When we dream up hospitality concepts, we thoughtfully consider every detail, except one: the people who bring them to life.

Employees don't quite make the rendering cut list – instead, we relegate them to a line item on a spreadsheet, a black and white number, an efficiency to be found.

In my experience, a large portion of our business success is decided prior to opening the doors on day one. As important as location, design decisions either enable our teams to thrive, or create obstacles that even exceptional teams have little ability to overcome. And while most operators will tell you that they can overcome these issues, the truth is they are hardwired to say never say "no". 

For many decades, business owners didn't have to think about the worker experience during the prenatal period of a business, as there was a surplus of talent waiting to execute on their plans. But today, employers are waking up to the nightmare of a labor force that realized it's been an afterthought for far too long. 

The above may sound abstract, so let's get clear and tangible – for hospitality employees, the most significant daily workplace stressors are the result of completely avoidable design decisions. The kitchen is too far away from the restaurant, there is not enough storage, there's no service elevator, it's too hot in here, and on and on…

These are just a snippet of the refrains sung in back-of-house corridors across our industry. And while these songs stayed muffled in the pantries and breakrooms for many years, the current playing field (primed by generations of complacency) created an opportune moment for the skeletons in our closets to storm out, right through the employee exit.  

Organizational culture takes years to build, and many more years to codify, while the cadence of our daily life happens in reporting cycles, weekly schedules, and eight-hour shifts. The fundamental misalignment of these two things often means that we want things in unrealistic timeframes, often from people who are unlikely going to stick around long enough to see the entire arch of transformation through. 

While it is widely known that physical challenges to our workplace create hardship for our colleagues, our industry would be better served to prioritize employees in the design phase, thinking through the longer-term trajectory of its teams from their perspectives. For example, I was recently discussing a kitchen design for one of our hotels and was taken to task by a chef for designing a prep-kitchen that was "a modern hellscape." Fiber-reinforced polymer (FRP) board, florescent lighting, no windows – what most assume a prep kitchen to look like. But the fact is, by not considering the employee experience, by not replacing the FRP board with tile and dry wall, and by not adding a window, I was choosing conditions that make us less competitive in this labor market, and more vulnerable to wage pressure and staff turnover. 

It was a surreal moment to realize I was complicit in creating something so fundamentally flawed and avoidable, a real cocktail of shame, acknowledgment, and remittance. I like to think I consider our teams in every move that I make, yet this one slipped right through my guard. This stinks. Just about as much as the pungent smell that loiters in the vast majority of employee locker rooms.

There are nearly endless opportunities in our industry to simply ask "how can we design this so that the wind is at our back?" When done correctly, well designed hospitality spaces are recruiting tools, they support above market wages, prevent injury, give dignity to our colleagues, and often drive demand.

If you are fortunate enough to be at the table during the concept/design phase of a space, pull up a chair for a team member to weigh in (or at least consider her vantage point). If the design is intended to only support market wages, revisit it, or prepare to be at the whim of the market.  If it will not only attract top talent in the field, but also create desire for others to join our industry, you are leaving meat on the bone.  If you couldn't imagine joyously working in any of the spaces you're creating, stop and ask yourself, "why are we creating this?" If you do not, consider yourself forewarned that you are putting your business in the faith of operators who are fully aware that your commitment to them pales in comparison to the commitment they have for service. 

My advice for those employees? Find an organization who does care about their employees. Not through a series of perks and rewards on a billboard for the public, but one whose commitment to collective success reverberates through work environments that champion employee input and experience from day one. 

And when things go south, (which if you're in the industry for long enough, will happen) the following spiral ensues, and it is never mentally tied back to the design choices – which bare much of the responsibility.  Headwinds in hiring lead to a modified opening plan, demand is underwhelming, an experience is delivered that is unable to change guest habits, excess pressure is foist upon everyone, revenues (and tips) don't meet expectations, the marketing machine gets primed, the Hail Mary of gimmicks intended to stimulate short-term awareness, employee turnover begins, random and unwarranted promotions get doled out to keep the train on the tracks, talent with optionality exercises it, strategy takes a back seat to necessity, and eventually the coagulation of all things, like the shell of a cicada in which all living elements that once inhabited it, have vacated. The guilt and responsibility lands on everyone on the front lines; and it hurts.  

Included in my daily media diet is a shower of quotes and observations on how to understand and traverse the seismic paradigm shift ("people have left the industry"; "workers want more flexibility"; "people don't quit jobs, they quit bosses"). While there is likely some truth to each of these, I consider them insufficient explanations for what is (and has been) in plain sight for as long as I can remember – hospitality has run on labor practices that are hard to defend.

Do me a favor and check my hypothesis; go find these "bad bosses" -- the ones that people quit and tell me if they are at projects in which the employee experience was carefully considered prior to inception.  Show me a hospitality institution where the back of house and front of house are of equal repute, and report back to me on the current state of employee morale. Talk to an organization that invests in modern day theaters for culinary excellence and ask them how hard it is to find cooks. The next time someone brings up a resort's employee retention rate, ask them what their design inspiration was for their employee housing, or who valet parks the employee cars, or what the view is like from the prep kitchen?  Better yet, ask to pause the conversation and continue it in the employee locker room. 

Hospitality is an execution business, the X's and O's of which haven't changed much in a hundred years; a clean, well-appointed accommodation, thoughtfully presented meals, amenities that reflect the desired experience, smile, never say "no".  The more difficult side of the business is creating an atmosphere in which employees will execute extraordinary service daily and turn a two-dimensional idea into a vivid canvas for guests to create indelible memories.  Almost all hospitality outfits have created standards, goals and mantras that highlight the universal desire to do this - treat others as you want to be treated, anticipate guest needs, go above and beyond, to name a few. These are all things that don't have to be taught, most of us innately do these for our family or close friends. The magic lies in inspiring our colleagues to put forth the effort to perform myriad acts of kindness to hundreds (if not thousands) of complete strangers every single day.

To do this is to be a professional, equal in rigor and importance to many other professions who generally are reserved for a higher societal reverence (particularly in America).  While I don't profess to know why this is, it is within my purview to see that these professionals – our colleagues – deserve the respect of diligent, thoughtful, humane consideration well in advance of suiting up for their shifts.   

I have seen firsthand that exceptional hospitality professionals not only still exist nearly everywhere in the world, but the ability to be one exists in almost all of us. If we do not recognize the design phase of our business for what it is – an opportunity to create incredible, employee-centric workplaces; then the war for talent will be lost, headwinds will ensue, and the corridors of our workplaces will continue to reverberate with the hymns of missed opportunity. 

By Albert Rothman Senior Vice President of Food & Beverage , EOS Hospitality