The Banana Republic hotel
This is not an article about politics. It is about a hotel where informal power had gradually replaced formal governance.
Having worked in both luxury and volume hospitality, particularly in emerging markets, I learned that hotels attract more than guests seeking a good bed, food, and friendly service.
They can also attract colourful and opportunistic investors, managers, and employees who are drawn to the movement of cash.
Over the years, I encountered pilferage and corruption that, at times, took my breath away.
It reflected a broader environment in which weak governance had become normal across both the private and public sectors.
One hotel in particular has remained with me throughout my career.
I knew when I accepted the assignment that it would not be easy.
The hotel had established a certain reputation.
I was brought in, or so I believed, to change that culture rather than become part of it.
This 1,000-bed hotel operated more like a factory than a hotel.
It had developed its own informal economy resembling a small banana republic.
Staff bribed supervisors. The supervisors bribed managers. Managers, in turn, bribed upwards.
Salaries were not what motivated behaviour.
The real money flowed elsewhere, through vendors, suppliers, and commercial relationships that existed largely beyond the hotel’s formal controls.
As I gradually came to understand, the relationships influencing behaviour extended beyond the hotel’s walls.
The absence of governance was so deeply embedded that, at times, it seemed to extend beyond the hotel itself, making me cautious about how and where I reported what I was discovering.
What was missing was something much simpler.
Nobody owned accountability.
- Responsibility had become fragmented.
- Decision-making had become blurred.
- Authority had become ambiguous.
- Everyone participated, yet nobody was ultimately accountable for the outcome.
The hotel management company promoted a culture inspired by family values, spirit, and bespoke authenticity.
It had engaged highly capable professionals who genuinely believed in the standards, processes and services defined in the Hotel Management Agreement (HMA).
Regular meetings were held to review key performance indicators, with discussions centred on revenue, profitability and operational performance.
Yet, when I walked the hotel floor, the reality told a very different story.
The HMA seemed strangely disconnected from everyday operations, almost like E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial being far away from home.
The language spoken in boardrooms bore little resemblance to the behaviours I observed throughout the hotel.
It was a banana republic.
Looking back, I probably should have walked away.
Instead, I chose to confront it.
The team working alongside me did an extraordinary job.
Replacing everyone would probably have been easier, but economic reality dictated otherwise.
I have found that people employed at the same company have a remarkable tendency to accept what is inappropriate when management has normalised it.
To reduce reality to villains would have been too easy; people deserve better.
Therefore, when signalling a different approach, one that was guided by transparency, many members of the existing management team chose to walk that path with me.
Rather than beginning with punishment, I decided to begin with accountability.
- The management team had historically received unofficial bonuses to compensate for unrealistically low salaries.
Instead of accepting the arrangement, I increased management salaries and made remuneration transparent. - Rather than banning unaccountable staff purchases through the hotel store, I publicly bought the same items during management meetings, paid with my own credit card, and asked for a receipt.
Nobody needed an explanation. The signal was clear. - I chose to work with the trade union rather than around it.
Together with its representative, I presented the hotel’s performance to the staff each month in language everyone could understand.
Sharing reality fostered a shared sense of ownership.
Gossip and speculation gradually disappeared. - I was invited by a leading newspaper to be interviewed.
Many General Managers use such opportunities to represent their hotel to the local community.
I chose a different route. I asked the journalist to interview my line staff instead.
Over the following months, interviews were published with maids, clerical staff, and many others who would normally never find themselves in the limelight.
I deliberately chose not to influence, edit, or manipulate these interviews. It was a gamble.
The outcome still gives me goosebumps.
The care, pride, and sophistication with which these colleagues represented the hotel were extraordinary.
Each represented the hotel as though they carried ultimate responsibility for it.
Sharing the hotel’s performance with them had made a difference. - Wholesalers, tour leaders, and suppliers occasionally arrived carrying envelopes, hoping to negotiate next year’s contracts.
They left with those envelopes unopened.
Instead, I insisted on transparent pricing and encouraged them to use the additional income to reward their own employees fairly. - Slowly, steadily, and deliberately, I repositioned the business.
We developed a new market positioning strategy and established a sales team to implement it.
Low-yield wholesale business was gradually replaced by a market segment the hotel had never seriously pursued before: Meetings & Conferences
Direct bookings increased through a fully redesigned website that rewarded guests with additional value rather than discounted prices. - Despite resistance from both inside and outside the organisation, I gradually tightened payment discipline while reducing wholesale allotments.
- Rather than reducing payroll or removing staff benefits, I converted an unused restaurant into a multifunctional staff canteen that also served nearby office workers.
A cost centre became a profit centre, strengthening both staff morale and my relationship with the trade union. - Food and beverage was strengthened by recruiting a signature Executive Chef.
For the first time, the hotel actively promoted its culinary competence—not to compete with the city’s restaurants, but to demonstrate that we were no longer simply the cheap half-board hotel. - Managers became accountable for their departmental KPIs.
Accountability migrated to where decisions were made.
As a result, I no longer needed to chase operational shortcomings.
When F&B guest capture rates or average guest cheque values fell below target during a particular shift, department managers initiated the analysis, identified the cause, and implemented corrective action themselves.
That allowed me to spend less time exercising control and more time providing leadership. - Leadership also meant accepting that not every operational inefficiency should automatically be eliminated.
For example, I disliked the twelve-hour reception shifts.
They were physically demanding for the front-line staff and, from a service and revenue perspective, far from ideal.
Yet they created alternating short- and long-work weeks that allowed several receptionists, many of them single mothers, to balance work and raising their families.
I could have changed the rota. Instead, I chose to understand why it existed.
Not every compromise serves the business. Sometimes it serves the people who make the business possible.
The hotel ultimately achieved a significant turnaround.
It was not driven by major capital expenditure.
It was driven by changes in culture, accountability, market positioning, and management discipline.
Ironically, I was no longer there to witness the turnaround.
Change management creates resistance. Long-established interests rarely disappear quietly.
I left before the full benefits became visible.
The real achievement was never receiving the credit.
Others received much of the recognition for the turnaround, and rightly so.
Completing a turnaround is every bit as important as starting one.
Looking back, I have made peace with that.
It was enough to know that the culture had changed.
Those foundations helped my successor complete the journey, something he did remarkably well.
That experience taught me something I have carried throughout my career.
If governance depends on one individual, it is not governance at all.
Real governance survives the people who introduce it, creating a succession of leaders guided by principle rather than opportunism.
Looking back, I realise that this assignment marked the beginning of an idea that has guided my professional life ever since.
Governance is the operating system of decision-making.
It creates clarity around authority, responsibility, accountability and information flows.
When those become clear, organisations begin to change.
That is what the Banana Republic hotel taught me.
Thank you for reading my article.
This article is about how working in a corrupt environment taught me that governance is the operating system of decision-making.
This is the eighth of a series of articles—”The Banana Republic Hotel: What Hospitality Taught Me About Myself”—in which I share lessons learned throughout my professional and personal journey and how those experiences have shaped my thinking and led me to develop my own principles.
I hope it has provided some food for thought, encouraged curiosity, and perhaps offered a different perspective on why governance matters.
About the Author
Raoul Gransier is a Senior International Adviser and owner-focused hotelier with more than 25 years of operational and advisory experience in hospitality, tourism, governance, and performance improvement.
Website