Two decades on, I can’t recall the valuation of that Paris deal, most of the all-nighter client presentations I pulled together, or even the faces of half the people who crowded around that conference room table. But one small memento from that trip has stayed with me: a candle from my hotel, still in my possession after all these years.
I was in my early 20s back then, cutting my teeth as an investment banker on a cross-border transaction in the French capital. It sounds like a glamorous assignment on paper, but I barely caught a glimpse of the city. Instead, my days were crammed into windowless conference rooms, poring over endless spreadsheets and dense legal agreements, running on barely a few hours of sleep each night.
But every night, as I trudged back to the same hotel, a small, consistent warmth cut through the exhaustion. Before I even reached the front desk, someone would greet me by name: “Welcome back, Ms. Chang.” The staff anticipated every need I had before I even thought to ask for it. My room was always set up exactly how I liked it, no exceptions. That steady, gentle, effortless care stood in such stark contrast to the grueling, high-stakes intensity of my workdays.
More than twenty years later, I still have that candle, plus a bottle of room spray that carries the hotel’s signature fragrance. I use them rarely and intentionally, because the second I catch that scent, it pulls me right back to that chapter of my life. It’s not because I was happy back then—I absolutely wasn’t. I was burnt out, overwhelmed, and putting in 100-hour work weeks. But for a few hours every night, I felt cared for. I felt seen. And that small experience is why I’m convinced hospitality is the most underrated business discipline of our time.
Right now, nearly every executive conversation circles back to the same trending topics: AI, automation, scaling productivity, boosting efficiency. We’re asking all the expected tactical questions: How do we move quicker? How do we expand our reach? How do we do more with fewer resources? But we’re devoting far too little time to a question I believe matters far more: How do we make people feel?
Hospitality is too often written off as a skill that only matters for hotels, restaurants, and travel brands. That’s a fundamental mistake. Hospitality isn’t just fancy five-star luxury. It’s a core business discipline: the practice of making another human being feel understood, cared for, and valued. Organizations that nail this build something almost impossible for competitors to replicate: genuine, long-lasting trust.
I’ve built my career across multiple sectors, from investment banking and media to healthcare, consumer products, and now longevity science. The longer I work, the clearer it becomes that most of our biggest business challenges are, at their root, human challenges. Whether you’re serving customers, leading employees, or caring for patients, people all want the same thing: the certainty that someone has their best interests at heart. Above all else, people want to know they’re being looked after.
This isn’t just good customer service—it’s basic human psychology. Maslow’s hierarchy of needs tells us that people can’t reach their full potential if their core needs for safety and connection aren’t met. We usually apply this idea to our personal lives, but it holds just as true for organizations. When people feel secure, they contribute more. When they feel supported, they’re willing to take smart, innovative risks. When they feel valued, they pour more of themselves into their work and their relationship with your brand. That’s true for customers, employees, and leaders alike.
Throughout my career in leadership, the feedback I hear most often has nothing to do with strategy, financial results, or operational tweaks. It’s that people know they can come to me with their hardest, messiest problems. They know I’ll listen. They know I’ll be honest with them. They know I’ll push them to grow when they need it, but they’ll leave every conversation feeling supported. That’s hospitality—not in the traditional hotel sense, but in the deepest human sense.
When I reflect on my career, I realize I’ve spent most of it trying to recreate that same feeling of being seen and cared for for the people I work with. The best leaders I’ve ever collaborated with didn’t always have the highest IQs or the most impressive resumes. What they did have was the ability to build a space where people felt safe to speak up, make mistakes, ask unscripted questions, and grow. They anticipated people’s needs before those needs were ever spoken out loud.
In an era increasingly shaped and dominated by technology, that ability is only growing more valuable, not less. AI will reshape how we work, there’s no question about it. It will automate routine tasks, speed up decision-making, and improve product personalization in ways we’re only beginning to imagine. It will make businesses more efficient across countless areas. But there will always be a gap between anticipating a need algorithmically and making someone feel genuinely appreciated. There’s a difference between personalized algorithmic recommendations and true hospitality. Products can be copied, features can be cloned, and even the biggest technological advantages eventually fade. But people almost never forget how you made them feel.
I still have about half of that original candle left. I’m keeping it as a reminder of just how powerful it is to make another person feel cared for. The companies that will thrive in the AI era won’t forget what it means to be human. And that’s why I believe hospitality is the most critical business discipline we’re barely talking about today.
The Most Underrated Business Discipline Is Hospitality
