Los Angeles is at a boiling point, not from the sunshine, but from a fiery debate threatening to reshape its tourism industry. A new proposal aims to gradually raise the minimum wage for hotel and airport workers to $30 per hour by 2028. As the city readies itself for global spotlight events like the Olympics, some see the wage hike as justice long overdue. Others warn it could torch the fragile recovery of one of L.A.’s biggest economic engines.
On April 29, a coalition of tourism and business stakeholders filled Los Angeles City Hall, voicing strong opposition to what’s being called the “Olympic Wage Ordinance.” If passed, the policy would lift the minimum wage for covered tourism workers to $22.50 by July this year, followed by steady annual increases to reach the $30 mark in time for the 2028 Olympics.
Supporters of the policy argue that the wage increase is a matter of survival, not luxury. For many workers in Los Angeles’ expensive housing market, a $30 hourly wage isn’t a raise, it’s rent. Advocates say the measure would ensure that the city’s blue-collar workforce can continue to live in the city they serve, preventing displacement and poverty while injecting more spending power into local neighborhoods.
But not everyone is cheering.
For hoteliers, restaurateurs, and travel business owners, the wage hike feels more like a punch in the gut than a helping hand. Many say they’re still recovering from a brutal three-year downturn caused by the pandemic and natural disasters, and this ordinance could crush them just as bookings are starting to rise again. Industry voices say the proposed hike could lead to a 69% increase in operating costs within just two months, costs that would likely be passed down to consumers or absorbed through staff cuts and service reductions.


The tension reveals a deeper conflict: how to fairly compensate workers in a city known for its glamor, while also keeping tourism, which generates billions for the local economy, competitive and alive. With other major U.S. cities already pulling ahead in post-pandemic recovery, L.A. is struggling to catch up. Industry analytics show that while revenue per room in L.A. is slightly above 2019 levels, many other cities have already surged far ahead. In fact, L.A. ranks near the bottom among the top 25 hotel markets in the U.S.
The situation isn’t just about numbers. Behind the figures are stories of hotel staffers juggling multiple jobs, airport workers commuting hours to reach affordable housing, and international tourists choosing other destinations due to rising prices. In January, wildfires severely impacted travel across Southern California, compounding problems that started during the pandemic. The back-to-back crises left L.A. tourism battered and bruised.
From the labor side, this is being framed as a moment of reckoning. Labor leaders claim the new wage law would lift thousands of workers out of near-poverty, especially in a city where even modest apartments can command astronomical rents. They also argue that improving wages boosts morale, productivity, and long-term retention, saving the industry money over time and improving guest experiences.
However, the business community is warning of dire ripple effects. Construction on new hotel developments could slow or stall. Existing hotels may slash amenities or reduce headcount. And as one insider noted, even major contracts for housing international guests during the Olympics could be pulled if costs spiral too far out of control.
L.A. is at an inflection point. Between now and May 6, when the ordinance goes before the city’s Economic Development and Jobs Committee, decision-makers will weigh impassioned arguments from both sides. If the measure clears that hurdle, it moves to the full council for a vote that could permanently change how the city treats its tourism workforce.
Zooming out, the conversation mirrors a national trend. Across the U.S., cities are grappling with how to set fair wages in sectors like hospitality and food service, industries that were essential during the pandemic but are often among the lowest paid. For a city as high-profile as Los Angeles, what happens here could set a precedent for similar efforts in places like Miami, Chicago, and Las Vegas.
To be clear, no one’s denying the value of workers. There’s universal agreement that tourism doesn’t run without them. The disagreement is over how quickly, and how far, the pendulum should swing.
While worker advocates call the measure overdue, critics ask: What’s the cost of fairness when an entire ecosystem is at stake? Can Los Angeles maintain its status as a global destination if labor costs skyrocket? Will visitors choose L.A. over other cities if room prices jump 20%? Will developers pause or pivot away?
And then there’s the timing. With the Olympics, World Cup, and other global events on the horizon, Los Angeles has a rare window to rejuvenate its international reputation. Advocates say this is exactly why workers need to be compensated fairly, to be ready, willing, and proud to host the world. Detractors argue that any misstep now could sabotage the very events that are supposed to revive the economy.
Even the skies aren’t helping. Passenger traffic at LAX remains 30% below 2019 levels, and the airport recently fell out of the global top 10 busiest hubs, a status it had maintained for over a decade. If international travel continues to slump and Canadian and Mexican tourism stays down, the city’s rooms may remain half-empty regardless of how much workers are paid to clean them.
At this juncture, every decision carries outsized consequences. If the $30 wage becomes law, it could lead to historic reforms, or unintended fallout. Either way, Los Angeles is writing a new chapter in the ever-evolving relationship between business and labor.
The world will be watching.
Level Up Insight:
Wage debates like L.A.’s don’t just shape paychecks, they shape cities. With the Olympics on the horizon and tourism still healing, Los Angeles is setting the stage not just for an international spectacle, but for a national labor reckoning. The challenge ahead? Balancing compassion with competitiveness in a city where both matter deeply.