MICHIL'S NEWSLETTER

Between Artificial Intelligence and Authentic Innkeeping

Giulan. In Val Badia, it means “May God reward you”, and we always take the time to say it with the right tone. No algorithm will ever utter that phrase. On August 2nd, Europe’s AI Act comes into force. Artificial intelligence works in hotels, too, and does a good job. But what can’t we delegate to a machine? What must necessarily stay human?


On August 2nd, 2026, a new compliance phase of the AI Act will come into force all over Europe.
Artificial intelligence tiptoed its way into the hotel business some time ago, and it now has a huge impact on how various operational stages are managed. It helps set a room rate by looking at the weather forecast; it helps us understand which product is most suitable for cleaning the stone flooring in the new breakfast hall, or for treating the antique Swiss pine of our wood-panelled stües. If we get an email in Japanese, AI translates it automatically (sometimes leading guests to give us more credit than we’re due for our language skills!). A digital concierge can answer the most straightforward questions, and it never sleeps or gets tired. What’s more, it can recognise guests and suggest their favourite suite – though we don’t need AI to work out that the Suite Ernesto is the most sought after. And luckily, like clockwork, Tatjana still puts out the anatomical pillow for Mr James whose neck pain plays up, and Burama can whip up her excellent crepes with a glaze of blueberry jam. Of course, we can’t write in ladino and expect an automatic translation, but when that does happen, our little language will become universal. Fear not, we Ladins won’t be taking over the world!
But let us turn back to the AI Act. One of the most interesting developments introduced by the new law is that systems which interact directly with humans must inform users of the artificial nature of the communication taking place. So, in short, a digital concierge or a chatbot giving directions to reach reception must declare its status, without pretending to be human.
August 2nd isn’t a date that affects only legislators and bureaucrats; it affects us customers too – or helpless users, as the case may be – who more and more often are choosing to delegate an additional slice of our work to an artificial helper. But what, one wonders, should stay strictly with us as part of the human exchange? What cannot be delegated?
Artificial intelligence works. In many cases, it works better, and faster, than we do. The algorithm, a machine and non-entity, knows how to get things done. But do machines know how to host guests? Will efficiency force us to forgo human relationships?
What’s certain is that we simply cannot reject these tools altogether: we’re not permitted to hole up in a tech-free cave. We live in the time around us and cannot exclude ourselves from the progress of history. While it is true that an artificial helper can free up our time, we must be ready to draw a line between what’s ok to delegate, and what we should be guarding closely.
Hospitality goes beyond providing instant responses: it’s being able to read between the lines of an email, or the hesitation of an uncertain guest’s voice on the phone. Hospitality goes beyond what’s known in tech-speak as profiling; hospitality means calling a guest on their birthday and cracking a joke; hospitality is understanding a guest and the seasons of his or her life. Seeing someone get engaged, seeing him become a father, then a grandfather. No algorithm could replicate the physical memory of a handshake with Mr Baumann, widowed after fifty years of marriage; or a pat on the back for the young chef when he’s just been scolded by his boss.
In Val Badia, the word for thank you is giulan, dilan or iolan; in Ortisei it’s de gra, in Cortina gramarzé and in Val di Fassa, dievelpai. The literal meaning of these words is “May God reward you”, and when we say them, we take the time to do so with intention, using the right tone. When we give thanks, we are human, and we cannot delegate our humanity to a machine – no matter how good it is at imitations.
The AI Act can help us to remember some of the risks implicit in replacing the Human, and what should stay the responsibility of a person and not a machine. Our valleys, where hospitality is a profession as old as the houses themselves, now have a chance to reclaim that age-old care. An algorithm might calculate the right rate and translate a sentence; it might even help us to predict what we’re going to want. But it won’t manage to assess the quality of an oolong tea; it won’t understand the infusion times, and nor will it be wowed by an umami flavour. And it will never say giulan, because giulan isn’t a piece of data to be processed. Giulan is the exquisitely human and repeated choice to look you, the guest, in the eyes – you who will be back to see us again. Because you, my guest, know that I receive you and welcome you, and for you I will embody care and kindness. And you will do the same for me, because I am in need of it too.
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