As hospitality brands chase viral moments, many are abandoning the cultural foundations that once made them meaningful. Germaine Woon argues that in this landscape, authenticity rooted in purpose isn’t just a competitive advantage, it’s the industry’s most undervalued source of resilience.
In an industry obsessed with the next big opening and viral moments, food and beverage is losing what made it special in the first place. As hospitality brands chase trends and fight for social media attention, the deeper cultural foundations that create lasting connections with guests are being sacrificed for short-term buzz. It’s time to remember that authenticity isn’t just good marketing, it’s the key to survival.
We’re living through a fascinating paradox in hospitality, a golden age of restaurant openings that’s also, quietly, an age of profound fatigue. New venues are launching at unprecedented speed, backed by incredible talent, ambition, and ideas that would have seemed impossible just a few years ago. Social media has changed everything: it’s democratised culinary fame, brought investment into the industry, and created a seemingly endless appetite for new experiences. Yet behind the energy and optimism, operators are wrestling with razor-thin margins, widespread team burnout, and a question that keeps many awake at night—how long can we actually sustain this pace?

The contradictions are striking. Restaurants have never been more celebrated, photographed, or culturally significant. They’ve also never been more precarious as businesses. This tension reveals something important about where we are right now and why we’ve perhaps confused visibility with viability, buzz with genuine business strength.
Working across nine cities in Asia (through my business The Foundry), I’ve had the privilege of witnessing chefs, hoteliers, and entrepreneurs pour extraordinary heart into their projects. I’ve also seen just how challenging it is to keep that heart intact, to maintain energy, clarity, and sense of purpose in an industry that moves at lightning speed and rarely pauses for reflection.
The uncomfortable truth is that doing things “right” isn’t always enough anymore. The rules have fundamentally shifted.
Food media is exploding, creating both incredible opportunities and overwhelming noise. New concepts emerge weekly, each competing for increasingly fragmented attention spans. The digital ecosystem rewards novelty and punishes predictability, creating strange incentives for constant change. As the pressure to stay visible, relevant, and “on trend” intensifies, many businesses find themselves in perpetual reinvention mode—not because they want to evolve, but because they feel they have to just to survive. Short-term reactions replace long-term strategy. Planning horizons shrink from years to months, sometimes weeks. In this frantic cycle, culture gets pushed aside in favour of whatever works right now.
This isn’t just happening to individual venues, it’s affecting entire hospitality ecosystems. Cities compete for culinary capital status. Investors want quick returns. Landlords demand premium rents based on Instagram potential rather than operational fundamentals. The pressure is everywhere, and its effects are predictably damaging.

Too often, we witness a troubling prioritisation of surface over substance. Beautiful aesthetics without meaningful anchoring. Compelling narratives that lack genuine roots. These elements might generate short-lived buzz, but they rarely build the kind of resilience that sustains businesses through tough periods. When the underlying story feels hollow, the experience becomes forgettable, no matter how polished the branding or how perfect the photography.
Culture is what gives a hospitality brand real depth. It works as both compass and anchor, guiding decisions whilst providing stability when markets get turbulent. Culture transforms transactional spaces into lasting memories, routine meals into meaningful rituals. It creates that intangible but unmistakable sense of belonging that guests find hard to describe but never forget.
Culture shows up in the details: the way staff greet guests that reflects deeper values about human connection, the stories behind menu items that honour ingredients and their origins, the music that acts as emotional backdrop, the wonderful aromas drifting from an open kitchen—all those things you don’t consciously register but absolutely feel. It’s there in how team members talk about their work, the consistency of experience across different visits, the authentic reasoning behind design choices.
Most importantly, culture provides resilience. When market conditions shift, trends fade, or competition heats up, brands with genuine cultural foundations can adapt without losing their essential character. They bend without breaking because their identity runs deeper than surface aesthetics or temporary market positioning.
I first learned this through my earliest experiences working on MONO, the fine-dining Latin American restaurant by Chef Ricardo Chaneton. Ricardo didn’t just talk about culture, he lived and breathed it through every detail of the space. My mentor, Cathy Chon (Managing Partner at Finn Partners), helped me find the language for what I was witnessing. She showed me how to articulate what exceptional chefs instinctively understand: culture isn’t a nice-to-have garnish. It’s the foundation everything else is built on.
I’ve been working in and around this industry since I was 17 years old, from service floors to marketing departments, and now alongside some of the region’s most respected talents: Chef Yoshihiro Narisawa (Narisawa), Chef May Chow (Little Bao), Beckaly Franks (Artifact & Call Me Al), and Antonio Lai (Quinary, The Opposites). What connects all of them is their belief in the power of authenticity and integrity—expressed not just through food or drink, but through character, conviction, and culture in its truest sense. That word gets thrown around a lot, but to me it means genuinely knowing who you are and sticking to it, even when trends try to pull you in different directions.

I make it a priority to work across different cultural contexts, including with our own team, which spans talent across four cities. Each place has its own rhythms, values, and ways of expressing authenticity—from Singapore’s collaborative directness to Japan’s refined hospitality traditions, Hong Kong’s entrepreneurial spirit to Manila’s emerging sophistication. Our job is to honour these differences whilst creating brands that are emotionally resonant, commercially smart, and culturally grounded.
This cultural understanding isn’t just academic—it’s commercially essential. In an era where authenticity is constantly scrutinised, brands that try to appropriate rather than genuinely appreciate cultural elements get called out quickly. Meanwhile, those that show real understanding and respect create much deeper connections with both local communities and international audiences.
This approach isn’t about avoiding trends or playing it safe. It’s about anchoring innovation in identity. We design experiences that aren’t just exciting—they’re irreplaceable. The goal is creating hospitality brands that have what economists call “monopolistic competition”—unique positioning that makes direct comparison almost impossible. When a restaurant or bar becomes synonymous with a particular feeling, memory, or cultural moment, it moves beyond the brutal arithmetic of competing purely on price or convenience.
Ultimately, we’re cultivating hospitality brands that can grow without losing their soul. This might mean slower expansion, more selective partnerships, or turning down opportunities that promise quick wins at the expense of long-term integrity. It requires discipline that can look commercially irrational in the moment but proves strategically wise over time.
The industry is undoubtedly under pressure. But it’s also brimming with possibility—especially for those willing to build with intention rather than just momentum. For operators who choose to start with authentic foundations rather than tactical quick fixes.
Because when culture and people sit at the heart of what you do, you’re not just creating a venue. You’re creating meaning. And in a world full of noise, that depth of purpose is what draws people back—and reminds us all why this work mattered in the first place.
Germaine Woon is the Founder and Managing Director of The Foundry Asia.