As a hospitality practitioner – a farm explorer and educator – in a country whose lifeline depends on trade and travel, the curbs that followed the invisible enemy that is COVID 19 ended an era of unencumbered mobility. The week after Singapore imposed it’s first “circuit breaker”– termed more commonly as a lock down in other countries – in April 2020, the atmosphere was surreal. Working in an essential service, I could leave my home for work but could hardly recognize my city: only a few cars cruised along expressways, normally ensnarled in traffic during morning peak hours, a handful of masked residents briskly walked past shuttered-up shopfronts in the heartlands, and park officers cordoned off recreational areas usually alive with evening banter and conviviality.
Besides physically distancing and isolating, we did not know how else to defend ourselves. It was intuitive to our survival instincts to comply with the draconian rules imposed overnight by our governments, but it came at a price that we are still paying a year and a half on lost trade and employment, lost connections and lives.
Prior to the COVID 19 pandemic, the food and tourism industry primed itself on physical experiences, large & small group gatherings, and intra- and international travel.
A regular day in the life of a farm educator would involve: shepherding pre-schoolers through our food forest, demonstrating the labours of rice planting to teenagers, sitting down with food tourists from near and far and exalting the sensory and spiritual pleasures of eating directly from the land.
When the invisible enemy rendered these excursions and soirees irresponsible, dangerous, and even deadly, the industry was at a loss. Stuck with large overheads, revealed empty spaces and idle workers, food and tourism businesses adapted. Food deliveries became a lifeline for restaurants, while virtual tours and other digital forms of entertainment flooded the scene. Our devices became an even-more indispensable interface between the world and us.
In this new normal, I see three trends defining the next decade of tourism: technology, domestication and democratisation. All of these will challenge traditional business models but will also bring above a wave of opportunities for new players. It would be the industry’s largest shake up since the advent of e-commerce and it could be good for both the economy and the environment in the long term.
Technology. With border restrictions fluctuating, we cannot depend solely on physical arrivals to physical sites. Operators will need to find ways to entertain people across distances and find opportunities to better utilize their large but emptier physical spaces. While seeing something virtually can never fully replace a physical experience, it breaks down national and physical barriers and enables more people to become virtual globetrotters. Even for experiences that remain physical, distancing rules demand that contact with service staff is limited and we will find many more instances of self-service. Traveling, if done at all, will become a lot less personal and could feel ironically isolating.
Domestication. In the absence of large numbers of international tourists – both leisure and business – tourism specialists will turn towards the domestic market. This will be challenging for many businesses, especially when the domestic markets are small, like in Singapore and other city-states. Domestication will increase the need for innovation and differentiation and we will see the importance of new and seasonal content increase. Offerings can no longer be static and such a requirement will compel businesses to be more nimble. Once vaccination rates are high and domestic activity increases, leisure events for the domestic market will drive the recovery of the tourism industry.
Democratization. As space becomes more of a liability than an asset in the post-COVID world, we will see its democratization. This is a clear silver lining to the new normal. Attractions and spaces that were once exclusive or expensive to access will open up to communities. We already see this happening – with the demand for real estate on a plateau or even on a downward trend, communities of artists, educators and re-generators can use spaces more freely and liberally. Many types of activities will coexist with corporate and economic life. Examples of this trend are urban gardens sprouting out from factories, art galleries in old power stations, and so on.
While it could sound condescending to businesses still struggling amid the pandemic, I see a bright future for the food and tourism industry in a post-COVID world. I see more engaged and appreciative patrons, people navigating social spaces after long periods of isolation. I see smaller but more varied and nimble businesses that put an emphasis on service and experience. Most of all, I see a cleaner planet and more favorable policies towards a more sustainable tourism, a much-needed reset for the only home we know.