Every quarter our colleague Bridget Donofrio offers us, directly from the VDA Telkonet office in the United States, her personal point of view on the latest innovations in terms of technology, sustainability and energy saving to help hotel and non-hotel establishments remain competitive. 

Let’s read together her article for Bridget’s Suite July 2026. 

A few years ago I bought a brand new MINI Cooper S. Boy, did it have all the bells and whistles. It also had far more features than I knew how to use. The first week, I wasn’t even sure I was turning the car off. I was accustomed to the frictionless experience I had in my old car: hop in, buckle up, go. 

It made me think about something we don’t talk about enough in hospitality: friction. 

Most of us have stayed in a hotel room where everything was technically there…but somehow nothing quite worked the way we expected. 

The lights only turn off from one side of the bed. Grrr. 

The thermostat requires an engineering degree and three button presses just to lower the temperature two degrees. Not cool. (See what I did there?) 

And don’t even get me started on the blackout shades. They have two identical switches. One opens. One closes. Maybe. 

None of these things are major problems. They won’t earn an angry review on their own. But stack enough of these tiny inconveniences together, and a guest begins spending more time figuring out the room than enjoying it. 

That’s friction. 

Friction isn’t always dramatic. In fact, the most interesting kind is almost invisible. It’s every extra step, every moment of hesitation, every “Now, how do I…?” that interrupts what should feel effortless. 

Regular readers know I often write about how the hospitality industry has embraced technology over the past decade. Rooms can now control lighting, climate, entertainment, window coverings, and even service requests. That’s exciting. But technology, by itself, isn’t the destination. It’s simply another tool. 

I’m here to say that the real goal is ease. 

A well-designed guest room doesn’t make people think about the technology. It lets them think about getting a good night’s sleep, finishing tomorrow’s presentation, reading a book, or just relaxing after a long day of travel. 

In my own home, I don’t consciously admire the light switch every time I enter a room. I reach for it without thinking. That’s good design. It disappears. 

Hotels should aspire to the same feeling in their guest rooms. 

Every unnecessary decision asks something of the guest. Which switch controls this lamp? Why is the bathroom fan tied to the light? Why do I need instructions to watch television? Individually, these moments seem trivial. Collectively, they create cognitive load—small interruptions that chip away at comfort. 

Removing friction doesn’t necessarily require expensive renovations or adding the latest gadget. I learned that in my MINI experience. Sometimes it’s the opposite. Simplify the controls. Make common actions predictable. Let the room behave the way people naturally expect it to behave. 

Good hospitality has always been about anticipating needs before guests have to ask. 

Technology should do exactly the same thing. 

As hotels continue investing in connected rooms and smart devices, perhaps the best question isn’t, what else can this room do? Instead, ask, what can we make easier? 

When guests stop noticing the room and start enjoying their stay, you’ve done something right.  

Fortunately, I eventually figured out my MINI. Hotel guests, however, shouldn’t need a week to figure out their room technology.