Airbnb in the Dock, While Hotels Stay Out of the FrameAcross Europe’s most visited cities, from Venice to Barcelona, from Rome to Lisbon, Airbnb has become the default culprit in the debate over the emptying out of historic centres. As residents leave and neighbourhoods lose their everyday life, short-term rentals are frequently presented as the main driver of displacement, rising rents and overtourism. Yet this narrative, while not entirely unfounded, risks obscuring a more complex reality. In particular, it leaves largely unexamined the role played by the traditional hospitality sector and, increasingly, by large international hotel chains.Over the past decade, hotel associations such as Federalberghi in Italy and HOTREC at the European level have been among the most vocal advocates for tighter regulation of short-term rentals. Their argument is consistent and often persuasive. Hotels, they say, operate under strict safety rules, labour regulations and tax obligations, while private rentals enjoy lighter oversight and lower costs. In this view, platforms like Airbnb distort competition and fuel an uncontrolled expansion of tourist accommodation in residential areas. There is truth in this claim. In many cities, short-term rentals have indeed reduced the availability of long-term housing and contributed to price inflation. Airbnb has undeniably accelerated the touristification of entire neighbourhoods, making the transformation faster, more visible and easier to scale. But acceleration should not be confused with origin. The gradual emptying of historic centres long predates the arrival of digital platforms. In cities such as Venice, Florence and Rome, population decline began decades ago, driven by rising property values, the conversion of homes into offices or tourist facilities, and urban policies that favoured visitors over residents. The arrival of Airbnb did not create these dynamics, but it did fit neatly into an urban economy already oriented toward short-term profit and high tourist turnover. Framing Airbnb as the root cause risks turning it into a convenient scapegoat, one that allows deeper structural issues to remain unaddressed. What is often missing from the public conversation is a serious examination of the hotel sector itself, particularly its evolution over the last twenty years. Hotels have always occupied prime locations in historic centres, frequently housed in former residential buildings. More recently, however, the landscape has changed. Large international groups such as Accor and Marriott International have significantly expanded their footprint in European cities, acquiring entire buildings and converting them into hotels, aparthotels or serviced residences. Unlike individual Airbnb hosts, these operators remove whole blocks of housing from the residential market in a single transaction. Their impact is permanent and structural. Once a palace or residential building becomes a hotel, it is extremely unlikely to return to housing use. Yet this process is rarely framed as part of the housing crisis. Hotels are seen as legitimate, regulated and economically valuable, while short-term rentals are portrayed as disruptive and informal. This imbalance matters because it shapes policy outcomes. When cities restrict Airbnb without addressing the broader hospitality market, the result is not necessarily a return of housing to residents. In many cases, properties simply shift toward professional operators with greater capital and lobbying power. Small hosts exit the market, while institutional players consolidate their position. The city becomes no less tourist-oriented, but far more concentrated in fewer hands. The clash between hotels and short-term rentals is therefore not just a debate about urban wellbeing. It is also a market battle, one in which established players seek to protect their share against a disruptive competitor. The language of resident protection and urban sustainability is often used, but rarely accompanied by meaningful discussions about housing policy, rent controls, public services or incentives for long-term residency. If the goal is to bring life back into historic centres, regulating Airbnb alone will not suffice. Without broader interventions, restrictions risk functioning as symbolic gestures or as tools that unintentionally reinforce the dominance of large hospitality groups. The deeper issue is the transformation of cities into financial assets, where both housing and hospitality are evaluated primarily through their revenue potential rather than their social function. Airbnb deserves scrutiny, but so do hotels, chains and the urban model that has allowed tourism to become the dominant economic logic of Europe’s most beautiful cities. Treating one actor as the problem while exempting the others may be politically expedient, but it does little to reverse the hollowing out of city centres. The real challenge lies not in choosing between Airbnb and hotels, but in deciding whether cities are meant to be lived in or merely consumed.

Across Europe’s most visited cities, from Venice to Barcelona, from Rome to Lisbon, Airbnb has become the default culprit in the debate over the emptying out of historic centres. As residents leave and neighbourhoods lose their everyday life, short-term rentals are frequently presented as the main driver of displacement, rising rents and overtourism. Yet this narrative, while not entirely unfounded, risks obscuring a more complex reality. In particular, it leaves largely unexamined the role played by the traditional hospitality sector and, increasingly, by large international hotel chains. Over the past decade, hotel associations such as Federalberghi in Italy and HOTREC at the European level have been among the most vocal advocates for tighter regulation of short-term rentals. Their argument is consistent and often persuasive. Hotels, they say, operate under strict safety rules, labour regulations and tax obligations, while private rentals enjoy lighter oversight and lower costs. In this view, platforms like Airbnb distort competition and fuel an uncontrolled expansion of tourist accommodation in residential areas. There is truth in this claim. In many cities, short-term rentals have indeed reduced the availability of long-term housing and contributed to price inflation. Airbnb has undeniably accelerated the touristification of entire neighbourhoods, making the transformation faster, more visible and easier to scale. But acceleration should not be confused with origin. The gradual emptying of historic centres long predates the arrival of digital platforms. In cities such as Venice, Florence and Rome, population decline began decades ago, driven by rising property values, the conversion of homes into offices or tourist facilities, and urban policies that favoured visitors over residents. The arrival of Airbnb did not create these dynamics, but it did fit neatly into an urban economy already oriented toward short-term profit and high tourist turnover. Framing Airbnb as the root cause risks turning it into a convenient scapegoat, one that allows deeper structural issues to remain unaddressed. What is often missing from the public conversation is a serious examination of the hotel sector itself, particularly its evolution over the last twenty years. Hotels have always occupied prime locations in historic centres, frequently housed in former residential buildings. More recently, however, the landscape has changed. Large international groups such as Accor and Marriott International have significantly expanded their footprint in European cities, acquiring entire buildings and converting them into hotels, aparthotels or serviced residences. Unlike individual Airbnb hosts, these operators remove whole blocks of housing from the residential market in a single transaction. Their impact is permanent and structural. Once a palace or residential building becomes a hotel, it is extremely unlikely to return to housing use. Yet this process is rarely framed as part of the housing crisis. Hotels are seen as legitimate, regulated and economically valuable, while short-term rentals are portrayed as disruptive and informal. This imbalance matters because it shapes policy outcomes. When cities restrict Airbnb without addressing the broader hospitality market, the result is not necessarily a return of housing to residents. In many cases, properties simply shift toward professional operators with greater capital and lobbying power. Small hosts exit the market, while institutional players consolidate their position. The city becomes no less tourist-oriented, but far more concentrated in fewer hands. The clash between hotels and short-term rentals is therefore not just a debate about urban wellbeing. It is also a market battle, one in which established players seek to protect their share against a disruptive competitor. The language of resident protection and urban sustainability is often used, but rarely accompanied by meaningful discussions about housing policy, rent controls, public services or incentives for long-term residency. If the goal is to bring life back into historic centres, regulating Airbnb alone will not suffice. Without broader interventions, restrictions risk functioning as symbolic gestures or as tools that unintentionally reinforce the dominance of large hospitality groups. The deeper issue is the transformation of cities into financial assets, where both housing and hospitality are evaluated primarily through their revenue potential rather than their social function. Airbnb deserves scrutiny, but so do hotels, chains and the urban model that has allowed tourism to become the dominant economic logic of Europe’s most beautiful cities. Treating one actor as the problem while exempting the others may be politically expedient, but it does little to reverse the hollowing out of city centres. The real challenge lies not in choosing between Airbnb and hotels, but in deciding whether cities are meant to be lived in or merely consumed.