Why can't hospitality build a stable, happy workforce?

An industry that loses people faster than it can train them definitely isn’t sustainable — something has to change, writes Orla McAndrew

Like so many women, I grew up with the idea that hospitality wasn’t really suitable for mothers, or for anyone who wanted a steady life. File photo

I've been thinking a lot about the future of hospitality in Ireland, and it feels like a conversation we need to keep returning to. Everywhere you look, places are struggling to keep staff. 

Training colleges are doing their best to encourage students, yet so many young people seem unsure about committing to the industry long term. Anyone who works in food or even brushes up against it can sense the unease. Something is shifting, and I find myself paying closer attention than ever.

My own thoughts on this were sparked in an unexpected place. I was sitting on an interview panel for a culinary arts lecturer role. I didn’t feel like an expert sitting there. I’m a small-scale caterer with a tiny team. A mum. Someone who works in food but definitely not someone who claims to know the entire industry inside out. 

What struck me that day was how naturally every candidate spoke about using AI in their teaching. They weren’t talking about flashy or futuristic ideas. They talked about using AI to make menu costing easier, to track waste more efficiently and to lighten the admin load students often get buried under. 

As a luddite and a reluctant adapter, I was impressed. They were miles ahead of me. But when I left the room and gave myself space to think, the AI piece wasn’t what stayed with me. 

What lingered was the bigger question behind it. Why is hospitality in Ireland still finding it so difficult to build and keep a stable, happy workforce.

It’s something I understand in a personal way because it actually took me a long time to enter the industry myself. Like so many women, I grew up with the idea that hospitality wasn’t really suitable for mothers, or for anyone who wanted a steady life. 

The image I had in my head was long punishing hours, poor pay and a culture that demanded your entire self. And for many people, that was the reality. Probably still is. 

It’s taken me years to create a little niche that allows me to use my passion and my skills but still have a life outside of it. I’m grateful for it every day. And I’m very aware that this privilege isn’t available to everyone working in hospitality.

I’m not someone with decades of mainstream kitchen experience. I don’t have a big restaurant or a hotel. What I know comes from the edges. From friends who work front of house or in kitchens. From conversations at school gates. From young people I meet along the way. 

Conditions in the industry

But even from that limited view, the pattern is glaringly obvious. People don’t leave hospitality because they lack the talent or the interest. They leave because of the conditions.

Covid shifted people’s tolerance. There’s far less willingness now to put up with bullying, shouting or chaos being excused as “just how it is”. Work/life balance isn’t a bonus anymore. It’s an expectation. And younger workers, in particular, aren’t shy about saying so.

A moment on a train recently brought this into sharp focus. I got chatting with two college students who had done part-time work in hospitality. They were bright, sharp girls. 

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They told me about the shifts they had worked, the customers they had served and the confidence they now have in knowing what they won’t tolerate. They joked about the involuntary eye roll they both get when a customer asks something truly thoughtless. 

Beneath the humour was something more important. They already expect fair treatment, decent rotas and basic respect. They are not afraid to walk away from a job that feels wrong. At 19 or 20, they are more aware of their value than many people my age were at 30.

Even in my tiny way, I see the importance of culture. My small team often tells me it never feels like work when we’re together. I don’t take that lightly. 

It reminds me that hospitality is at its best when the atmosphere is safe, kind and supportive. That sense of ease matters more than any technical skill.

Of course, there are structural challenges too. Wages that don’t always keep pace with the cost of living. Short staffing that pushes the remaining staff harder. An industry that still relies on the stamina and patience of people who are already stretched. 

It’s hard to imagine a long-term career in a system that’s constantly under strain. These issues shape everyone’s experience.

AI and hospitality

This brings me back to AI again, but in a softer way. I’m never going to be someone who gets excited about technological advances. But I can see how AI might help around the edges. 

If it can speed up admin, or help track waste more efficiently, or ease some of the pressure on managers and chefs, then I understand why educators are using it. And anything that reduces food waste is something I’ll always stand behind. 

But no tool will ever replace what makes hospitality meaningful. It can only support it. I often think we forget that sustainability isn’t just about ingredients or carbon footprints. 

A workforce has to be sustainable too. Burnout isn’t sustainable. A culture of fear or pressure isn’t sustainable. An industry that loses people faster than it can train them definitely isn’t sustainable. 

So if AI can help a little, fine. But the real change will come from how people are treated.

I keep circling back to the same thought. The future of hospitality will depend on whether young workers feel valued enough to stay. 

I don’t have perfect answers. I’m just someone paying attention. And the more I listen, the more it feels like this is the conversation that matters.

• Orla McAndrew is a Cork-based chef and writer working at the intersection of food, sustainability, and culture.