Concern is no longer a premonition. It is reality.

The available indicators point to a slowdown in tourism demand for the Azores. The effects will not be uniform across the islands—neither in good times nor in bad are they ever so—but the signal is clear. And, in truth, it is not new. For some time, a number of voices had been warning about the structural volatility of this industry, warnings too often ignored when the numbers were rising and everything seemed to be sailing smoothly.

And no—it is not simply a matter of a low-cost airline abandoning the destination. That factor carries weight, naturally, but it falls far short of explaining, on its own, what is happening. There are deeper variables at play that help us understand this deceleration.

The international context has deteriorated. Geopolitical instability—particularly in the Middle East—has direct and indirect effects on global economies. First and foremost, through rising energy prices. And with that comes a predictable chain of consequences: increased cost of living, inflationary pressure, and a reversal of the recent trend of declining interest rates.

In such a scenario, consumers pull back. They postpone. They become selective. They cut what is not essential. And in that movement, tourism—especially in peripheral, high-cost destinations—is among the first sectors to feel the impact. The Azores are no exception to this logic.

Still, it must be said clearly: this is not merely a crisis arriving from the outside. It is also the result of a model that has always been fragile from within.

Stakeholders across the sector—tour operators, car rentals, restaurants, hotels, and local accommodations—have come forward expressing concern and demanding responses. Yet, for the most part, they frame the problem around air accessibility and the absence of low-cost flights.

At best, that reading is incomplete.

The prices charged at the destination have long been a source of complaint among visitors. In many cases, they are not matched by levels of service that would justify them. The high cost of the Azores experience cannot be attributed solely to airfare. There is an internal responsibility that can no longer be ignored.

As for the departure of the low-cost carrier, it is important not to romanticize it. This is part of the business model. These companies do not primarily profit from ticket sales, but from the financial and operational incentives they are able to negotiate with destinations. When they find better conditions elsewhere, they move. That is the market in its purest form. (Some applaud it.)

Mr. Michael O’Leary most likely found a more attractive offer elsewhere—and left.

With that departure came some curious reactions. On social media, emotional expressions of gratitude for the “service provided” multiplied, perhaps overlooking the fact that such service was largely supported by public funds—whether taxpayers flew with that airline or not.

Others went further, urging governments to meet the company’s demands, as though the public interest should submit, without reservation, to the negotiating logic of a private enterprise.

Here, a paradox emerges that deserves reflection.

Many of those who comfortably defend public funding for private airlines are the same who instinctively reject funding a public airline, even advocating for its privatization. They perhaps forget that there are routes, services, and missions that only a regional carrier with a public mandate can ensure—whether in transporting patients, maintaining inter-island connections, or responding in times of emergency.

At its core, perhaps this is the question we avoid confronting: we want a competitive destination, but we refuse to debate the model that sustains it.

We want cheap flights, but we do not want to pay their true cost.

We want tourists, but we are not always willing to rethink how we receive them.

Tourism, like the sea that surrounds the islands, has never been a place of permanence—it is flow, it is tide, it is instability. And yet we insist on treating it as solid ground.

Perhaps this slowdown is not merely a sign of crisis, but a warning. One of those quiet warnings that arrive before deeper ruptures.

Because, in the end, what should truly concern us is not the departure of an airline. It is the fragility of what remains when it leaves—as, sooner or later, it inevitably would.

Aníbal Pires is a retired educator, political activist, poet, and contributing writer for several Azorean newspapers and media outlets. He lives on the island of São Miguel. The pictures in the article are also by Aníbal Pires.

NOVIDADES will feature occasional opinion pieces from various leading thinkers and writers from the Azores to give the diaspora and those interested in the current Azores a sense of the significant opinions on some of the archipelago’s issues.

Translated to English as a community outreach program from the Portuguese Beyond Borders Institute (PBBI) and the Modern and Classical Languages and Literatures Department (MCLL).