Paradise Under Pressure: Tourism Development, Aspirations, Work, and Mental Health
By Dr. Robertico Croes
Tourism is widely celebrated as a development success story. It creates jobs, builds infrastructure, and connects destinations to the global economy. Places like Aruba are often presented as models of what tourism can achieve, high income levels, modern services, and a vibrant hospitality sector. By conventional measures, this is development at its best.
But this narrative is incomplete. It tells us what tourism produces, but not how it is experienced. It measures growth, but not well-being. And it overlooks a critical question: what happens to people, their aspirations, their work lives, and their mental health, within successful tourism systems?
My research addresses this gap by advancing a capability-based perspective, where development is not defined by output, but by people’s ability to live meaningful lives they have reason to value. From this standpoint, mental health is not a side effect of development. It is central to it. Two mechanisms are critical in understanding how tourism affects mental health: first, the aspiration–expectation gap, and second, the nature of tourism and hospitality work.
Rising Aspirations and the Limits of Opportunity
Tourism transforms how people see the world, and themselves. It exposes residents to new lifestyles, consumption patterns, and standards of success. A hospitality worker in Aruba, for example, may interact daily with visitors who travel freely, spend generously, and experience the island as a place of leisure and abundance. These interactions expand what the worker aspires to.
They reshape what feels possible. This expansion of aspirations is not a problem. It is a sign of development. It reflects a broader awareness of opportunity and a widening of horizons. The problem arises when aspirations grow faster than the ability to fulfill them. This is what I describe in my research as the aspiration–expectation gap. In Aruba, this gap is widening. Residents observe a thriving tourism economy, luxury hotels, global recognition, high visitor spending, yet their own opportunities remain constrained. Jobs are created, but clear pathways for advancement are limited. Participation in tourism is widespread, but upward mobility is uneven. This gap is not merely descriptive. My research shows that it plays a mediating role in the relationship between tourism development and well-being. Tourism raises aspirations. But when individuals are unable to translate those aspirations into real outcomes, better jobs, higher income, improved living conditions, the gap becomes a source of psychological strain. In this sense, tourism does not directly determine well-being. It does so through the gap between what people hope for and what they can realistically achieve.
Consider a hotel employee who has spent years delivering excellent service yet remains in the same position, with little chance of promotion. Each day, this individual contributes to an industry that sells happiness, while experiencing limited progress in their own life. Over time, this mismatch produces frustration, stress, and a sense of stagnation. This is not simply an economic issue. It is a psychological one. When individuals begin to feel that their aspirations are out of reach, their sense of agency, the belief that they can shape their future, declines. And when agency declines, mental health is affected. This may not always appear as clinical illness, but it manifests in quieter forms: chronic stress, emotional fatigue, reduced motivation, and a diminished sense of purpose.
Tourism intensifies this process because it embeds comparison into everyday life. Residents do not observe prosperity from a distance; they live alongside it. The contrast between the visitor experience and the reality of the residents becomes a constant reference point.
The Nature of Tourism Work and Its Psychological Demands
The second mechanism linking tourism and mental health lies in tourism and hospitality work itself. Tourism creates employment, but the characteristics of that employment matter. Hospitality jobs are often defined by long working hours, income instability, job insecurity, and limited career mobility. These structural features shape not only economic outcomes, but also psychological experiences.
More importantly, tourism work is emotionally demanding. Workers are expected to display friendliness, warmth, and attentiveness regardless of their personal circumstances. A front desk agent must smile while dealing with stress. A server must remain cheerful despite financial pressure. This requirement to regulate emotions, emotional labor, creates a gap between what workers feel and what they must display. Over time, this gap becomes psychologically costly.
My research on friendliness in The Bahamas provides a clear illustration of this process. Friendliness, often celebrated as a defining feature of Caribbean tourism, is not simply natural, it is learned, reinforced, and performed. Workers internalize expectations of friendliness as part of their professional identity. However, when friendliness becomes a requirement rather than an expression, it creates emotional tension.
