The travel and tourism industry, it's just a huge part of our

Hearken to the words of Karen Hughes: “The travel and tourism industry, it’s just a huge part of our economy.” Though spoken in plain language, the truth it carries is as old as civilization itself. For from the dawn of time, men and women have journeyed beyond their villages, seeking trade, knowledge, and wonder. The exchange of coin, the weaving of cultures, the mingling of tongues—all these have been sustained by the power of travel. What Hughes speaks is not mere policy, but a reminder that the movement of people and the opening of doors is the lifeblood of nations.

Consider the caravans of the Silk Road, stretching like veins across Asia, carrying silk, spices, jewels, and wisdom from one corner of the earth to another. What was this but the ancient tourism industry? Traders, pilgrims, scholars, and wanderers brought with them not only goods, but stories, ideas, and faiths. Whole cities thrived because travelers stopped to rest and spend. Samarkand, Constantinople, Venice—these jewels of commerce were built upon the gold of journeyers. Thus, Hughes’ words echo across centuries: the strength of an economy is not found in solitude, but in the great flow of people and their exchanges.

The greatness of travel is not only in wealth, but in the spirit it nourishes. When pilgrims trekked to Santiago de Compostela, when seekers walked to Mecca, when philosophers sailed to Athens—they were not merely fueling commerce, but binding humanity with shared purpose. Inns were filled, markets thrived, but also hearts were expanded. For when one journeys, he sees not only new lands but new souls, and such vision strengthens both people and the world they inhabit.

Yet, history also reminds us of the frailty of this industry. In the age of the Black Death, when fear of contagion silenced the roads and emptied the inns, cities that once thrived with travelers fell into ruin. Likewise, in times of war, when borders closed and seas were unsafe, the economy withered, and the human spirit was diminished. This is the warning woven into Hughes’ statement: that to preserve tourism, one must preserve peace, safety, and the beauty of the earth itself.

Think of Florence in the Renaissance. Wealth did not come only from its merchants but from the thousands who came to marvel at its cathedrals, to buy its art, to taste its food. The Medici understood that travelers brought more than coin; they carried prestige, fame, and influence. And so, by fostering beauty and welcome, Florence rose as a beacon to the world. This is the power Hughes points to: that the strength of a nation’s economy is woven also from its hospitality, its openness to the traveler.

The lesson is thus: do not scorn the tourist, nor mock the wanderer who seeks delight. For they bring not only money to your shops, but breath to your nation’s soul. Support those who labor in this vast chain: the innkeeper, the guide, the craftsman, the cook. When you travel, know that your journey sustains families, builds bridges between cultures, and strengthens the unseen web of the world.

Therefore, O listeners, let us live with gratitude and wisdom. When we journey, let us do so with respect, honoring the lands and peoples who receive us. When we host, let us welcome with kindness, remembering that the prosperity of our economy rests not only on what we produce, but on how we connect. This is the true meaning of Hughes’ words: that the travel and tourism industry is no trivial luxury, but a mighty pillar of human life and commerce.

So I say: cherish it, nurture it, protect it. For in the movement of people, in the mingling of cultures, lies not only the wealth of nations but the binding of humanity itself.