February 17th marks World Tourism Resilience Day, a date that may go unnoticed by many, but for those who know the sector from the inside, it represents much more than a symbolic milestone. It speaks of adaptability, strategic vision, and above all, responsibility. Tourism has been repeatedly put to the test—economic crises, pandemics, climate change, geopolitical instability. But true resilience is not just about surviving these challenges; it's about transforming how we operate so that the future is not only possible, but fairer, more sustainable, and more humane. And it is precisely here that sustainability ceases to be a trend and becomes a requirement of integrity.
I often say that working in the tourism sector means dealing with a paradox every day: we are an industry that creates memorable experiences and connects people to the world, but also one of the biggest contributors to global environmental pressure. There's no point in sugarcoating this. The footprint begins the moment a guest boards a plane and extends to the last kilowatt consumed in a hotel, passing through hundreds of suppliers, transport, packaging, meals, and waste that sustain our operation. To pretend that sustainability is a footnote would be, at the very least, intellectually dishonest. In the hospitality sector, it is absolutely central.
Michael Porter's theory of shared value frames this challenge well. The idea that economic value must coexist with social and environmental value is not corporate romanticism; it's strategic logic. In our sector, there is no lasting financial result if we ignore the impact we generate. The dual materiality makes this point even more evident: everything we do affects the world, and the state of the world directly affects the future of our organizations. It's an inevitable cycle—and, for me, also a call to responsibility.
This is why, in a modern hotel organization, the Sustainability Department is neither a luxury nor a fad—it's a functional and strategic necessity. Demanding that all employees organically and systematically integrate sustainability principles into already complex processes would be inhumane and operationally unfeasible. The department exists to complement, guide, and elevate operations. It ensures certifications, defines robust KPIs, manages waste with scientific criteria, promotes the circular economy, trains teams, and, perhaps most importantly, prevents the temptation of greenwashing. As an investor, manager, or leader, nothing irritates me more than beautiful declarations that don't materialize into solid practices. Credibility is a valuable currency—and difficult to recover once lost.
Among the issues that most affect me is food waste. Not only because of its environmental and financial impacts, but also because of its moral dimension. It's common to hear the phrase "leftovers can be donated," and naturally, donation is positive. But it's important to remember that for leftovers to exist, there was first waste—and that means resources, work, time, and unused food. In our sector, wasted food is wasted money, but it's also a symbol of inequality in a world where, paradoxically, there are still those who don't have enough to eat. Combating waste requires metrics, intelligent processes, involved teams, and operational discipline. And above all, it requires collective awareness.
Another unavoidable point is the value chain, as reinforced by SDG 12b. Hotel companies cannot limit themselves to verifying what happens within their walls; they must control and be accountable for what they buy. Green procurement is not a "nice" expression—it is an ethical and strategic filtering method. Evaluating suppliers based on ESG criteria requires courage and rigor. And, for me, this evaluation must go even deeper: it is not enough to analyze the product or the process; it is essential to directly question governance. Are the shareholders of this company aligned with sustainability? How is this proven? A supplier is only truly sustainable when its decision-making structure is also sustainable.
Sustainability, however, is not just environmental. It is also human. At NEYA Hotels, the Solidarity Room project perfectly illustrates this dimension: using our own resources — rooms, teams, accommodation capacity — to respond to urgent social situations. It is a simple and powerful example of how the hotel industry can be an active agent of transformation. Within teams, the principles of diversity, equity, and inclusion are not mere slogans. It has been widely demonstrated that diverse teams are more innovative, more effective, and more resilient. Diversity improves decision-making, strengthens internal culture, and increases competitiveness. It is not a favor — it is a strategic advantage.
Finally, it's worth remembering that sustainability is also a tangible financial asset. With the requirements of the European Banking Authority and the growing focus of banks on increasing their Green Asset Ratio, truly sustainable projects attract better financing conditions. Financial institutions seek reliable, transparent partners aligned with the climate transition. Those who invest in sustainability simultaneously invest in long-term financial stability.
And this brings us back to World Tourism Resilience Day: resilience is not passive resistance; it is active transformation. It is the ability to look at the sector, recognize its impacts, and have the courage to do things differently. This is what drives me as a shareholder of NEYA Hotels. We do all this—and much more—because we believe that the hotel industry cannot simply be about "selling for the sake of selling." It must be an engine of positive impact, capable of facing challenges head-on and contributing to a more responsible, more solid tourism sector, more aligned with what the future demands of us.
