million square
feet to the collectives, according to real estate services firm Cushman &
Wakefield; and in San Francisco, therefs been 300,000 sq. ft. of co-working
space leased since mid-2014, reports JLL, another real estate services company.
gThe industry has gone crazy. Co-working used to be an office phenomenon. Now
itfs tech shops, makerspaces, bio labs, community kitchens, and car-fixing
places,h says Steve King of small business consulting firm Emergent Research in
Lafayette, Calif. gYou can find shared workspaces for almost any kind of
work.h
And any niche interest. When WeWork was the only player, kegs were enough to
get people in the door because, hey, free booze. Today therefs much more
differentiation. At Primary, the emphasis is on wellness: exercise programs,
kombucha and healthy snacks, and succulents and ivies trailing vines across
tabletops, because I guess healthy people are into plants. The purported benefit
of these quirks? Community! Which is what we seem comfortable substituting for a
life outside the workplace. It appears that wefre entering the work-life
singularity, and wefre going to love it one green juice at a time. As James
OfReilly, 33, a founding partner of NeueHouse, a high-end co-working space in
Manhattan, says, gPeople are happiest when their work can live in their lives
more comfortably, when itfs something they donft have to isolate.h To put it
another way, co-working spaces have become self-selecting worlds where an
entrepreneur can be her gauthentic self,h says Gretchen Spreitzer, a professor
at the University of Michiganfs Ross School of Business who studies how
organizations help employees thrive.
Ifm spending a week testing out co-working spaces in New York to try to find
my authentic self. Primary, an urban hippie dreamscape, is my first stop. gWe
are catering our experience to a different demographic than WeWork,h says
co-founder Lisa Skye Hain, 39, who has the glowing skin and sun-kissed hair
found only in vitamin ads. gFor me it was about eHow do I make it slightly
different?f h The Wi-Fi password at Primary is FEELGREAT.
Coworkrs, my next destination, helps you live your best Brooklyn life. gOur
idea is trying to infuse the neighborhood in the space,h says co-founder Shlomo
Silber, 32. That starts at the front desk, where the Coworkrs motto, gAt Home at
Work,h is hand-painted on a made-to-look-artisanal wooden sign. Elsewhere in the
three-story former tile factory in the industrial Gowanus neighborhood are
exposed timber beams, distressed cement walls, a staircase made of steel slabs,
and art that looks like Banksy snuck in to paint. For a Brooklyn gentrifier like
me, it feels like home, or at least like the aspirational home-goods store down
the street.
Silberfs neighborhood-infusion strategy is smart. People working in these
spaces told me they choose one based on proximity to home since commutes are a
time suck that cuts mostly into leisure hours. Often their goal is just to get
out of the house. Commandeering a table at your local coffee shop used to be the
way to do this. It was cheaper. A day pass to Coworkrs costs $40, about the same as
10 cold-brew coffees. But unlike at Starbucks, there are plenty of outlets,
privacy, and open seats. Plus, therefs yoga on one roof deck and a garden on the
other.
Despite potential distractions, most people I met at co-working spaces spend
their time doing actual work. Thatfs the case at my next locale, Study Hall,
which is aimed at freelance writers. The Gowanus spot is one room with two
wooden-slab tables that sit six people each. A couple of desks are shoved
against a wall. Extension cords snake along the floor. Itfs among a handful of
single-profession spaces: Rough Draft caters to designers, Rise attracts fintech
companies, and the Farm focuses on wellness technology startups. gNot to brag,
but we actually provide community,h says Peter Moskowitz, 28, who co-founded
Study Hall with freelancer Kyle Chayka (who has written for Bloomberg Businessweek). It cost about
$6,000 to get the location going, Moskowitz says. gThe idea of working next to
some tech guy doesnft do anything for me. I would have nothing to talk to him
about. We want to talk to other journalists.h
Working at Study Hall is like hanging out with co-workers at Bloomberg
headquarters, which is to say therefs real work involved. At the crack of
11 a.m., other writers trickle in, and we talk shop. One reporter gives
another a potential lead on a story in Orlando in the wake of the nightclub
massacre. gWefre all engaged in the same professional stuff. We can help each
other,h Moskowitz says. Except that most of the time, Study Hallers sit silent,
headphones on. Despite all the talk of community, in my week inhabiting
co-working spaces, I observed little human interaction. Whenever I point this
out, evangelists mention in-house events organized by what are referred to as
community managers. Study Hall has Q&As with authors. Primary holds
breakfasts with nutritionists. NeueHouse has movie screenings with Meg
Ryan.
At another neighborhood-themed space, the Yard, people drink. One evening I
head to a Negroni-making class on the roof of the Lower East Side location,
which caters to the party-going types who tend to live in the area. (The
Yard has nine spots in New York; a 10th, in Philadelphia, is coming soon.) About
50 people, almost all younger than 35, are there. Channing James, a bartender at
restaurateur David Changfs Momofuku Ko, begins with a lesson. gCan anyone tell
me what gin is?h he asks. gAlcohol!h respond two women. They grab a Beefeater
bottle and pose for an Instagram photo. gEverybody say, eAlcoholics
Anonymous,f h says the man taking the pic. They oblige. gIfm drunk!h one
says.
Less than 10 minutes later, having assembled our bright red drinks with
orange twists, we mingle. Itfs as fun as any happy hour with colleagues. The
galcohol!h women make conversation with strangers, but theyfre community
managers—being friendly is the job. Half the people I talk to donft even co-work
at the Yard. Theyfre friends of members and came for a drink on a Manhattan
rooftop on a hot summer night. Ken Zamkow, the founder of Sports Guru, a video
startup, says he looked at 14 spaces before landing here. He lives in the area,
but he says another consideration was more important: gSome places donft allow
dogs.h
The last stop on my tour, the Queens outpost of Brooklyn Boulders, isnft even
a proper office. Itfs a rock-climbing gym with desks. (It also has locations in
Chicago, Somerville, Mass., and, uh, Brooklyn.) After members started
networking, the founders walled off space for tables, chairs, and a printer.
Co-working, like access to the sauna, is an amenity that comes with the
$115-per-month climbing fee. On a Friday afternoon, about a half-dozen people in
workout clothes type on laptops on a platform overlooking fake boulders. Music
blasts. Kids run around. I canft get anything done, but two women who work for
Perfumer & Flavorist magazine appear to be having more success.
When they need a break, they climb.
gWefll do half an hour of climbing, 20 minutes of work,h says Paige
Crist, 38, who has on yoga pants and a muscle shirt. gIf we have a problem, we
take it to the wall. You climb it out, and you come back with a fresh
perspective.h Do their bosses mind that they spend more than half the day not
working? gIf we werenft exceeding expectations, theyfd probably not be cool with
it,h Crist says, laughing.
Itfs nice work, if you can get it. I donft climb, but I do yoga, and when Ifm
talking to Crist, I think back to my midday vinyasa class at Primary. I loved
it, even though I spent an extra hour at my desk. And though it didnft
necessarily clear my head, it was a welcome break from e-mailing. Many of the
people I talk to at Brooklyn Boulders spend way more than nine hours at what is
essentially their office. They climb and work and work and climb until midnight.
I ask Crist when her workday ends. gItfs just when you get to a good stopping
point,h she says. gIfm usually never done working.h