Choosing our dance partners: An impact-investment playbook for Sri Lanka’s next tourism chapter

Those that over-promise and under-deliver erode trust and repeat visitation. The transition to what might be called Pull–Push 2.0 is therefore a genuine opening, one we must embrace urgently. It invites us to craft experiences and narratives that resonate with Sri Lanka’s true and authentic soul, a place where intention is met with awareness, while steering clear of the kinds of volume and scale the island cannot sustain. The fundamental question remains simple but profound: who are we inviting, and what are they coming for?

Tourism is one of Sri Lanka’s greatest assets, and one of its most delicate. It remains the fastest and most direct mechanism for transferring wealth from global markets into local hands, a rare sector where economic, social, and environmental benefits can converge if managed wisely. Yet it is also acutely vulnerable to shocks, overdevelopment, and poor governance. The challenge before us is not whether to grow but how to grow, and, crucially, who we invite to the party.

Tourism has often been described as the fastest transfer of wealth from rich to poor. Unlike exports, remittances, or foreign investment, it functions through countless small transactions between travellers and local providers of food, accommodation, transport, and experiences. But this apparent simplicity hides a complex truth: not all tourism is created equal. Every tourist dollar leaks, some to airlines, global booking platforms, foreign travel agencies, and international hotel chains. While some of this is inevitable, what matters (and must be measured) is the proportion that stays in the country, circulating among guides, small hotels and restaurants, and communities. That retention, known as “leakage,” can vary from as little as 10% in mass-market, all-inclusive models to more than 70% in independently organised travel where visitors spend locally. 

 The real question for policymakers is therefore not how many people come, but which types of travellers they are, where they go, and how their spending behaviour ripples through the economy. The independently minded traveller, whether a budget or an affluent experiential guest, typically generates stronger local linkages, more authentic interactions, and lower environmental pressure than large-scale, volume-driven tourism. This is well known.

Sri Lanka is not a single destination but a living atlas of experiences….Too often, in our quest for “world-class,” we risk sanitising the very elements that make us distinctive, and this we must not do

Reliance on the same imagery

 So who’s coming, and what are they really doing? For half a century, Sri Lanka has relied on the same imagery to attract visitors: beaches, heritage cities, wildlife parks, and tea. These have been our “pull” factors, beautifully packaged attractions that adorn brochures and campaigns. Yet the “push” side of the equation, the psychology and intention of different traveller segments, has rarely been examined. We have long assumed that people simply come on what the world calls a “holiday.” Considering the challenges we are now facing, the word itself is dangerously misleading. An industry that plans, builds, and promotes around the notion of a “holiday,” where people arrive merely to take selfies at our “attractions,” is, in the modern context, a recipe for disaster.

 Fortunately, travel has evolved. Many people no longer journey to tick boxes on an itinerary or to be photographed in front of the world’s most recognisable landmarks. A more conscious, evolved traveller now moves with intention: to learn, to connect, to heal, to belong, or to challenge themselves. We cannot afford to ignore this shift; if we do, we will not only miss a tremendous opportunity but place the future of Sri Lanka’s tourism at risk. When purpose-driven, high-value travellers and conventional sightseers funnel into the same spaces, overcrowded parks, long queues at Sigiriya, jammed trains through the hills, both leave disappointed, their expectations unmet. Yet the net present and future value of these different travellers is not the same. We must recognise that segmentation is key, and the starting point is a simple question, and it is not “Where are you from?” It is: “Why are you here?”

The upside is that this global transformation in travel aligns perfectly with what Sri Lanka has to offer. Destinations that understand intention, and design for it, thrive. Those that over-promise and under-deliver erode trust and repeat visitation. The transition to what might be called Pull–Push 2.0 is therefore a genuine opening, one we must embrace urgently. It invites us to craft experiences and narratives that resonate with Sri Lanka’s true and authentic soul, a place where intention is met with awareness, while steering clear of the kinds of volume and scale the island cannot sustain. The fundamental question remains simple but profound: who are we inviting, and what are they coming for?

 Niche excellence 

The alternative to mass appeal is “niche excellence.” Sri Lanka is not a single destination but a living atlas of experiences. Within our shores lies a mosaic of micro-worlds: the surf and kite coasts; the long-distance hiking and pilgrimages that traverse tea country and mountain passes; Ceylon tea and Ceylon cinnamon and a new generation of artisanal producers; the architectural and design legacy of Geoffrey Bawa; the birding sanctuaries and botanical diversity that make the island a living garden; the heritage of Ayurveda and forest bathing; the emerging contemporary art and culinary scenes; and even the romance of slow train travel through misty valleys. Each of these niches can disperse visitors across space and time and deepen local expenditure and connection. 

