When “Green” Turns Grey: How Greenwashing Is Draining the Soul Out of Hospitality
By Rob Vogel, Vice President of Operations, Arbus Hospitality
The Soul of a Place
There’s an anonymous hotel where I briefly worked early in the pandemic, a place that made me fall in love with New Orleans during a hard time for all of us. It wasn’t fancy, but it had soul. The people who worked there cared deeply, and the energy of the place was tied to the rhythm of the city around it.
That hotel was more than a place to stay. It was a haven for the community, especially for the local artists, musicians, and creatives who made New Orleans what it is. You could feel it the second you walked in. The lobby was filled with local art and conversation. The staff were from the neighborhood. The music wasn’t curated by a consultant, it was just what people actually listened to. It wasn’t trying to feel like New Orleans; it was New Orleans.
They did the “towel-on-the-floor” thing too - where guests hang towels to reuse them - but without the preachy sign about saving water. It was simple and quiet. Thoughtful, not performative.
photo courtesy Rob Vogel
“It wasn’t trying to feel like New Orleans; it was New Orleans.”
When Authenticity Gets Replaced by Appearances
I went back recently, and the hotel had changed ownership and branding. The second I stepped inside, I knew it wasn’t the same.
The local art was gone, replaced with generic décor that could have been anywhere. The staff felt disconnected from where they were. The energy in the lobby felt muted. The heartbeat of the place was gone.
When I walked into my room, I found the familiar bamboo-printed card reminding me to “save the planet” by reusing my towels - and two water bottles in paper sleeves congratulating me for being a loyalty member.
It hit me harder than I expected.
What had once been a soulful, community-centered space had been scrubbed clean of its identity. The African American culture that defines New Orleans - the music, the art, the language, was nowhere to be found.
photo courtesy Rob Vogel
The irony is that the original version of the hotel - messy, local, and full of character - was more sustainable than any branded program. It supported nearby artists, small businesses, and a sense of belonging that kept both money and meaning in the community.
But in its place was a polished, corporate version of “sustainability” that felt hollow. And that’s the danger of greenwashing in hospitality.
“What had once been a soulful, community-centered space had been scrubbed clean of its identity.”
Chasing Sustainability Instead of Living It
Hotels everywhere are chasing sustainability as a talking point.
You see it in the bathroom cards asking guests to reuse towels “to save the planet,” or the recycling bins that all end up in the same trash stream anyway, or the loyalty points offered for skipping housekeeping.
It’s framed as progress, but too often it’s about chasing climate pledges that don’t make sense locally: metrics written in a boardroom thousands of miles away, with no input from the people who actually live there.
Sustainability that isn’t grounded in place ends up feeling hollow.
These gestures don’t build connections. They just push the work onto the guest - or onto the local communities.
photo courtesy Rob Vogel
Hospitality as an Antidote
The world already feels transactional enough. Every click, every purchase, every interaction reduced to a metric or a moment to optimize. Hospitality should be different. It should be the antidote - a reminder that warmth, empathy, and care still exist. But when we lean on greenwashing, we remind guests that this too is just another corporation. What could have been an act of welcome becomes a reminder that even the simple idea of being cared for has been commodified.
“Hospitality should be the antidote — a reminder that warmth, empathy, and care still exist.”
True Sustainability Is Lived, Not Marketed
True hospitality is about humanity. It’s about being seen, being looked after, and belonging somewhere, even just for a night. It’s not about bamboo towel cards or branded water bottles. It’s about how a place makes you feel. When sustainability becomes a slogan instead of a practice, we lose that connection.
The path forward isn’t complicated. Just do the things that are meaningful. Build real systems that reduce waste. Support local businesses and culture. Protect what makes each place special instead of flattening it into sameness.
Be honest about where you are and what you’re trying to do. Guests don’t expect perfection. They expect honesty. They expect to feel something real.
Sustainability doesn’t need to be loud to be real - it just needs to be lived.
I still think about that hotel in New Orleans, the one that didn’t need to tell you it cared. You just knew it did.
Maybe one day, hospitality will find its way back to that kind of authenticity. Because hospitality without authenticity is just lodging. But hospitality with authenticity can change the world.
photo courtesy Rob Vogel