I'm back in Costa Rica after my trip to Bonito, Brazil, where I was invited to AdventureELEVATE Latin America 2025, organized by ATTA (Adventure Travel Trade Association). This time, the organization asked me to speak about mass tourism and sustainability—a topic as uncomfortable as it is urgent. Because yes, it is our industry that creates it… and therefore, it is also our responsibility to address it.
But rather than offering a technical diagnosis, I’d like to invite you to humanize this issue. What do I mean by that? We often forget that there are people behind every marketing strategy, every promotion, every experience sold, every tourist, and every service provider. And those people—us—are the ones who design, decide, and act, always trying, as best we can, to meet a need.
This is precisely what Dr. Marshall Rosenberg, creator of Nonviolent Communication (NVC), proposes—a methodology I’ll use as a framework to approach this issue for what it really is: a difficult conversation.
Why a Difficult Conversation?
Because mass tourism is a complex, multifactorial phenomenon. And because it requires us to truly listen and sustain a conversation with attention, where the key actors are communities that have been displaced, governments in need of immediate income and stretched resources, operators who must sell to stay in business and pay salaries, and tourists arriving with expectations fueled by social media and the famous FOMO (fear of missing out).
The hardest part of this message is not its content—it’s our ability to tolerate the discomfort that arises when we hear the unmet needs of others, often expressed in a tone that isn’t kind or pleasant. Are we willing to hear this message?
The Scenario
Let’s imagine the context where this conversation unfolds.
The community is angry and exhausted. It no longer welcomes tourists and has lost all trust in them—and especially in those who should have cared for the balance. They offer poor service; some even throw water at visitors to drive them away. They’re fed up, and the media reflects this. Between the lines, we read: “Tourism is to blame.”
Meanwhile, the tourism business keeps receiving requests from clients eager to visit the destination during peak season. It’s their best-selling package, and canceling or reducing it would mean losing crucial income needed to pay salaries, taxes, and sustain the business’s profitability.
The local government, in turn, collects tax revenues but also faces an angry, distrustful, and increasingly vocal community. It doesn’t know how to respond without jeopardizing either the local economy or its political capital.
This is the general context involving three main actors—knowing there are many more—but we simplify it here for the sake of this exercise.
Framing the Conversation with NVC
Let’s look at how we can use Nonviolent Communication as a methodology for constructive dialogue.
Step 1: Observe Without Judgment
When the tourism supply chain heavily promotes a destination, pressure on essential services (water, transportation, infrastructure) skyrockets. Waste, noise, and the cost of living for local residents increase.
Step 2: Name the Feelings
Imagine how a community feels when their space is suddenly overrun. Perhaps frustrated, angry, disappointed, insecure, demotivated. Have we ever felt this ourselves?
Step 3: Recognize the Needs
Behind these emotions lie universal, unmet needs within communities: justice, recognition, respect, belonging, cooperation, space, safety, and support.
Let’s pause for a moment… and consider how the tourism sector receives this message. Think for a second about how we, as tourism professionals, feel when reading news headlines like:
- “Many parasites brought us to this point—so don’t come.”
- “Mass tourism angers residents of Sóller.”
- “Ibiza joins European protests demanding limits on tourism.”
As a tourism professional, these headlines make me feel sad—even angry. I feel the urge to defend myself, even if I’m not directly involved in that specific market. Why? Because my own needs for recognition, justice, support, and belonging are also at play.
And this leads to something fundamental: we realize that communities, the tourism sector, and local governments all need the same things.
As Rosenberg says:
“All human actions are attempts to meet universal human needs.”
What sets us apart is not our needs—but the strategies we use to meet them.
Step 4: Make a Request
Can we build requests that open the door to shared, co-created solutions?
Let’s imagine for a moment that these actors sit at the table with the community. And let’s make a request:
To a cruise company:
- Could you limit the number of people disembarking at the same time?
- Could you diversify excursions to reduce congestion at the most visited sites?
- Could you educate travelers about their impact and promote respectful behavior?
To a local government:
- Could you establish clear limits based on the destination’s carrying capacity?
- Is it possible to manage land use without compromising the destination’s identity and quality?
- Could you empower the local community through joint chambers or dialogue tables?
To hoteliers:
- Are you willing to prioritize local suppliers or contribute to environmental regeneration programs?
- Could you rethink your practices to better integrate with the community?
To the community:
- Would you be willing to participate proactively in local committees to follow up on agreements?
- Could you agree to address problems internally before turning to the press?
- Would you share the joint initiatives established at the table to promote social responsibility among other businesses?
- Would you participate in training workshops to help promote a sustainable tourism destination?
Bridging the Distance Through Dialogue
Difficult conversations are uncomfortable. For those listening, they may feel like unfair criticism. For those speaking, they involve vulnerability, taking risks, and accepting a possible “no.” But if we approach them with empathy, something unlocks: a new space of clarity, connection, and possibility opens.
Finding sustainable solutions where everyone wins and value is created requires dialogue. But not just any dialogue—dialogue that is nonviolent, that connects, and that is built on truth and mutual respect.
Avoiding these conversations only deepens the divide. As Peter Bromberg said:
“When we avoid difficult conversations, we trade the discomfort of the moment for long-term dysfunction.”
So, what do we choose? Comfortable silence or a conversation that can transform?
I hope this reflection helps us grow our willingness to engage in these difficult conversations—with communities, governments, and tourism businesses—so that, as part of the problem, we also become co-creators of the solution.
Only then can we regenerate broken spaces and build truly sustainable destinations.