José Alba didn't need to get up from his armchair, jacket buttoned up, to shake the foundations of the tourism sector this Thursday in Las Palmas. The CEO of Lopesan Hotel Group harshly criticized what he considers a social illusion: the idea that vacation rentals in the Canary Islands are a business run by "humble families." According to Alba, behind this facade of domestic economy lie corporate structures adept at using "straw men," pieces on a chessboard designed to pressure the government while, in practice, operating as veritable large-scale commercial machines.
"There are business owners exploiting a legal loophole to engage in unfair competition," he said. This accusation represents a step forward in the cold war being waged between hotel giants and alternative accommodation providers. According to the executive, these "instrumental entities" have managed to hijack the political narrative, using the image of the small business owner as a shield to protect interests that have little to do with family ties and much to do with lobbying pressure.
Alba attacked the holiday industry for causing "reputational damage" to the destination, arguing that the benefits of tourism are not being shared. She failed to mention that the economic system of the Spanish Constitution defines the State in terms of Subordination to the General Interest (Article 128), which states: "All the wealth of the country is subject to the general interest, allowing the State to intervene in companies and reserve essential resources or services by law," as well as Article 131: "The State may plan economic activity to meet collective needs, balance regional/sectoral development, and stimulate growth."
Alba's intervention provided a headline for economic reflection: the comparison between the Dominican Republic's agility and the stagnation of the Canary Islands. The example was devastating. While the Costa Bávaro complex—a colossal development with its own industry and urbanization—went from the drawing board to reality in just eighteen months, in Gran Canaria, time seems to have stood still.
In San Bartolomé de Tirajana, the project for plot 28, located behind the Baobab Hotel, has been languishing since 2009. Seventeen years of waiting for an urban plot that should already be providing direct employment for 1.500 families. "It has had to be modified three times because, after so much waiting, the project is no longer even cutting-edge," lamented Alba, pointing to the scar that administrative inaction leaves on local employment.
Alba struck a direct blow at the heart of the European system, asserting that the "excessive legal certainty" has ultimately mutated into its opposite: utter insecurity for those who risk their capital. This is the Canary Islands paradox: an investor prefers to gamble on theoretically more unstable systems rather than get caught in a tangled web of red tape that, under the guise of legal guarantees, condemns projects to eternal oblivion.
“People prefer the risk of the Caribbean to the paralysis of the Canary Islands because here you know when you start, but never when you finish,” he said, using the informal “tú” form. Despite the cautionary tone, the Lopesan executive concluded with a message of confidence in the destination’s “resilience.” Hoping to double its capacity in the archipelago over the next five years, Alba advocated for smart diversification: it’s not about forcing companies to invest in unprofitable sectors, but about strengthening what the islands excel at. Tourism, he asserted, is not the problem, but rather the most powerful sustainability tool the Canary Islands possess, provided it is allowed to operate freely, unburdened by bureaucracy.
