Anyone Glorifying "The White Lotus" Is Missing the Point
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Since its season-one debut in Hawaii, the show's mainstay is its unabashed skewering of lavish tourist culture. I adored Tanya McQuoid, may she rest in peace, from the comfortable distance of my screen, but I don't aspire to be her peer.
In general, "White Lotus" doesn't make me super horny for wealth. The characters that make the show so delicious are virtually all self-absorbed, culturally unaware, and badly behaved. They may be loaded, but they're all running from something - whether an imploding marriage, a failed money-laundering scheme, or their unflagging self-loathing - which prevents them from truly appreciating the bounty in their midst. These people have everything a person could want, laid out on an actual silver platter, but they're still wildly unhappy.
In each season, the relationships between the hotel's abrasive, oblivious guests and its charming staff some of whom are admittedly a little too eager to please provide constant tension, a thrumming backdrop to the dramas that unfold behind the hand-carved doors of each grand suite. But "White Lotus" doesn't let its viewers feel bad for the staff: Whereas lower-class workers are often just used as a foil for the main characters in movies and TV, "White Lotus" frequently transcends these tropes. Though some of the guests ahem, Timothy Ratliff would clearly prefer staff to remain in the background, staff members are main characters in every season, with their own complex and often very dark storylines.
The staff isn't there to be pitied, but empathized with. In this season, for example, the only likable character so far is Belinda, and we saw just how mistreated she was by spa patrons in the first season. We watch staff flatten themselves to cater to the whims of the uber-wealthy, all the while knowing what's bubbling underneath. In that way, White coaxes his viewers' attention toward the people who most often go unnoticed at luxury hotels, ideally prompting consumers to rethink their behavior and expectations when they inevitably rush to book their next vacations.
That the cottage industry ballooning in the wake of "White Lotus" is stoking a "set-jet" overtourism frenzy is not only antithetical to the show's message, but actively contributes to each location's decline.
Posh hotels are using "White Lotus" as influencer bait, clamoring to lure wealthy travelers to the shimmering banks of their infinity pools. But a stampede of selfie sticks and ring lights is the last thing Koh Samui needs: As Colin Nagy reported for Skift, the small Thai island is "already grappling with infrastructure challenges" like garbage processing and water scarcity. That's especially alarming given the World Sustainable Hospitality Alliance statistic claiming tourism in some locations "uses over eight times more water per person on average than the local population."
One could make the argument that "White Lotus" does more to fetishize luxury travel - each season with a pristine, dazzling location and horde of pristine, dazzling elites - than condemn it. But the violent demise at the end of each season feels like a pretty clear lesson in hubris to me.
Yes, yes, I know. Not all luxury tourists. Certainly not all high-end tourism is created equal, and there are plenty of options out there for the more responsible, respectful vacationer. But if there's one thing "White Lotus" has taught us, it's to never underestimate the richness of a person's private, inner life. So the next time you plan a miserable girls' trip or a family vacation that coincides with the expos of your illegal international fund, at least be nice to the staff. If it feels appropriate, maybe try to get to know them a little bit. I guarantee it will feel better than rubbing coconut-oiled elbows with Mr. "Happy Ending" eying you from the bar.
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Emma Glassman-Hughes she her is the associate editor at PS Balance. In her seven years as a reporter, her beats have spanned the lifestyle spectrum; she's covered arts and culture for The Boston Globe, sex and relationships for Cosmopolitan, and food, climate, and farming for Ambrook Research.
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