Tap. Confirm. Board. Tip. Exit. Receipt.
Conversation beyond “hi” and “bye” remains optional. The guest is being journeyed – smoothly, predictably, safely. No social demand is placed on either a weary guest arriving on the late train or a weary operator at the end of a 12-hour shift. All information you might want is at your fingertips – whether to tap is your choice. That is the Uber experience.
Then you arrive at your hotel.
If I wanted Late Night Ceremonies, I’d join a Guild
It hit me when I recently did an onsite. Arriving the day before, I opted for a bus service going late in the evening. The bus kept me up to date on where we were, so I was able to order an Uber just in time. When the bus pulled away, the Uber – zooming in on my location shared via the Uber app – pulled up. We greeted, then glided in silence towards my destination, guided by Uber’s nav. On the trip I had ample time and inclination to tip the driver, give a 5-star rating, and send the invoice to my accounting folder.
Exiting the car, I realised the whole business was entirely completed already. No effort, no friction, no inefficiencies. The stark contrast awaited beyond the moving doors of my client’s hotel.
I am faced with… a corridor opening straight ahead. Looking to the side, I see some kind of long counter with a computer display on top, indicating it as the likely location of the front desk. And yes, there is a person waiting there, at another computer display further down, so I get in line. Someone emerges from a door behind the counter and begins performing the rites on the first guest in line. I wait. I idly listen in as the conversation covers payment, breakfast, and the gentle invitation to fill in a paper form. A pen, obviously communal, is helpfully provided. Privacy for the oral data exchange: less so.
It’s my turn, after what felt like half an hour. The ritual briefly falters since my stay is complimentary, so the payment question has nowhere to go. But that also seems to spare us the registration paperwork. I am given a plastic card, a room number, and floor indication. Thankful for having escaped with a minimum of guild rites, I hunted around to discover the elevators in the corridor, and made best speed to my room.
What I really would have wanted was: Tap. Confirm. Sleep. Tip. Exit. Receipt.
Give Hobson a Choice
True luxury is not more interaction. It is the right amount of interaction, chosen by the guest. My preference just so happens to be a “no talkpoints” check-in. Not because I dislike people, but because at that point in the journey, talking is not service. Removing the need to talk is.
I will most probably make the same choice, being a human with habits. To obtain a specific service, like check-in or breakfast, I would choose “no talk”. Actually, outside emergencies, I would be hard pressed to name a scenario in which I would rather turn to the front desk.
The reality for your average hotel is that the process of service is shaped by either externally imposed standards, by internally formed habits, or by poorly understood “tradition”.
And herein lies the golden opportunity. Use modern technology to either offer real choice – or at least to make Hobson’s choice worth his while.
The New Gold Standard
Assume you run one of an interminable mass of nearly-city-centre business hotels. The quality of guest experience very much depends on whether you managed to hire away your competitor’s better staff or the most motivated recent graduates. Not so much on the framed picture you hung up in the hallway, with your mission statement in gilded letters. Once you make sure your self-check-in kiosk really works, that removes a variable and creates hospitality as reliability.
Predictable? Yes. In a positive sense, for the late-arriving business traveller. For the weary mother of three, with the hungry husband. The eager youth travel group. The tired musicians after their local gig, or their tour manager.
My esteemed colleague Matt Jones calls the check-in “anxiety management”, and it is. Even for the routinier, arriving at an unknown hotel late at night creates some uncertainty. The new gold standard is predictability, achieved through tech adoption.
Digitalise the Obvious, Mind the Risk
How often have you struggled to come up with some smart-sounding line for the “opportunities in your weaknesses” box of a SWOT analysis? Well, here is one. If delivering on outstanding traditional guest experience is a daily uphill battle, start delivering on something you can. Smartly. Promptly. Reliably.
Standing out among business hotels can be achieved by offering a smooth ride. A guest journey which includes the actual journey, room key and all.
In that sense, the announced Uber integration into a major PMS is not just a neat add-on, but the missing link in the journey. Just be mindful: when you integrate the ride into the stay, guess who now gets to help when the driver cancels.
Same goes for budget hotels. Limited service properties. Hostels. The key is: Cater to specific markets and needs. Drop what those do not want, or do not want to pay for. Excel at giving them what they truly ask. I think they call it “positioning”, sometimes.
And the luxury segment? It is again all about choice. Do not assume a travelling CEO, a vacationing family, or a sports team automatically wants human service for every mundane task. Let them choose at the touchpoint itself, since we insist on calling it that. Sometimes the most luxurious answer to “How may I help you?” is not being asked in the first place.
Keep the human touch where humanity and judgement add value: when something goes wrong, when reassurance is needed, when empathy matters. That is where you would wish for hotel experience in your Uber ride.




































































































































