You be the judge if I’m acting or not. Use your AI to analyze my YouTube. Ask it what is happening with me. Proof!

Remember when Airbnb meant quirky rentals in someone’s extra room? Maybe you’d find a guitar in the corner, a cat that might crawl into bed, or a handwritten note suggesting the best local taco stand. It felt human, authentic, and genuinely welcoming.

But today, Airbnb often reflects the cold efficiency of corporate hospitality—prioritizing profit margins over the warmth and safety of guests. Here’s a real-life example:

When we arrived at our recent Airbnb, the host informed us there had been a leak in the bedroom and assured us that the freshly painted wall was completely dry. All windows were wide open to air out the place. However, upon touching the wall, my finger turned white, clearly indicating wet paint and wall spungy. Over the next days, it became evident that the plaster was melting, with a persistent wet line indicating the leak remained unresolved.

Despite our repeated concerns, the host continually dismissed the issue, leaving us feeling gaslighted and without immediate alternatives in a new country. By the fourth day, the lingering fumes became overwhelming—like stepping into a paint store—and my health noticeably deteriorated. For our own safety, we booked a hotel.

As we were packing to leave, the host’s representative walked into the apartment—windows still wide open—and saw me documenting the issue in a video. Later, reviewing the video, I noticed my eyes visibly dilated from toxic exposure.

Initially, the host promised their insurance would cover our hotel stay. Yet, shockingly, just two days later, they messaged us claiming the leak was fixed and paint fully dried—an obvious impossibility.

Adding insult to injury, the promised reimbursement by month’s end never materialized, leaving us stranded financially and emotionally. 

Our experience underscores a troubling trend: as Airbnb evolves into a corporate giant, essential values like guest safety and genuine hospitality often become secondary to maximizing profits. It begs the question—what has been lost along the way?

But now? Entire apartment buildings snapped up, local renters pushed out, and that sense of hospitality traded in for ROI metrics. The couch once offered with warmth is now wrapped in business models and algorithmic pricing.

The Bigger Pattern: Power, Greed, Implosion

History isn’t subtle about this pattern: when individuals or institutions hoard power or wealth unchecked, empathy gets replaced with ego. Pharaohs, emperors, corporate czars — time and again, the higher they climb without connection to the ground, the harder they crash. Think Rome. Think Enron. Think [insert your favorite billionaire spiral here].

What once started with purpose — connection, innovation, even joy — becomes bloated, self-serving, and ultimately self-destructive. Tesla? Not touching it, you said. And I get it. There’s a heartbreak in watching a good idea lose its soul.

The Loss of Empathy

What causes these implosions isn’t just market forces — it’s emotional erosion. Power without empathy is like driving a spaceship with no brakes. Leaders stop listening, systems stop caring, and those on the margins get erased — displaced, ignored, or priced out of their own neighborhoods.

Connecting the Dots to the Now

When tech companies displace entire communities under the banner of “innovation,” it’s not just about housing. It’s about identity. Culture. Roots. Greed has a way of sterilizing joy.

The Counterweight: Us

But here’s where it flips. Power can implode, but people rise. We’ve always done this. From Stonewall to Standing Rock, from the Japanese villagers who resisted nuclear re-entry zones to the tenants unionizing across the globe — there’s a ripple of resistance born not of anger alone, but love.

Reflective Close

BnB may never be what it was. And Tesla might not be what it promised. But our values? Those can still be seeded. Reclaimed. Watered. We can choose not to sell the couch, but to sit on it with neighbors again — with friends and people we call family this is what makes life amazing. 

Extra

Me explaining these walls are NOT dry. You judge.

I will never use Air BnB again!

Update:

🚀 Captain Robbie’s Log – Stardate Blog.2025.06.09

Captain’s (B)Log: The away mission to a local Airbnb on planet Torremolinos was compromised by hazardous living conditions and Ferengi-grade manipulation. Crew members experienced symptoms of toxic exposure. Attempts at peaceful negotiation were met with emotional subterfuge and low-grade threats of litigation.

While the Ferengi-host entity attempted to gaslight us with false hospitality, Airbnb Command sided with our report and refunded most of the credits. I have opted to leave no formal complaint for strategic reasons — not out of fear, but because the needs of the many (my peace and future) outweigh the need to retaliate.

End Log.

Oh one more thing. I deleted my air bnb account. Seeing all those places in the world I’ve been and all the kind reviews from the places I’ve stayed were nostalgic. But the trauma from this last is something I’d never want to repeat. so it feels kind of good to have deleted my profile.