Would you run an imperial court remote? A monastery? An academy? One thousand burping distractoids smudged cheeto crumbs on iphones will lose in every lifetime to putting exactly one dozen men in a server room with locked doors and the heat steaming up. Great ventures—the company, the nation-state—will go fully virtual when embodied AR/VR becomes the standard mode of computing for the same reason it will also be the majority of socialization, entertainment, love and heartbreak. And at that point, you're going to be remote working into the a robot service secretary manning on the front-doors of an infinite jade lobby from a mud nomad's centipede hut on fractional wages because you didn't get the memo to get off the couch before the world's end 2030. Or baking somewhere on cracked mud under the sun sipping on UN electrolytes after 99th percentile of the population gets deported into a flood zone. You have 3 years max. PANIC.