Colonial narratives are printed and re-printed time and time again in the pages of glossy tourist brochures, thick guidebooks offering a comprehensive guide to your country of choice, or the blog of a self-proclaimed ‘nomad.’ While globe-trotting may seem like a rite of passage to you, something necessary or obligatory if you will, being an ethical traveller means remaining aware of your social footprint and the (often unethical) ways in which you may engage with cultures of the Global South, and the broader implications of the travel industry.
In particular, the dream of traversing Asia ‘on a shoestring’ turns a large profit. It lines the pockets of Western travel companies and travel writers alike, who exoticise or orientalise the ‘Global South’ — itself an imperial invention encouraging a binary of us versus them — for the white-traveller.
Immediately, the opening statement of the Philippines page on Lonely Planet online makes reference to the “smiling, happy-go-lucky people.” It regurgitates the colonial stereotype of docile submission to the international bourgeoisie. The spectacle here is not any tourist attraction of the Philippines (of which there are many) but the people themselves, who are apparently unified in their positive demeanour and servitude to tourists. The ‘happy-go-lucky’ stereotype continues in their ‘Destination: Philippines’ publication, where “many arrive expecting the country to be dangerous, [only] to discover instead a land of shiny, happy people.”
To Ruby Hamad, whiteness presents itself as akin to narcissism. Within the culture of global travel, this materialises as a constant flux between the desire to be served, and the perception of danger. According to this white imaginary, Filipinos are docile and willing to cater to every whim and desire. They are also, somehow, innately “dangerous” and menacing.
In comparison, a quick skim of the United Kingdom’s page will see zero reference to local people. Instead, there is reference to the ‘crucible of empire,’ which effectively erases the violence of colonialism and repurposes the English quest for global dominance as a glorious reason to visit the country. The message is clear: the Philippines and so-called ‘Global South’must continue to reckon with the implications of colonialism while the vestiges of empire remain a cause for celebration for those responsible for enacting colonial violence.
These stereotypes do not stop at the Philippines. Indeed, the ‘happy-go-lucky’ convention seems to be the Filipino manifestation of the submissive ‘China Doll.’ There are ongoing tangible impacts of these docile stereotypes as they created a market for sex tourism across Asia.
To the neoimperalist, Asia is the land of endless bounty, excessive in exploitative resources and sexually available, submissive women. In 2019, The Guardian reported that 1.2 million single men travel alone to the Philippines each year making up over 25% of the country’s annual tourist numbers.In 2015, Al Jazeera postulated a total of $400 million is spent on prostitution each year. The children of these relationships suffer the worst fates, with Al Jazeera and the Guardian recently reporting on the generational phenomena of fatherless children in poor areas and slums.
These colonial discourses are consistently reproduced in Western art and culture, re-victimising those whose lands and peoples were violently ravaged by colonial practices. A click through every Asian country on the Lonely Planet Asia drop-down will see a consistent regurgitation of spiritual experiences. This evokes the Eat Pray Love syndrome in which white travellers are centered in their search of spiritual ‘realness’, while ‘the other’ is only a conduit for such.
In the 2010 hit film Eat Pray Love, itself based on a 2006 memoir, Julia Roberts plays Liz Gilbert, a white woman facing a midlife crisis which can only be solved by traversing Italy, India, and Indonesia. Her time in India is framed by her short dabble in Hinduism, culminating in her romantic relationship with another foreigner after being transformed by the spiritual power of India. Once again, we see India repainted as the land of spiritual allure, a mystical shadowy place antithetical and unknown to the West as a nation of untapped transformative power. Lonely Planet plays into this with the “sumptuous mix of traditions, spiritual beliefs, festivals… set[ting] your memories ablaze” as an enticing pull quote. India is the land of liberation to the white traveller, where a ‘traditional’ lifestyle can liberate you from the stifling nine-to-five grind and teach you what truly matters.
Yet again , we arrive at the hypocritical stalemate of white identity. The ‘Global South’ is often deemed an alluring unknown to the ‘Global North,’ in turn encouraging a reductive way in which to view the world.
Most recently, the promises of ecotourism seem to greenwash the re-production of colonial narratives. Ecotourism is a form of tourism encompassing ‘nature-based activities that increase visitor appreciation and understanding of natural and cultural values’ and ‘environmentally responsible visiting of relatively unspoilt natural areas, in order to enjoy and appreciate nature.’ In practice, ecotourism is often critiqued for the neoliberalisation of conservation, as well as the adverse impacts it has in many cases — such as The Great Barrier Reef and the Maasai dispossession in Kenya, to name a few.
Engaging in ecotourism ventures seems to be the latest manifestation of white saviourism for many travellers. No, you are not somehow ethical by engaging in ecotourism without acknowledging the need for an ecological lifestyle on your own homefront, nor in recognising the ways in which Western nations are disproportionately responsible for the climate crisis. It’s patronising to local communities for travellers to assume their dollars are innately beneficial without taking responsibility for causing harm. Travel is not, and will never be, a humanitarian act — stop trying to make it one. Let’s not forget that amidst the cultural perception of beckoning natural landscapes and traditional peoples in the ‘Global South’ is the refusal to return stolen cultural artefacts that are still stored within the hallowed halls of Western museums.
Indigenous communities around the world continue to call for restrictions on tourism in acknowledgement of the adverse material impacts of the industry. Native Hawaiians continue to speak out against the ways in which their islands suffer greatly from tourism, increasingly urging tourists not to visit Hawaii. Many tourists continued to ignore these calls, including in the face of the raging fires that devastated Maui last year. Ethics of care greatly lack within the travel industry where travellers can routinely violate the sovereignty of the Indigenous inhabitants of the land.
In the case of Hawaii, we see Lonely Planet write that the islands are “synonymous with paradise” — begging the question: whom is it paradise for? Lonely Planet and other websites have a moral obligation to actively discourage tourism to places where ethical tourism is impossible. However, with Lonely Planet raking in approximately $271.1 million per year, we see both the demand and incentive for Western exploitation of the ‘Global South’. Transnational travel companies fill the pockets of Western employees, foreign-owned hotels, tour companies, and package holidays, rendering the entire travel industry a neocolonialist empire.
The pages of your travel guide are not free from the imperialist power dynamics that continue to shape state relations today. The normalisation of this makes it incumbent upon the individual traveller to truly reckon with their white identity, and the ways in which colonial ideologies can be unintentionally reproduced in one’s own tourist ventures.
Before you jetset in the winter break in search of warmer weather, please ask yourself: are you just another white person in the Philippines?