Think Like A Visitor

Over the years, I've come to believe that one of the most dangerous things a destination marketing organization  (DMO)  CEO can say is, "I already know the answer." Experience is a wonderful teacher, but it can also make us intellectually lazy. We begin recognizing familiar problems, reaching for familiar solutions, and assuming that what worked yesterday will work tomorrow. I've certainly been guilty of that. After nearly three decades in destination marketing, I learned that the most consequential leadership decisions rarely came from knowing more than everyone else. They came from being willing to think differently, question my assumptions, and occasionally admit that I didn't know nearly as much as I thought I did. Critical thinking isn't simply the ability to analyze information. It's a discipline, a continuous process of obse...

  What Happens When the Way You're Funded No Longer Matches the Work You're Expected to Do? During my years as a destination marketing organization (DMO) CEO, I spent considerable time thinking about budgets, revenue projections, hotel occupancy, and the financial health of the organization. That's part of the job. But looking back, I believe DMO leadership should pay more attention to a larger financial question: Is the way we're funded still appropriate for the work we're being asked to do? For many DMOs, the business model is relatively straightforward. Lodging-related tax revenues, membership dues, and other tourism-generated income support an organization primarily responsible for attracting visitors. When hotel rooms are occupied and visitors spend money, the organization benefits. When tourism slows, revenues decline. But something important has changed. The responsibilities of destination organizations have expanded considerably, while many of their funding ...

I've spent much of my professional life speaking a language that many people outside the tourism industry don't understand. ADR, RevPAR, occupancy rates, visitor spending, economic impact, impressions and conversions. These are familiar terms to those of us who work in destination marketing. We use them in board meetings, annual reports, budget presentations, and conversations with our industry colleagues. But I've come to believe that one of the most important responsibilities of a destination marketing organization (DMO) CEO isn't simply understanding these numbers. It's translating them into something the rest of the community understands and, more importantly, cares about. Consider hotel occupancy. We might proudly announce that occupancy increased three percent over the previous year. That's encouraging news for hotel operators, but what does it mean to the owner of a downtown restaurant, a city council member, or a resident wondering why public money suppo...

  During my years as a destination marketing organization (DMO) CEO, I learned that some of the most valuable assets a DMO possesses never appear on its balance sheet. They aren't buildings, marketing campaigns, research reports, or even the destination's attractions. They're relationships. And their real value often becomes apparent when something unexpected happens. Every CEO likes to say relationships matter. We attend luncheons, exchange business cards, serve on committees, and shake hands at community events. But I've come to believe there's a difference between knowing someone and having a relationship with them. Here's a question worth asking: If something important happened in your destination tomorrow morning, who would answer your call? More importantly, who would trust you enough to call you first? I think every DMO CEO should develop what I call a relationship map. Not another contact list or database of names and titles, but an honest assessment of ...

One lesson I learned after years of leading a destination marketing organization (DMO) is that the hardest decisions aren't always between a good idea and a bad idea. Those are usually fairly easy. The difficult decisions are often between a good idea and everything that happens after you say yes. A community partner proposes a new event. It sounds promising. An elected official suggests a new tourism initiative. The concept has merit. Someone wants the DMO to take responsibility for a program that clearly benefits the destination. The first question is usually: Should we do this? I've learned there's a better second question: And then what? That's the essence of second-order thinking. Instead of looking only at the immediate result of a decision, we consider what that decision sets in motion. Suppose we agree to sponsor an event. That's the first-order decision. But what happens when five other organizations ask for the same support? Have we unintentionally created...

  After spending many years in destination marketing, I came to appreciate something that rarely appears on a balance sheet: institutional memory has value. Every DMO has it. It lives in old files and board minutes, certainly, but much of it lives inside people. The longtime employee who remembers why the organization stopped working with a particular vendor. The sales manager who knows which meeting planner needs a phone call instead of another email. The finance person who remembers why a certain line appears in the budget. The CEO who knows the history behind an agreement with the city that everyone else assumes has always existed. None of that may be written down. Until that person leaves. Then someone inevitably asks, “Does anybody know why we do this?” I've watched organizations spend enormous amounts of time recreating knowledge they once possessed. That's more than an inconvenience. It can cost money, damage relationships, repeat old mistakes, and leave new employees t...