Goldman's Crystal Ball Shows $90 Billion Tourism Shortfall

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Goldman Sachs just took an eraser to America's tourism outlook, and they're not being subtle about it. The investment bank slashed its US tourism revenue forecast for 2025 by a jaw-dropping $90 billion, according to Bloomberg.

Ninety. Billion. Dollars.

There's something almost comical about the precision of that number — not $89 billion or $91 billion, but a clean, round figure that looks like it was plucked from a banker's fever dream. (Having covered economic forecasts for years, I can tell you these suspiciously round numbers often hide messier calculations beneath.)

The timing couldn't be more telling. We've all watched the post-pandemic travel boom — that frenzied "revenge travel" phenomenon where folks who'd been cooped up for years suddenly splurged on dream vacations they'd postponed. It was always going to cool down. Goldman just put an exact price tag on that cooling.

Look, predicting tourism spending is about as reliable as forecasting the weather six months out. You're essentially trying to get inside the heads of millions of people making deeply personal decisions about their money and time.

Will families choose Disney World despite the eye-watering prices? Will international travelers still find America worth visiting with the dollar riding high? And what about all those business travelers who discovered they could close deals over Zoom in their pajamas?

I've long thought about tourism spending as existing in this tense battle between aspiration and financial reality. We desperately want those Instagram-worthy experiences, but our bank accounts keep sending increasingly desperate notifications.

The forecast adjustment probably reflects what many of us are already feeling. Inflation has been brutal. Airfares, while down from their worst post-pandemic peaks, still make your eyes water. And have you SEEN hotel rates lately? I checked prices for a standard room in Miami last week and nearly choked on my coffee.

The international equation makes things even trickier. Our strong dollar is a double-edged sword — it makes American vacations prohibitively expensive for foreigners while simultaneously making that European getaway look like a relative bargain for Americans. When Brits or Japanese tourists convert our prices to their currencies... yikes.

What fascinates me about this $90 billion projection isn't just the big number, but all the little numbers hidden inside it. We're talking about countless small businesses in places like Orlando, Vegas, and New York—the tour operators, family restaurants, and souvenir shops that depend on tourism dollars.

Tourism also faces some deeper challenges beyond just economic cycles. Climate concerns are reshaping travel habits. Remote work has blurred the lines between business and leisure travel (hello, "bleisure" trips). And wealth concentration means the luxury travel sector might stay robust while mid-market tourism struggles.

Of course, Goldman's record with predictions isn't exactly spotless. These are the same financial wizards who once confidently predicted oil would hit $200 a barrel right before it crashed spectacularly. Their tourism crystal ball might be just as cloudy.

Tourism forecasts are particularly vulnerable to unexpected events. One geopolitical crisis, one viral outbreak, or one currency shock can render even the most sophisticated model worthless overnight.

Smart players in the tourism industry will probably hope Goldman's wrong while planning as if they're right. The post-pandemic boom couldn't last forever, and businesses that built their models expecting perpetual growth were always playing a dangerous game.

Perhaps the real question isn't whether Goldman nailed the exact number, but why we put so much stock in these seemingly precise forecasts of fundamentally unpredictable human behavior. Tourism, at its core, is millions of personal decisions filtered through economic realities and emotional desires.

But hey—at least now I know exactly how much less we'll collectively spend on overpriced airport cappuccinos and tacky refrigerator magnets next year. Down to the last billion.