You wouldn’t think that that hotel housekeepers would be among the up to 100 million U.S. jobs that AI is expected to eliminate in the next 10 years. These jobs were supposed to be safe. We don’t yet have self-making beds, self-vacuuming carpets, and self-cleaning toilets. But only in high-end hotels does the daily service continue — thanks to skimpflating hotel chains and persnickety guests.
I don’t want to sentimentalize this grueling, back-breaking work. But some people still depend on it. Experts estimated five years ago that eliminating daily housekeeping would mean up to 40% fewer housekeepers’ jobs and $5 billion less annual payroll. I would like to know where those folks are going to get work. We’re told AI will create some new jobs for those with undergraduate and advanced degrees. I’ll believe it when ChatGPT tells me it’s occurred. But half of our neighbors still have just a high school education. Our economy was already terrible at creating work for them. The coming AI wave will be catastrophic.
Unionized hotels in some cities, including Los Angeles, have contracts that require daily room cleaning. My hotel in Montgomery, Alabama is evidently not among them. I’m coming to the end of a four-day stay when no one besides me entered my room. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t need daily fresh towels and sheets. I haven’t yet filled up the waste basket and recycling, the front desk had extra pods for my morning coffee, and I can make my own bed. I’m not saying I do.
Scrubbing daily housekeeping has been in play for years. Long before Covid, hotels tried to make a virtue out of trimming hours for housekeeping and laundry workers by leaving messages in our rooms imploring us to save the planet by relieving them of the expense of washing sheets and towels. These messages were printed in Jimi Hendrix fonts to signify the best of intentions. Hotels couldn’t wait to lay off housekeepers during the pandemic. This of course was also for our safety and convenience.
But it’s not just stingy hotels. More and more customers don’t want strangers touching their stuff. This isn’t my particular concern. Though I don’t need anybody to pick up after me, I don’t complain when someone does. But some folks prefer to hang the do not disturb sign and call the front desk when they need towels and toilet paper.
I hope they least give the person a tip when it’s delivered. If I had my way, everybody would skip the self-checkout at the supermarket, since the computer doesn’t have to feed its family, and demand daily housekeeping services when making a hotel reservation. But if you’re already checked in, and no one comes, it’s a bad idea to complain, because they’ll just pile more work on the dwindling staff.
And even if you never see the housekeeper, please leave a tip. For the time being, they’re still there, cleaning up after you before the next lonely patron. One day soon, a human won’t even answer the phone at the front desk. The phone in my room doesn’t work as it is. Check in and free breakfast will all be automated. Hall robots in Jeeves suits will deliver soap and TP and pick up trash. Security will watch us remotely. Nobody in the place will have a job besides the guests. If we’re lucky.