I know this is not a technical article.
I've been leading remote teams for about three years. Productivity is fine. Everything ships. But if you've done this for a while, you've probably felt it too: something is off.
We're still working together.
Same company. Same meetings. Same tasks.
But we don't really know each other anymore.
And the strange part?
You don't notice it at first.
About 3 years ago, I started noticing it.
It was a farewell call. A teammate I had paired with for almost two years was leaving. He said, "You're all great to work with. I just wish I had actually gotten to know you."
I was working with people, mentoring, collaborating, everything was moving forward.
But something was missing.
The work was happening.
The relationship wasn't.
So I tried something simple.
I started inviting people I work with to my home.
I called it Turaç Meyhanesi (a Turkish-style long table gathering. Not just dinner, but hours of conversation, shared plates, and real human connection).
Sometimes we're 12 to 16 people.
How we fit into the house is a different story, my wife and I basically redesign the entire living room for the night.
But the point is not the food.
It's not the drinks.
It's this:
Bringing people back together as humans.
From time to time, I also invite people I deeply respect in the industry.
People I trust. People with real experience.
I want others to sit at the same table with them.
Not in a meeting.
Not in a presentation.
But in real life.
I've been lucky. Throughout my career I worked with directors and managers like Oguz Bayram, Cumhur Kizilari, Serkan Berksoy, Kaan Erdemir. What I learned from them, I try to carry to others—not just as knowledge, but as lived experience, as the humanity behind it.
While writing this and building Turaç Meyhanesi, my main inspiration was my dear wife and the friendships that grew out of her work circle—Gizem, Beril, Merve, Ezgi, Busem, Begum, Mert, Eda, Onur, Eylul, Omur, Aycan, and many other wonderful friends.
To observe how they think.
How they talk.
How they connect ideas.
Something interesting happens at that table.
If Anıl is there, I don't touch the wine selection.
Because for him, choosing wine is not just a choice. It's a story.
He talks about the grapes, where they're grown, the notes, why that bottle fits that moment.
And every single time, the choice is spot on.
Ertun shows up with small surprises.
Burak brings unexpected topics into the conversation.
These are not small details.
These are how people learn.
And this is where it gets uncomfortable.
Because none of this happens on Zoom.
Not on Slack.
Not in Notion.
Not with "camera on."
Remote work doesn't kill communication.
It kills connection.
It removes those small, unplanned interactions where culture actually forms.
Where trust builds.
Where people become more than roles.
Instead, work slowly becomes this: Tickets. Meetings. Updates. Outputs. Everything moves. Everything looks efficient.
But something important disappears:
The feeling of being part of something.
And then we ask: "Will AI replace us?"
I think that's the wrong question.
The real question is:
If we're already just task partners, what exactly makes us irreplaceable?
If your presence in a company is reduced to:
- closing tickets
- joining meetings
- writing updates
- producing output
AI is already getting very good at that.
Sometimes more consistent.
Sometimes more aligned.
Sometimes even easier to work with.
Here's the uncomfortable truth:
AI won't visit you in the hospital.
It won't show up at your funeral.
It won't sit next to you when you're having a bad day.
But let's be honest…
Most of the people you work with remotely won't either.
Because you don't really have a relationship.
You have a task partnership.
That's the real risk.
Not technical replacement.
Cultural replacement.
Technical replacement is when AI writes the code or closes the ticket. Cultural replacement is when the team is already just a workflow, so swapping a person for a tool doesn't feel like a loss.
If there's no human connection, the system doesn't lose much when it replaces you.
Because what you bring is already reduced to output.
This is why I care about Turaç Meyhanesi.
It's not dinner.
It's not networking.
It's not team bonding.
It's a small, intentional attempt to rebuild something remote work quietly removes: human connection.
I'm not against remote work.
I still prefer it.
But I don't think we can treat it as "free."
If you remove physical proximity, you need to replace it with something.
Otherwise, what you get is not a remote-first culture.
It's an office-less workflow system.
Remote teams do not only need better tools.
They need better rituals.
Because culture is not created in dashboards, tickets, or weekly updates.
It is created in repeated human moments.
It doesn't have to be a dinner at my place. It can be a monthly call with no agenda and cameras on. It can be saving the last ten minutes of retro to ask what you learned from someone, not what you shipped. It can be a simple rule that every new hire gets three non-work questions before any work questions.
My solution is simple.
Maybe too simple.
I set a table.
I bring people together.
And I try to remind everyone, including myself, of something very basic:
Humans still grow through other humans.
If you're building remote teams, maybe the real question is not: "How do we stay productive?"
But: "Where do people actually connect?"
Because if the answer is "nowhere"…
Then the system will eventually stop needing people.
Some evenings from Turaç Meyhanesi
The table I wrote about. Not a setup, just an intention to bring people together.
Top comments (0)