The same research found women were more likely to report that mandatory office attendance would significantly increase commuting costs, and that those costs would meaningfully affect their finances. In a cost-of-living crisis, where childcare bills and transport fares are already doing the most, return-to-office mandates start to look less like cultural preferences and more like a stealth pay cut.

Of course, the conversation rarely uses that language. Flexibility is still framed as a perk — something that can be traded, negotiated, or revoked. But perks don’t usually come with financial penalties when they’re removed. Flexibility does.

Then there’s the matter of visibility. As offices refill, so does an old workplace habit: proximity bias — the unspoken belief that people who are physically present are more committed, more ambitious, more promotable. Employment experts have warned that this bias is creeping back into performance reviews and promotion decisions, even when output hasn’t changed.

This matters because women are more likely to continue prioritising flexible work — not out of preference, but out of necessity. Caring responsibilities haven’t disappeared just because the office lights are back on. When visibility becomes currency again, women are more likely to pay for flexibility with slower progression, fewer leadership opportunities, and, ultimately, lower pay.

We’ve seen this pattern before. Women are already more likely to work part-time or take career breaks, routes that remain stubbornly linked to lower pay and limited advancement. Hybrid work briefly offered an alternative: a way to stay full-time, stay visible enough, and stay in the running. Rolling it back narrows that path again.

The timing couldn’t be worse. The UK has recently recorded its lowest ranking in a decade among leading economies for workplace gender equality. Progress on pay, leadership representation and participation has stalled. Against that backdrop, return-to-office policies risk undoing one of the few changes that actually moved the needle — not because it was perfect, but because it acknowledged reality.

Flexibility was never about yoga at lunchtime or logging off early. It was about who gets to stay in the room — metaphorically and literally — when work is designed around an outdated idea of availability. When flexibility is withdrawn, the cost doesn’t fall evenly. It lands on women’s pay packets, career trajectories and long-term security.

So yes, offices matter. Culture matters. Collaboration matters. But pretending that return-to-office policies are neutral is a convenient fiction. Flexibility was never a perk. It was a pay issue — and we’re only just starting to see the bill.