Bashar Wali’s recent post is emotional, heartfelt, and full of good intentions. But it doesn’t sit right with me. I am not getting it out of my head.
Not because I don’t value presence, empathy, or joy—I do. Deeply. But when influencers, or “THOUGHTLEADERS” as they call themselves now, make statements and give a one-sided or simplified version of our profession, I have to speak up. Not for my benefit but for that of young hoteliers, those who are just starting out. And they must be given a proper description. They need to know.
Hospitality isn’t a mindfulness retreat. It’s a pressure-cooker business that demands systems, precision, resilience, and fast decision-making.
My career spans 40 years. Across continents. Cultures. Crises. Guests arrive with needs, expectations—and zero tolerance for failure. Joy? Presence? Try delivering that when the A/C dies at 2 AM. Or when the banquet kitchen floods one hour before 400 guests arrive.
When a hurricane wipes out your supply chain and the power grid overnight. When 180 guests are trapped in a burning casino—doors chained shut by arsonists. Or, in the most brutal case, when terrorists storm the lobby and open fire.
We hoteliers aren’t therapists. We’re crisis professionals—with no hazard pay. We’re quality designers, high pressure operators. And often—very often—ordinary hotel staff become extraordinary people when disaster strikes. I don’t use the word “hero” lightly. But if we speak of passion, we must also speak of sacrifice, suffering—and yes, heroism.
We juggle empathy with execution. Soul with structure. Heart with hustle. Yes, I believe in the emotional return on investment. I also believe in rewards and recognition! More often than not a real one is not given. Few companies stand out. IHCL and Hilton where the ones for me.
But let’s be honest—fires, floods, earthquakes, tsunamis, strikes, non stop smiles? They’re not in the job description. Yet they come included—no pay, no warning. Many of my former colleagues, like Karambir Kang or Bruke Thompson at the Dupont Plaza fire paid a hefty price. Karambir lost his family and Bruke lost his life. Even though I have experienced fires, floodings,hurricanes and earthquakes firsthand, I got thru these disasters unharmed, nevertheless, these disasters shape mindsets.
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Every step of the way in every event, it was mostly line employees and middle managers who were first on location. Due to my Live-In status, I can say with confidence that all of them—without exception—gave their best in the most challenging circumstances: evacuating guests, providing first aid before any ambulance arrived, or attempting to put out fires. Some had unique ideas and quick solutions that made a real difference.
In most of the hotels, I managed, we implemented unscheduled emergency drills every other month. No warning. No scripts. Just a sudden call to action. This practice sharpened instincts, reduced hesitation, and revealed natural leaders on every shift. When the real emergencies came, it showed. They acted fast, calm, and focused. Rehearsal built confidence. Confidence saved lives.
Then came COVID. And many companies—maybe not maliciously, but conveniently— “optimized” costs while preaching resilience and keep rehearsing the “We are a family” choir.
And now, there’s Starwood Barry’s quote about who should and shouldn’t work in hotels. I doubt he ever ran a fundamental hotel shift or made beds for at least 5 hours in one run. Acquiring hotels through leveraged buyouts is not hospitality—it’s financial engineering. Thousands of kids lost their jobs in those deals. No pretty headlines. So why celebrate his name?
These experiences don’t just teach you. They shape you. They make you a hotelier. One that has been tested again and again.
But know this:Not everyone has the emotional makeup to thrive in an industry known for underpaying—and often overusing—its people.
And if you’re not built for it, it’s merciless. Hospitality is not scented candles.It’s courage, empathy, control, and consistency—delivered with an unpaid smile.New generations enter this industry every year. We owe them honesty. Not everyone will make it. But for those who feel called—and accept the challenge—there’s no greater school of life.I’ve walked that path.
Today, I help others do the same. Not how to do the job—but preparing them for what the job can do to you and master its challenges.
Not Wali’s quote is true—but incomplete.
Passion is the fuel. But too many young hoteliers crash because no one taught them how to steer. That’s why I had to write this follow-up—to finish the conversation and say what others won’t. We hear about five-star openings, shiny titles, and stardom in suits. But not about the bruises.
Not the lost chances. Not the doors that never opened—because no one showed them how. To guide young hoteliers before the fall. To warn them of the traps—and help them climb out when it’s already too late. That’s why I do this. I’ve walked that road. Taken the hits. Still standing. That’s not luck. That’s experience. If you’re serious about your career—read the book. Sign up. Reach out. Because there aren’t many like me left. And even fewer who still give a damn.
Helmut H Meckelburg