Tourist destinations live on a fragile, often invisible balance ⚖️. They do not simply sell landscapes, events or services, but an implicit promise of peace of mind 🕊️: the idea that, at least for the duration of a holiday, the environment is safe, supervised and predictable. When this promise is broken by a tragedy 💔, the crisis that follows is not only human, legal or administrative. It is also a crisis of trust and communication 📉, with direct consequences for the future of the destination itself.
The case of Crans-Montana, hit by a dramatic event on New Year’s Eve 🎆, clearly shows how complex it is for a holiday resort to manage the “after”. With full respect for the victims, their families and the ongoing investigations 🙏, what emerges strongly is a structural and communicative issue: how can a destination communicate when its name — until the day before synonymous with leisure and lightness — suddenly becomes linked to fear, insecurity and shared responsibility 😟? A challenge made even more critical by the fact that, in this case, the alleged responsibilities of a private operator intersect with gaps in public safety oversight 🚨.
This is where the typical communicative short circuit of tragedies in holiday settings is triggered ⚡. Places built around the idea of relaxation and enjoyment are suddenly flooded by opposite emotions: anger 😠, a sense of betrayal 💔, disorientation 😵. Media attention immediately becomes international 🌍 and often long-lasting. Images settle into collective memory 🖼️, testimonies multiply, and reconstructions — frequently partial — overlap. In this context, institutional responses are never neutral ⚠️: they become communication in themselves, often negative. Not communicating leaves the narrative to others — to images, emotional fragments and speculation — without any authoritative frame. Communicating, however, can also expose gaps in attention, clashing sharply with the narrative of “efficiency” and “flawlessness” 🔧.
In recent years, this implicit pact between destinations and visitors has been further eroded by several tragic accidents involving lift systems ⛷️ — iconic symbols of mountain tourism and of the promise of safe access. Precisely because they are perceived as highly regulated infrastructures, cable cars and gondolas hold a special place in the tourist imagination 🎢: they are not just transport, but part of the experience and a pillar of trust in the system.
When these installations have been the scene of serious accidents ⚠️ — in Italy and elsewhere in Europe — the impact on public opinion has been immediate and deep 💥. Falling cabins, tampered or malfunctioning safety systems, inspections revealed as insufficient only after the tragedy have shaken a basic assumption: that certain risks were now under control. These were not isolated events, but moments capable of generating a widespread sense of vulnerability 🌐, amplified by images and videos circulating across media and social platforms, often without context or mediation.
In these situations, reputational damage goes far beyond the installation or its operator 🏨: it hits the entire destination. For tourists, the distinction between individual responsibility and institutional responsibility barely exists 🤷. The perception is brutally simple: if it happened there, then that place is not safe, not properly managed ❌. It is this instant, emotional yet unavoidable judgement that causes the deepest and most lasting damage — one that no short-term marketing campaign can undo ⏳. In this context, talking about “sustainability” 🌱 or “precision” risks sounding hollow if fundamental issues such as the safety of residents, tourism workers and visitors are not fully addressed. Safety is not an accessory value; it is the foundation of any credible destination 🏛️.
The recent death of a security officer at the Olympic Ice Stadium ⛸️ in one of the host locations for the 2026 Winter Olympic Games brings back a similar, muted sense of anger 😔. According to initial reports, the death may have been caused by a heart attack ❤️🩹 — an event belonging to the personal and clinical sphere — yet it cannot be completely separated from the context in which it occurred: demanding working conditions 🥶, extremely low temperatures ❄️, high levels of responsibility ⚡, and the operational isolation of a role carried out at a time and in a place where immediate assistance was not guaranteed. Even when the ultimate cause is natural, context still matters.
Faced with crises like these, many destinations retreat into a defensive narrative 🛡️. Events are downplayed, responsibility subtly shifted, and rigid lines are drawn between what is personal and what is systemic, between what is unpredictable and what might have been preventable. Clarifications are postponed to investigations 🕵️, the idea of an “isolated incident” is repeated, in an attempt to detach the tragedy from the organisation or those responsible for managing infrastructure and events. This reaction may be understandable from a legal perspective ⚖️, but it is often counterproductive reputationally. The public is not asking for premature verdicts or instant technical conclusions ❌. It is asking for empathy ❤️, accountability ✅, transparency around processes 📝 and, above all, a clear sense that someone is truly learning from what happened 🔍 — or at least questioning the conditions that made it possible.
This is not the first time a tourist destination has faced such a sharp fracture between its identity and the narrative of crime reporting. In Italy, a telling precedent is the so-called “Cogne case” 🏘️, which in the early 2000s turned Cogne from a symbol of family tourism into a name constantly associated with a horrific crime. In that case, the difficulty in quickly identifying a perpetrator fuelled an even more insidious perception: the irrational yet powerful idea that danger was not confined to a closed event, but potentially still present ⚠️.
For a destination that had built its positioning largely around families 👨👩👧👦, in both summer and winter, that media pressure posed a serious risk. It was in this context that, following a decisive initiative by the local public administration 🏛️ and with the involvement of tourism operators 🏨, my team of destination management experts intervened — not to deny the issue, but to rethink its communication strategy at a deeper level 🔄. The goal was not to erase the name of Cogne, but to dilute its symbolic weight by expanding the narrative from the single village to the broader territory of the Gran Paradiso National Park 🌄.
This led to a new positioning, “All the Colours of Gran Paradiso” 🌈, shifting attention to a wider, nature- and sport-oriented context. At the same time, the target audience evolved, moving away from the Italian family market 👨👩👧👦 — more exposed to national media pressure — towards outdoor enthusiasts 🧗🥾. Audiences less influenced by emotional crime narratives and more focused on the quality and uniqueness of the experience offered by the territory. The results were not immediate, but gradual and tangible: a rebalanced narrative ⚖️, a transition towards a calmer social and economic climate 🌤️, and clear evidence that reputational crises are not overcome by erasing problems, but by rebuilding the context in which they are perceived 🔧.
There is, finally, a deeper and often underestimated layer: memory 🧠. Tourist destinations cannot afford to treat tragedies as uncomfortable footnotes 📌. How a place remembers, confronts and processes its darkest moments becomes part of its identity ✨. Over time, credibility does not come from the absence of incidents — something no one can guarantee ❌ — but from the ability to prevent, manage and communicate honestly 💬, even when the story is painful 💔.
For Crans-Montana, as for any destination affected by similar events 🏔️, the challenge is not simply to attract visitors back 🎯. It is to rebuild a pact of trust 🤝 that binds safety, institutions and the local community together. A silent but essential pact, without which no destination — however beautiful 🌟 — can continue to be seen as a place for holidays 🏖️.
🐬 Elby’s Note – the silent conscience of ItalyNews.it | Interact with him
“Trust is the invisible currency of tourism 💸. One accident, one tragedy, and it can evaporate in an instant. Rebuilding it takes more than marketing — it takes honesty, empathy, and a narrative that connects residents, institutions and visitors 🤝. Crans-Montana, Gran Paradiso… the lesson is clear: safety isn’t just operational, it’s emotional.”