Employees are expected to continuously perform positive emotions, even when their lived realities, financial strain, limited mobility, or job insecurity, do not support those emotions. This creates emotional dissonance. Over time, emotional dissonance leads to burnout, fatigue, and reduced well-being. Workers are not only delivering a service, they are managing their emotional expression as part of that service.
The psychological burden of tourism work becomes even more visible during periods of disruption. My research on the COVID-19 pandemic in Orlando showed that tourism workers experienced increased stress, anxiety, and depression due to job loss, reduced income, social isolation, and uncertainty. These outcomes were directly linked to the structural characteristics of tourism employment.
Importantly, these findings are consistent with a broader body of evidence. Research documented in the National Institutes of Health (NIH) database in the United States consistently links hospitality work to mental health challenges, including stress, anxiety, depression, and burnout. These studies highlight how job insecurity, irregular schedules, emotional labor, and limited control over work conditions contribute to psychological strain. Tourism, therefore, does not simply create jobs. It creates a particular kind of work environment, one that can be psychologically demanding and, in some cases, destabilizing.
When Aspirations and Work Realities Collide
The aspiration–expectation gap and the nature of tourism work do not operate independently. They reinforce each other. Workers are exposed to expanding aspirations while simultaneously occupying jobs that offer limited mobility and high emotional demands. They see what is possible, but experience what is constrained. They perform happiness but may not feel it.
This creates a deeper misalignment. This is where mental health becomes deeply intertwined with tourism. Well-being is not only about having a job or earning an income. It is about alignment, between aspirations, identity, and lived experience. When tourism systems disrupt this alignment, even successful economies can generate psychological strain. This insight is central to my book, A Journey to Happiness. In that work, I argue that happiness is not the automatic result of growth. It is the result of capability, the ability to make meaningful choices, to pursue valued goals, and to live a life that feels coherent and fulfilling. Tourism has the power to support this journey. But it can also complicate it. It expands horizons, but it can also expose limitations. It creates opportunities, but it can also highlight inequalities.
The question, then, is not whether tourism is good or bad. The question is: how tourism can be structured to support human well-being.
Community, Care, and the Foundations of Mental Health
Part of the answer lies in recognizing the importance of community. In small island destinations like Aruba, resources are limited. Formal mental health systems, clinics, specialists, and large- scale programs, are often constrained. But these societies possess something equally valuable: strong social networks, shared identities, and a deep sense of community
Initiatives such as Fundacion Mama Ties demonstrate how these resources can be leveraged. Bycreating spaces where people, particularly the elderly, can connect, participate, and feel valued, these programs address mental health in practical and culturally grounded ways. They do not rely solely on formal treatment. They build on relationships.
This is critical. Because mental health is not only about clinical care. It is about belonging, connection, and purpose. Community-based initiatives convert social capital into care. They provide support in ways that are accessible, familiar, and meaningful. In doing so, they strengthen the foundations of well-being that tourism alone cannot provide.
From Growth to Care: Rethinking Tourism Systems
But these efforts, while important, are not enough on their own. If tourism is to support well-being, it must be designed with people in mind. This requires three key shifts.
First, we must monitor mental health as part of tourism development. This means looking beyond economic indicators to understand how people feel, whether they experience stress, whether they see opportunities for growth, and whether they feel connected to their communities.
Second, we must diagnose the sources of strain. Where are people feeling stuck? Where are work environments creating emotional pressure? Where is tourism creating disconnection rather than opportunity?
Third, we must create opportunities. Opportunities for career advancement, so workers can see a future for themselves. Opportunities for emotional intelligence training, so they can manage the demands of their roles. Opportunities for meaningful participation, so they are not just serving tourism, but shaping it.
And most importantly, we must invest in mental health care. This means strengthening access to counseling and support services. It means integrating mental health into workplaces, schools, and communities. It means reducing stigma and making it easier for people to seek help. And it means recognizing that mental health is not a luxury; it is a necessity. In small island contexts, this also means combining formal care with community-based approaches. Programs like Mama Ties show that care is most effective when it is embedded in everyday life, when it is part of how people interact, support each other, and stay connected.
The promise of tourism lies in its ability to create prosperity and support meaningful lives.
That is the real challenge. And that is the true journey to happiness.
