When someone starts a new job, we usually give them a laminated treasure map: “Here’s the job description, there’s the fridge, don’t microwave fish. Good luck!”We show them around, nod seriously while pointing at the fire exits, and maybe—just maybe—mutter something motivational like, “You’ll get used to it.” And then we sit back and expect (These are already Loud Expectations): Michelin-starred service, Navy-SEAL resilience, Yoga-guru emotional balance… From Day 3. Why? Because "we showed them the ropes". As Managers and owners, we care deeply. We train, we support, we spot potential like Gordon Ramsay spotting a raw scallop. We coach staff, we lead them, we cry in the stockroom when they quit after 3 weeks for ‘personal reasons’. But here’s the real problem…We forget to set the REAL expectations. Not the ones HR emails you with 43 attachments. I mean the human ones. The sneaky, toxic ones that slip under the radar like a passive-aggressive Slack message. Because let’s be honest—when

In leadership discourse, the phrase “toxic leader” is thrown around with increasing frequency. But what exactly does it mean — and can someone truly be a leader if they are toxic? This article explores the concept of toxic leadership through a critical lens, challenging assumptions about authority, influence, morality, and the role of perception in defining leadership itself. What Is Leadership? At its core, leadership is not a title, a position, or a promotion. Leadership is influence through voluntary followership. John C. Maxwell put it simply: “Leadership is influence — nothing more, nothing less.” This implies a mutual relationship between leader and follower. People choose to follow because they align with a person’s vision, values, or presence — not just because someone has power over them. This definition sets the foundation for a difficult but necessary question: Can leadership exist when the influence becomes harmful — or when followership is rooted in fear? The Common View o

Let’s be honest — this isn’t a bitter rant from a parent whose kid didn’t make the school choir (although, I’ve heard him sing, and let’s just say… it’s better this way). This is an honest, slightly sarcastic, and highly caffeinated reflection on what we think is good for our kids… and what might actually be backfiring in the most glittery, well-intentioned way possible. The Death of Healthy Competition Back in my day (cue the dramatic piano), we played outside without helmets, scraped our knees, cried, got up, and ran again. In school, second place meant “try harder,” not “well done, here’s a ribbon for showing up.” I was a national-level athlete as a teenager. Every second place, every loss, every missed opportunity hit hard — and I needed that. It didn’t break me. It sharpened me. Losing built the fire. Winning made it worth it. You didn’t get a reward for just being there — you had to earn it. Now? My kids — and they’re not toddlers anymore — grew up with sporting days where every

Let’s be honest — star ratings in hospitality are basically Tinder profiles for buildings. A 1-star says “I exist, swipe left.” A 7-star? “I light candles, speak five languages, and own a Himalayan salt spa.” But have you ever wondered… what actually separates a budget room with curtains made of regret from a palace with gold-leaf on the croissants? Is it service? Décor? Magic dust? Let’s go on a sarcastic but oddly insightful journey up the hospitality ladder — one awkward lobby at a time. ⭐ 1-Star: “We Have a Bed. Technically.” Welcome to the entry-level of hospitality, where the bed feels like someone’s old sofa, the shower has two settings (cold drizzle or skin peel), and the Wi-Fi works best when you don’t use it. The staff? Usually part-time magicians — now you see them, now you don’t. But don’t judge too fast — sometimes that receptionist is the kindest human on Earth who tells you where to find the best burger for £2.50 and makes you feel seen after your five-hour Megabus ride.

Let’s get one thing straight from the start: if you’re looking for a TED Talk on the ten core principles of leadership, you’ve clicked on the wrong article. What you will get here is a slightly embarrassing, wildly honest, and hopefully hilarious story of how I stumbled into leadership like a deer learning ballet—in a foreign land, with basic English, not much hospitality experience, and absolutely zero clue what “leadership” even meant. Back then, I could do the job with my eyes closed and one hand behind my back. I knew the operations like I knew my mum's potato pancakes recipe—flawlessly. But managing people? Leading a team? Ha! That sounded like something out of a superhero movie. And I wasn’t even wearing a cape… just a wrinkled black shirt and dreams stitched together with ambition and guesswork. My career ladder? Oh, that thing was built by a madman during a hurricane. It wasn’t even leaning against the right wall. Some steps were missing. Others had nails sticking out. And whoe

Every passionate individual in any industry will proudly proclaim that their job is the most challenging, the most rewarding, the most vital. And perhaps, in their own way, they’re right. But today, allow me the indulgence to brag—no, to scream—about hospitality. Yes, hospitality: the misunderstood heart of service, the blood-soaked battleground of customer satisfaction, the quiet stage where a million dramas unfold every day without applause. It is a world of burnt fingers and plastered-on smiles, of mental exhaustion masked by polite greetings. And while I openly admit there are CEOs, seasoned operators, and decorated industry champions who have weathered far more storms than I have—I still invite you to step into the chaotic bounce castle of “agree to disagree.” Let’s start with the truth most pretend not to see: hospitality is one of the lowest-paid industries on the planet. Despite the romanticized glamour of hotel lobbies, signature cocktails, and Michelin stars, the reality behi