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Evening Standard
Evening Standard
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Anne McElvoy

Britain’s top brass is treating August more like the French

Thrifty staycation or exotic vacation — how long is your summer getaway? I only ask because as August torpor settles over London, an increasing number of the capital’s top business folk and creatives are to be found on a Zoom call from Tuscany — if they are available at all. “I will be out of office until the end of August,” reads one message in my inbox, which is at least honest about the intention to ditch the day job for a month by the pool.

Contracts for top managers now often include a clause saying that the lucky boss will work from “somewhere” this month or be “on call if needed”, which leaves the tantalising question “for what?” hanging in the air.

The prized British summer 10 days or fortnight away is turning into an elastic affair. Half of Brits, according to Travel Weekly, were planning two or more holidays in 2022 (and politicians of all parties have been keen to hit the tarmac — even if they earn brickbats for the pleasure; both the PM and the leader of the Opposition opted to holiday abroad this year).

Economic gloom and rising short-haul prices (£300 to secure a one-way flight back from Berlin recently) have taken ambition out of the mix and long-haul trips will immolate your income even faster than the impending energy squeeze. Yet still financially-secure Londoners are disappearing for longer periods. The end of last week effectively marked the dead end of the social season — with a lot less guilt or coyness about not showing up again until there is an R in the month.

Working from home has changed expectations that the background on a call matters; we’ve seen everything from palatial gardens to cramped bathrooms and wandering toddlers. I still treasure the meeting of a charities board last summer, in which one trustee was clearly in his country house — with a very fine Dutch master in the shot. Wet hair or a spouse in swimming gear is also a giveaway that the alarm to take the monthly stats on the Asia markets update interrupted the afternoon splash.

Does it matter? Productivity hawks, including the Governor of the Bank of England, might remind us that the legal minimum of vacation in the UK adds up to well over 80 million unproductive days. But many of us are simply joining Europeans in the diehard belief that as the mercury rises, work rates should fall.

Before immigration became such an issue, German car companies used to import Italian workers to fill the Sommerloch (summer recess) in the workforce to keep production belting out cars. France has long treated August working as a largely absentee project, with la rentrée in early September marking the national re-gathering. And — for a convenient counter-example to offer a Calvinist boss on the productivity stats — France still fares well, despite slacking off for so long.

Naturally, we prefer to foreground the psychological benefits to the sacrifices — the relief from grinding routine, to-do lists and a calendar filled with Zooms. But research on the benefits of holidays from a Finnish university suggests we take more “micro holidays” and switch on the out of office message from the moment we leave the (virtual) office to the day we return.

“Checking in” is apparently as disruptive to Vacation Recovery Syndrome (I made that one up) as settling back into a task list. Apparently it fires up our work adrenaline at the expense of relaxing the mind to think more creatively. But if you’re locking your London doors for a long stint, take comfort — someone you know is heading off for a lot longer.

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