This just in: Locals hate tourists. Not really a groundbreaking idea, is it? One study released by Miles Partnership examined the sentiments in a survey. 50% of locals nationwide think that tourists are not respectful of the local community. There are worries about overcrowding, dangers to culture, and congestion. No surprises there. But people also increasingly recognize how important tourism is to our economy. So what do we do?
When you think of tourism, you might think of excess. Tourists are the kind of people who stuff their suitcases, who hog up the economy and the news cycle, who take all the parking or spots at the beach or reservations at the sleek new restaurants. Or they crowd the escalator on Bart or get in the way walking down a sidewalk with their rolly suitcases.
And tourism as an industry has traditionally also focused on the idea of “more.” We want more foot traffic, or more beds sold in a season, or more flights coming in. Only recently has the idea of destination management become formulated.
The pandemic gave travel a beating. Now the industry is taking a beat, unpacking what it means to responsibly steward a place. In the last few years we’ve seen horrific urban wildfires in Hawaii and Southern California that made it hard to ignore a simple fact. These postcard destinations are much more than that. They’re birthplaces, neighborhoods, homes.
Both the pandemic and the effects of natural disaster multiplied something that was already a burgeoning viewpoint: Destination Management, an approach to making sure the locals are involved in the discussion from the beginning.
In a recent webinar by Miles Partnership, a speaker who championed the Lake Tahoe Destination Stewardship Plan explained how rethinking consumption and reframing being a temporary guest has helped a sensitive environment feel more responsible.
Tahoe is tricky. The lake itself is one of the coolest parts of California because of its biodiversity, pristine waters, and magnificence. It’s 22 miles long and 12 miles wide, a massive crystalline mirror that reflects the greatest things about the West Coast’s interior.
But it keeps showing up in the news for all the wrong reasons. Dangerous bear activity. Trash piling up on the treasured beaches. Car traffic that could turn deadly in our own natural disaster.
That’s why Tahoe’s stewardship plan is so groundbreaking. It recognizes that the economy is incredibly dependent on making sure tourists still come to visit, but it also sets boundaries and makes the relationship more reciprocal and sustainable.
One interesting feature is how the business and hospitality industry decided to reinvest dollars. Since anywhere between 40 and 80% of the housing stock is dedicated to rentals for visitors, it’s almost impossible to afford living in the Tahoe area.
But now there’s Lease to Locals, a new program that incentivizes landlords renting to people who live there. Sure, it could use some work, but the program itself represents a fundamental shift. No longer is tourism crowding the conversation; people are starting to not only recognize how important locals are, but to value them in action.
After all, in a very capitalist framework locals are who power the hotels, drive the transportation, and even teach in the schools that produce the workers. A city cannot just be serviced by robotics, even if Big Tech keeps trying to invent new ways to replace the workforce.
Three cool things Tahoe is doing:
A litter management program that’s making a real difference through campaigns like Take Care Tahoe
A stewardship ambassador program that pays people to direct and control the flow of people while also providing key information and touting how cool the local businesses are
Reframing data collection and actually using it to determine what policy should look like
There’s a lot to learn from Lake Tahoe’s stewardship plan. It’s a lot smaller than somewhere like San Francisco, and people go there for different reasons, but it’s also a neighbor that offers some insights we might need right now. The answer isn’t always “more.” Sometimes, it’s “better.”






