Bashar Wali’s viral LinkedIn post on “Hospitality Joy” is the kind of piece that gets passed around boardrooms and leadership conferences. It’s beautifully written, full of passion and big ideas about culture and human connection. And in many ways, he’s right. But as someone who’s worked the line—who’s folded napkins while hungover, calmed brides mid-meltdown, and, yes, cleaned up things no human should have to clean—I found myself nodding along until reality kicked in. Because here’s the truth: Joy isn’t the foundation of hospitality. Applied Skills and Taking care of those who create the joy is.
Wali’s core argument is sound. The best hotel memories are human moments—the concierge who remembers your name, the bartender who laughs at your terrible joke, the housekeeper who leaves your pillow just perfect. These aren’t transactions; they’re connections. And when they work, they’re magic. He’s also right that culture beats spreadsheets. No guest ever raved about a perfectly balanced Profit &Loss statement. They rave about the feeling they had at two in the morning when the night manager fixed their problem without making them feel stupid.
But here’s where the theory stumbles. Wali’s vision assumes joy is a choice. It isn’t. Not when you’re on your eleventh straight hour because the new scheduling software cut labor costs. Not when a guest screams at you for a reservation error that a corporate pricing algorithm caused. Not when your “employee wellness program” consists of a free yoga class but no health insurance. Passion doesn’t pay rent. And “fun” is easy to preach when you’re not the one fielding TripAdvisor tantrums for fifteen dollars an hour.
The industry has a bad habit of using “passion” as a wage suppression tool, as cover for poor training, and as an excuse for workplaces where managers often lack empathy and solid skills . It’s easy for leaders like corporate raider BarrySternlicht to make statements like: “If you’re not having fun, you shouldn’t be in the business. But they’ve never worked Christmas dinner service—when the cooks walked out and remaining management served cold cuts to hundred of guests who had paid for “Baked Alaska”. That Wali quotes Sternlicht speaks volumes: he’s chosen a camp. Corporate. Not the Operation Managers, who battle daily crises, certainly not the line cook with dishpan hands. Hoteliers feel the heft of a perfectly turned bed; investors only see the spreadsheet beneath it. And don’t get me started on the human wreckage of their leveraged buyouts—each ‘financial innovation’ just another way to squeeze juice from hospitality’s stone.
I once mentored a front desk agent—let’s call her Ana—who had more guest commendations than anyone in the hotel. She spoke three languages, mastered every system, and could calm a raging guest with just her voice. After three years, (her nametag still said:Trainee), she quit for a bank job. Not because she lost her passion. Because passion didn’t cover her student loans. – No hospitality joy for her.
Then there was Ibrahim—my potwash-to-front-office mentee, who earned three promotions through sheer competence and hard work. Until the day corporate H.R. decided the property needed to “Up diversity quotas” and handed his well-deserved promotion to a younger female colleague—probably someone’s niece or sorority sister if we’re being honest. How very modern of them. Nothing says “equity” like watching your best people walk out the door while checking diversity boxes.
If we genuinely want joy in hospitality, we must build the conditions for it. Operators must tie leadership bonuses to retention metrics, publish clear promotion timelines, and ensure every manager has done the jobs they oversee. No one should direct housekeeping who hasn’t stripped a bloodied bed. For those grinding it out, soft skills must be treated as hard currency. Track guest compliments like sales numbers, master one profit center cold, and job-hop strategically. Loyalty pays only when reciprocated. Wali is right about the destination. The path, however, requires operators who invest as hard as they inspire and workers who harness their passion instead of being consumed by it. True hospitality joy isn’t charity—it’s the ROI of respect earned and wages paid.
Hospitality joy isn’t a joyride and it is definely not free. If you do it right, plan right, work hard and stay tuned, it will be the greatest adventure of your life. But at the end of the day, it is what’s left on the table – after respect and fair pay take their cut. I own Hilton shares. A relic from ’86, when Barron himself handed them out to all supervisory and management staff. Like bandages – after the two month long 1986 NYC strike” . They still pay me today and have kept me a loyal Hilton man. Not sure, if the company still rewards regular employees with stock. If they do, they should not have labor shortages. HLT Closed yesterday at $248,88, slightly down from its High of $ 276 dollars. This is what gives me and those who received them Joy. Few rewards in my 40 career can match this one. Anything less is just poetry.
This old photo shows the day at the Waldorf Astoria, when I became the proud owner of 50 Hilton shares. Their value back then was $57.– and I was one of the Food & Beverage outlet managers. If you know the company that still rewards outlet managers with real share bonus. Tell me and I will write about them and solve their labor shortage problem within a few months.
My purpose remains to tell young hoteliers all I know about our industry. The good and the bad. And …. getting rid of the fairy tales.
Helmut H Meckelburg