Tourism That Matters

I didn’t begin my career in tourism. My early work was in economic development, often in places recovering from crisis or conflict, where traditional systems had broken down and the path forward was uncertain. In those environments, the question was never abstract. It was practical and urgent: how do you restart an economy when the old engines no longer function?

Again and again, tourism emerged as part of the answer. Not because it was simple or universally appropriate, but because it was often the most immediate tool available to communities working with the resources they already had. Tourism could begin with people, place, and culture, rather than waiting for large-scale capital investment or long industrial timelines. A modest intervention like a trail, a gathering place, or a reason to stay, could trigger networks of activity that supported small businesses, local employment, and a renewed sense of purpose.

I saw this clearly in the Balkans, in places like Serbia, where communities needed economic momentum far faster than factories or heavy infrastructure could provide. Tourism offered something unusually democratic: low barriers to entry, rapid job creation, and the ability to rebuild pride through the act of sharing a place with others. It was not a peripheral industry. It was a catalyst.

I encountered the same principle in very different form in Nunavut, where tourism was never about scale or volume, but about identity. The work there began not with market analysis, but with conversations among artists, elders, and cultural leaders who understood their land as something lived and remembered, not packaged. Strategy in that context meant helping translate cultural truth into development pathways others could understand and support, without eroding what made the place distinct. Tourism became a mechanism for cultural continuity as much as economic diversification.

In Abu Dhabi, tourism played yet another role. There, it became a way to rebalance an economy built on oil toward one rooted in culture, creativity, and global exchange. The early destination and cultural strategies reinforced a lesson I had seen elsewhere: tourism can drive growth without displacing identity, provided it is approached with intention and discipline.

These places could not be more different in geography, history, or ambition. Yet the lesson across all of them was consistent. Tourism is only worth pursuing if it benefits the communities in which it takes place. That belief underpins my work today and is the foundation of Tourism That Matters.

Over the years, I’ve watched destinations and travel organizations struggle with the same challenges. Many are ambitious and deeply committed to their places, but lack clear frameworks to connect vision to action. Some cannot afford large consultancies or one-size-fits-all master plans. Others have access to expertise but struggle to adapt it to local context. Strategy, in practice, is often treated as either inaccessible or abstract. It shouldn’t be either. Strategy is a discipline, and like any discipline, it can be learned, refined, and applied with rigor.

This work, through writing, advisory, and tools such as the Vibe Quotient, is an effort to make tourism strategy more accessible, more grounded in evidence and experience, and more accountable to the places it shapes. Tourism is not simply an economic sector. It intersects with housing, labor, public space, culture, and the everyday life of communities. It influences how residents experience their own place just as much as it shapes visitor perception.

When approached carelessly, tourism can erode trust, coherence, and belonging. When approached with intention, it can strengthen communities, protect what is worth preserving, and create prosperity that is broadly shared.

This blog, and the book behind it, are an invitation to think more clearly about the role tourism plays in shaping places, and to approach that responsibility with greater care. When we talk about strategy, we are not talking about a document. We are talking about a commitment to communities, to visitors, and to the futures we are collectively shaping.