Yet each piece of this mosaic demands the enabling conditions and standards that only coordinated storytelling, strategic investment, and stewardship can deliver. This spans everything from the creative and targeted promotion of niche experiences to the delivery mechanisms that make them tangible: trails, festivals, restored heritage properties, home-stays, special-interest journeys, thematic conventions and events, and experiences hosted in tandem by guides and experts in their fields, artists, writers, surfers, a monk, or a cinnamon peeler, supported by lovingly made-in-Sri Lanka products and services.

And, crucially, underpinning all of this is the need to get the fundamentals right: clean beaches, safe trails, clear signage, well-managed plantations and forests, adequate visitor-flow management systems, good public toilets, information centres, well-trained guides across many more disciplines, reliable public transport, and systems that monitor and manage carrying capacity, guest satisfaction, and local acceptance.

At the same time, the paradox of authenticity demands that we preserve the cultural nuances that differentiate us and make travel real: the spicy food; the noisy fish market; the locals playing carrom on the streets of Galle and Matara Forts; the street-cricket scenes across the island; the brightly painted buses and old train carriages; the tuk-tuk wisdom; or a group of schoolchildren in perfectly pressed uniforms holding up the traffic. These are the textures that make Sri Lanka raw, unpolished, and true. Too often, in our quest for “world-class,” we risk sanitising the very elements that make us distinctive, and this we must not do.

A single dollar spent on signage or sanitation can unlock thousands in community earnings. Neglect them, and the system collapses under its own success

 True impact investment

In other words, true impact investment in tourism begins with an understanding of the forces that make a destination authentic. It means targeting niches while protecting what is rare and different, but also refusing complacency about the foundations, the public goods that underpin every visitor experience. Environmental systems for waste and water management, access infrastructure that links small communities to visitor flows, congestion control in heritage sites and national parks, guided financing for small made-in-Sri Lanka enterprises, sustainability principles and practices, and the amenities that make travel safe and pleasurable are the true foundations of value. A single dollar spent on signage or sanitation can unlock thousands in community earnings. Neglect them, and the system collapses under its own success, as we have seen in overcrowded parks and unregulated coastal towns, as well as in other parts of the world.

 The next step is to redesign the operating system. Sri Lanka’s tourism architecture is still fragmented, hierarchical, and divided into public and private silos that struggle to collaborate effectively. What the country needs now are stewardship organisations, professional, accountable, and empowered multidisciplinary bodies with clear mandates, expert teams, and predictable budgets. These should not become yet another committee but living instruments of stewardship, helping coordinate and plan for the maintenance of shared assets such as trails, key beaches, forts, archaeological sites, and parks; incubating small enterprises; organising events and festivals; conducting research; proposing public works; telling their story; contributing to the collective promotion of the national tourism mosaic; and channelling both public and donor funds into local initiatives.

 True impact investment in tourism begins with an understanding of the forces that make a destination authentic. It means targeting niches while protecting what is rare and different, but also refusing complacency about the foundations, the public goods that underpin every visitor experience

Integrated stewardship frameworks

 Rather than creating a new layer of fragmented entities, the idea is to evolve toward integrated stewardship frameworks, adaptive in scale and scope, capable of addressing both place-based and thematic priorities. A single stewardship body, for instance, might oversee a defined region such as the Tea Country while also nurturing cross-cutting themes like nature and wildlife, soft adventure, or agro-tourism. What matters is not the administrative boundary, but the shared capacity to coordinate effectively across disciplines and connect public, private, and community interests around a common vision.

 In this model, the Government provides legitimacy, coordination, public works and predictable funding; the private sector contributes strategic direction, professionalism, agility, and global exposure as well as capital through memberships, partnerships and sponsorships schemes; and communities offer authenticity, conservation, and deep connection to place. Together, they form the backbone of a collaborative and regenerative tourism model, a living framework of partnership capable of finally bridging Sri Lanka’s long-standing divides between policy, practice, and place.

 Being selective about capital is equally vital. Sri Lanka should welcome the small and mid-scale investors who bring purpose, creativity, and care, people who restore heritage properties, regenerate tea, cinnamon, or rubber estates, invest in arts and crafts, open specialist guiding companies that cater to particular niches or teach foreign languages to industry professionals, or entrepreneurs who create new experiences rooted in place. These are the investors who settle, employ locals, and become long-term ambassadors for the country.

