The hospitality industry is deeply embedded in our culture and economy, yet it's a complex beast.

Having lived and worked in Oxford for 27 years, I have seen firsthand how a city can become both dependent on and overwhelmed by hospitality.

The South West, too, is no stranger to the effects of this industry, but what exactly do we mean by hospitality?

And why does it have such a profound impact on our daily lives?

I am reminded of the 1985 film National Lampoon's European Vacation, where the Griswold family, led by Chevy Chase, arrive unannounced at the home of an elderly German couple who, despite the language barrier, take them in.

The family leaves with fond farewells, while the couple, in subtitle form, ask "Who were those people?".

This scene makes us question what hospitality truly is and when we should extend it.

It requires a host, but what motivates the host?

In the hospitality industry, money is often the motivator.

This financial transaction creates a web of expectations and dependencies, hopes and disappointments, satisfaction and dissatisfaction.

But not all hospitality involves money.

We extend hospitality to family and friends, and recently, many opened their doors to Ukrainians fleeing the war.

This raises questions about our motivations or obligations for offering or refusing hospitality.

These questions extend to the stranger, the other, and the outsider.

Consider the Windrush Generation, citizens of the UK and Colonies given the right to reside and work in the UK under the 1948 British Nationality Act.

Despite government uncertainty about immigration, major employers like the NHS and British Rail were actively recruited from the Caribbean.

These migrants expected a warm welcome from the "mother country," yet faced hostility.

The legacy of this first encounter lingered, culminating in Teresa May's 2012 "hostile environment" policy as Home Secretary.

Many employers in the South West, especially in hospitality and agriculture, continue to recruit seasonal workers.

Moral issues abound here: the good, the bad, and the ugly.

Ethically, it raises the question of whether we should treat others as we would like to be treated.

These are age-old issues and dilemmas, particularly when borders are involved.

For many, EU membership fulfilled a utopian dream of open borders, but this hasn't always been straightforward.

The hospitality industry, in all its diversity, is a microcosm of these broader societal issues.

It reflects our cultural norms and economic dependencies, our moral obligations, and the impact of our choices on others.

It is a sector that cannot be ignored, for it is interwoven with our history, present, and future.

But as we continue to navigate its complexities, perhaps it is time to reconsider our understanding of hospitality beyond the industry.