When Claire Beach asked a small eco-lodge in the Bay of Islands how they were tracking toward carbon-zero operations, the owner sighed and said, "They want the whole area to be carbon-zero by 2030—tell us what the hell that means." That moment, captured in Beach’s new study, reflects a nationwide struggle: even as tourism businesses across Aotearoa New Zealand earnestly pursue sustainability, they’re navigating a maze of shifting definitions, overlapping certifications, and resource constraints that make progress anything but linear. With tourism contributing over 20% of New Zealand’s GDP, the stakes are high—not just for the environment, but for the integrity of an industry built on the country’s pristine landscapes and Māori cultural heritage. Beach’s research, published in the Journal of Hospitality and Tourism Management, draws on interviews with owners, CEOs, and sustainability leads from adventure tour operators in Queenstown to wildlife lodges in Kaikōura, revealing a sector eager to act but often stalled by confusion and inequity.

The study identifies three common stages in a business’s sustainability journey: initial consideration and implementation, embedding practices into daily operations, and eventually collaborating with others to drive systemic change. Yet few follow this path in a straight line. Many companies advance, stall, or even regress—often because key sustainability efforts are tied to a single passionate employee. One operator in Rotorua lost momentum when their sustainability manager left; another in Wanaka had five separate green initiatives running simultaneously but no formal policy to sustain them. Certification programs like B Corp offer credibility but come with steep costs and administrative burdens, placing them out of reach for smaller firms. Meanwhile, nearly half of the businesses surveyed still struggle with recycling—not because they lack will, but because local rules vary, seasonal tourism spikes waste volumes, and visitor behavior is hard to control.

Still, there are bright spots. Digitalization has emerged as a widespread and effective step, with operators from Abel Tasman to Tongariro replacing paper tickets, receipts, and check-ins with online systems—cutting costs and emissions with minimal staff training. Yet Beach emphasizes that even small wins depend on clarity. "There’s no end state," she notes. "We thought carbon neutral was it, then carbon zero, then regenerative, and now nature positive. There’s probably already something out there for what comes next." Her call is for unified standards, accessible training, and baseline measurements in energy, water, and waste—practical tools that can turn intention into impact. As one mountain lodge owner put it, "We didn’t realize how much we were using until we measured it—and then the savings paid for the sensors in six months."

The path forward isn’t about perfection, Beach argues, but persistence. With clearer language, shared goals, and support for smaller operators, New Zealand’s tourism sector could become a model of collective action—where sustainability isn’t a buzzword, but a way of doing business.