Dear 2026,
We have just stepped into you, and before the rhythm accelerates again, it feels necessary to pause for a moment and be clear about what we hope you will represent.
Not a year of slogans. Not a year of cosmetic change. But a year where we, as an industry, accept that certain choices are no longer optional, and that maturity sometimes begins with recognising what we have not yet been able to do consistently. Not because we did not know better, but because acting on that knowledge has often proved uncomfortable.
From a travel retail perspective, the wish is simple to express and much harder to deliver: May you be the year when we stop mistaking traffic for value. Passenger numbers will likely remain strong. Terminals will keep expanding. Tenders will keep coming. And it is tempting for all of us to take reassurance from that momentum. We have all done it at times.
But if by the end of 2026 we are still justifying weak experiences with strong volumes, then we will not have learned very much.
May 2026 be the year when we stop mistaking traffic for value. Passenger numbers will likely remain strong. Terminals will keep expanding. But if by the end of 2026 we are still justifying weak experiences with strong volumes, then we will not have learned very much.
Volume is not a strategy. It is, at best, an opportunity. At worst, an excuse we sometimes allow ourselves to use.
May you be the year when frontline service finally stops being treated as a soft topic and starts being recognised for what it really is: a commercial lever. Not a cost to compress. Not a box to tick through training hours. But a decisive factor in conversion, loyalty and credibility.
We talk about service constantly, yet too often we stop short of designing for it properly, investing in it consistently, or measuring it with the same rigour we apply elsewhere. If service only becomes central when things go wrong, then the system, and our own decisions within it, remain misaligned.
May you also be the year of braver and more mature choices. Fewer categories. Clearer propositions. Less noise.
If service only becomes central when things go wrong, then the system, and our own decisions within it, remain misaligned
Much of today’s offer still feels safe, repetitive and inflated beyond what travellers genuinely value. Complexity has often been mistaken for richness. Simplification, instead, is too easily read as a loss of ambition. In reality, it is often the clearest sign that a market has grown confident enough to choose focus over accumulation.
And finally, may you force us to address value for money without defensiveness. Travellers are not less willing to spend. We see that every day. They are simply less willing to feel foolish doing so. When pricing, service and experience are not aligned, no amount of storytelling will close that gap. This is not a new insight. What is new is how little room there is left to ignore it.
None of these ideas are revolutionary. That is precisely the problem. They are not unknown. They are not misunderstood. What has been missing time and again is the collective readiness to act on them with discipline rather than intention.
What has been missing time and again is the collective readiness to act on them with discipline rather than intention.
From a more personal standpoint, and from the perspective of 2.0 & Partners, the wish for 2026 is equally demanding. May it be a year of discipline rather than expansion for its own sake. Of staying close to the field, not just to frameworks. Of continuing to work in real environments, with all their imperfections, rather than abstract models that only look convincing on slides.
May we remain independent in our thinking, even when that makes conversations less comfortable. If we expect the industry to be more honest with itself, we must accept the same standard for our own work. Measuring impact. Questioning effectiveness. Resisting the temptation to oversimplify complex realities simply because they are easier to sell.
Above all, may 2026 be the year where consistency matters more than visibility. Where doing fewer things better proves more valuable than doing many things loudly.
If these expectations sound demanding, it is because the moment demands it. Standing still is no longer neutral. It is a choice, and not a particularly safe one.
So, dear 2026, this is not a letter filled with optimism by default. It is a letter filled with expectations. Let us hope that when we write again at the end of the year, we will be able to say that some of them were met. Not perfectly. But consciously.
That, already, would be progress.