The Authenticity Illusion

Over the last couple of days, I had the chance to visit a larger travel industry conference. I'm writing this in a short break between sessions, partly to process what I’ve been hearing, partly to see if others feel the same tension I do. I was there for a panel on overtourism, which was fun. But more interestingly, I took the opportunity to observe what the non-destination side of the sector is working on. Fascinating stuff, if also somewhat predictable. So I won’t bore you with more AI talk today. Maybe another time.

Photo by Brett Jordan on Unsplash

What struck me, though, was the recurring emphasis on authenticity. Travelers, we keep hearing, are looking for authentic experiences. Not the generic. Not the overly packaged. And so companies face a growing challenge: how to scale something that, by definition, resists scaling?

Travelers want the illusion of meaning, not the burden of the real

As one speaker at the conference put it: "We believe that travelers look for meaning first, logistics second."

I’d argue it’s a bit more complex than that. Most travelers look for the illusion of meaning first, and want the logistics handled invisibly and effortlessly. Authenticity has become a design aesthetic, not an encounter with the unfamiliar.

Let’s be clear: I don’t think most travelers, myself included, are truly looking for unfiltered authenticity. I think we believe we should want that. That “authentic” and “unique” give us cultural capital, stories to tell, photos to post.

But what we actually look for is this:

1. Something that helps us escape our daily lives.

2. Something that’s different or interesting (however we define that).

3. Something that feels safe and comfortable.

And that third point is crucial. Because if something needs to feel safe and comfortable, it probably has to be tailored to us. At least to a certain extent. And the moment something is tailored to the tourist, it ceases to be truly authentic.

My kind of mass tourism

Take the Ramblas. A beautiful boulevard, but undeniably generic as a tourist experience. Branded stores, crowded terraces, identical souvenirs.

Now take a right, away from the flow, and you might find yourself in a hip neighborhood. That’s what I did. I stumbled into bookstores, concept shops, quiet cafés. I loved it. I felt like I had found the real Barcelona.

But let’s be honest. Was my avocado toast with a poached egg and flat white in a quieter part of town really more "authentic"? Or was it just my version of mass tourism?

Same comfort, just different aesthetics. A curated version of place that feels local, because it mirrors the codes and preferences I already know.

Photo by Florian Wehde on Unsplash

Off the beaten track...

Truly going off the beaten track requires more than a Google Maps detour. It means letting go of control. Of predictability. It means embracing awkwardness, maybe even fear.

That’s not for everyone. Certainly not for me. (Just ask my wife.)

So what do we do instead? We find something that feels authentic, but operates within our social comfort zone. We consume the aesthetics of local life, without the complexity or friction that often comes with it.

We don’t want the real thing. We want a believable illusion of the real thing.

Our own subculture, somewhere else.

Or put differently: for many, authentic travel is escapism with landmarks.

Adventure, but with Wi-Fi.

What does that mean for destinations and businesses?

Let’s start by saying this isn’t a bad thing. It’s not a moral failing. It’s just human. We can’t all be explorers. And the world can’t support billions of people all having unfiltered encounters with untouched cultures. (Whatever that would even mean.)

But it does have consequences for how we shape tourism:

For destinations:

• Ask: which travelers are looking for something that aligns with what your place already is, not what it has to pretend to be?

• Where is the overlap between what visitors want and what your residents need?

• That’s where a win-win emerges. Where tourism adds value instead of extracting it.

For businesses:

• Understand that people want the illusion of authenticity. Not the full, messy reality.

• Your job is not just to sell a story, but to curate friction: enough to feel different, not so much to feel uncomfortable.

• Personalization isn’t just about preference, it’s about helping travelers make choices that work for them and for the place they visit.

There’s a lot more to unpack here. But maybe the core question is this:

Can we design experiences that feel meaningful, not by faking authenticity, but by aligning what travelers (truly) look for with what’s already true of a place?

Plenty to explore further.

Curious what you think.