 Many within the industry agree that we must resist the lure of mega-projects that promise hundreds of rooms and jobs but deliver little beyond environmental and social stress and economic leakage. The goal is not simply to attract money but to attract the right kind of money, to be clear about the outcomes we want, which is sustainable growth.

 If we empower truly collaborative, multidisciplinary stewardship organisations, attract purposeful capital, invest in infrastructure, and market with discernment, Sri Lanka can comfortably host five million visitors without losing its soul

Destination marketing

Marketing must also evolve. A niche-led product strategy requires precision communication, not mass broadcasting. Instead of showing the same beaches and temples to everyone, Sri Lanka’s message should be tailored to the motivations of distinct traveller communities, divers, hikers, wellness practitioners, architects, birders, and art lovers. Influencers should be selected for authenticity and thematic relevance, not follower counts, and campaigns should highlight stories of purpose and creativity rather than the old clichés. With digital tools, visa incentives (and deterrents), strategic collaborations with specialised distributors, and partnerships with niche journalists, events, and trade shows, we can design journeys that are longer, slower, deeper, and more meaningful, trips that enrich both travellers and hosts, rather than leaving either potentially feeling hollow.

 This may raise a few eyebrows, but it is time we said it clearly: Sri Lanka does not need another slogan. What we need is strategic clarity about who we are speaking to, and just as importantly, who we are not. If a slogan is ever required, it should filter, not flatter; it should quietly discourage the types of travellers we cannot or should not cater to, rather than attract those whose expectations or behaviours are misaligned with the island’s capacity, identity, and long-term vision.

 If we empower truly collaborative, multidisciplinary stewardship organisations, attract purposeful capital, invest in infrastructure, and market with discernment, Sri Lanka can comfortably host five million visitors without losing its soul. Each traveller becomes a patron of conservation and community development; each region gains a governance mechanism and an identity anchored in the reasons people come; and each niche becomes a new export channel measured not by headcount but by impact per visitor.

Sri Lanka should welcome the small and mid-scale investors who bring purpose, creativity, and care, people who restore heritage properties, regenerate tea, cinnamon, or rubber estates, invest in arts and crafts, open specialist guiding companies that cater to particular niches or teach foreign languages to industry professionals, or entrepreneurs who create new experiences rooted in place. These are the investors who settle, employ locals, and become long-term ambassadors for the country. The goal is not simply to attract money but to attract the right kind of money, to be clear about the outcomes we want, which is sustainable growth

 GSG Impact Sri Lanka Summit 2026

This conversation is precisely what gatherings such as the upcoming Lanka Impact Investment Summit 2026, hosted by the Lanka Impact Investment Network (LIIN) and the Global Steering Group for Impact Investing (GSG) Sri Lanka NP (National Partner), seek to advance. By connecting access to private equity with the policy sector and tourism industry under the shared banner of impact investment, the Lanka Impact Investment Summit underscores that regeneration and profitability are no longer opposing forces but part of the same equation.

 So here we are today, eagerly awaiting the next peak season, possibly the best one we have ever had. Tourism’s comeback feels like a celebration, a long-awaited party after years of hardship. But as we step onto the dance floor, we must choose our partners wisely. The next decade will determine whether Sri Lanka becomes another cautionary tale of over-tourism or a benchmark for sustainable and regenerative growth. The silver lining of our difficult past, civil conflict, tsunamis, and crises, is that we have avoided the worst mistakes others made. Now we can leapfrog them by designing a future anchored in authenticity, fairness, and care and redefining what success in tourism means. Around the world, destinations that protect what makes them special consistently outperform those that commodify themselves. 

 The dance floor is open. Let’s be intentional about who we invite, and what kind of music we want to play.

 

(The author is a Spanish-born travel designer, consultant, and entrepreneur who has lived in Sri Lanka for over two decades. Widely recognised as the founder and original designer of The Pekoe Trail, Sri Lanka’s 300-kilometre long-distance hiking route, he is a Conde Nast Top Travel Specialist and Senior Partner at SBM Consulting, where he advises on regenerative tourism, destination stewardship, and trail-based development. Miguel’s work bridges policy and practice, helping shape national tourism strategies while continuing to host travellers himself, walking through the island’s tea country and connecting them with the people and landscapes that inspire his vision for a more inclusive, sustainable Sri Lanka.)