Airbnb began in 2008 when three friends rented out air mattresses in their apartment to make extra money during a busy conference weekend. But they weren’t the first. Vrbo (originally Vacation Rentals by Owner) was founded in 1995 by David Clouse as a website where homeowners could list their vacation properties for rent directly to travellers. Vrbo later became part of HomeAway (founded in 2005), which was eventually acquired by Expedia Group in 2015.
Over the last 20 years, short-term rentals (STRs) have wrestled a 15% market share from hotels, taking the concept from a pioneering sharing economy to a $100bn beast – which now stands accused of inflating rents for residents and hollowing out communities.
In her article Community Consequences of Airbnb, published in the Washington Law Review in 2020, Professor Allyson E. Gold examined the multifaceted impact of STR platforms on local communities.
Gold, who entered the legal profession after working to help low-income tenants overcome barriers to housing stability in Washington, acknowledged that while such rentals can provide significant financial benefits to hosts, offer more affordable and diverse lodging options for guests and potentially boost local economies, the negative effects on local housing markets and communities are pervasive.
This, she argues, is because properties that might otherwise serve as long-term rentals are increasingly converted into short-term accommodations. This inevitably means fewer residential properties to rent.
Gold adds that this shift correlates with rising average rents, worsening the affordability crisis facing local people. Meanwhile, the influx of transient guests can “erode neighbourhood social capital, weaken community bonds and alter the character of residential areas” – as well as contribute to displacement, particularly in historically marginalised neighbourhoods.
Recently, cities have begun implementing strict regulations to curb the negative effects of STRs. In Europe, Barcelona has banned new Airbnb licenses, while Berlin restricts entire-home rentals and imposes heavy fines. Paris caps rentals at 120 nights per year, and London limits them to 90 nights unless a permit is obtained.
The story is similar in the Americas. New York City, for example, requires hosts to register and bans rentals under 30 days unless the host is present, while San Francisco limits rentals to 90 days per year without a live-in host. Buenos Aires has introduced mandatory registration and higher taxes; Rio de Janeiro and Santiago allow buildings to ban Airbnb and impose rental limits, and Medellín requires short-term rentals to be approved by apartment buildings.
Related: How are co-ops promoting travel as a force for good?
Cape Town has enforced Airbnb registration and tourism taxes, Marrakech limits short-term rentals in certain areas, and Lagos is planning new caps and hospitality taxes. There are also zoning restrictions in Tokyo, with some districts completely banning short-term rentals or allowing it only on weekends.
Co-operatives have been used to combat the negative effects of short-term rentals globally, by preserving affordable housing, promoting collective ownership, and working with policymakers to push for stronger regulations on short-term rentals. Co-ops also look to provide alternatives, from member-led vacations and mutually owned holiday businesses to co-op alternatives to STR platforms like Airbnb and Vrbo. But it’s not easy.
Fairbnb.coop was founded in 2016 by a group of European activists, developers and researchers in response to the negative social and economic impacts of STRs, aiming instead to promote sustainable and community-centred tourism. As a multi-stakeholder co-op, its members included individuals and organisations aligned with its mission to “redefine tourism”. Fairbnb ensured that at least 50% of its commission went to community projects in the host area and prioritised transparency, fair governance, and compliance with local housing regulations.
However, like most hospitality and travel businesses, Fairbnb struggled through the 2020 pandemic when movement was restricted and consumer confidence low – and the last couple of years have been particularly hard.
At the start of 2024 the co-op encountered a significant funding complication, which started a domino effect leading to eventual voluntary liquidation. But its story doesn’t end there. “We have worked tirelessly to find a sustainable path forward,” Fairbnb wrote in a letter to members. “The solution we found was crafted internally, by those who believe in the values we built together.”
This solution involves another co-operative, Turkish-based NeedsMap (İhtiyaç Haritası), a peer-to-peer solidarity platform that uses geolocated data to match resources with community needs.
“We managed to find an agreement in which [NeedsMap] are buying the brand, the business, the idea of Fairbnb and are bringing it under their organisation,” said Emanuele Dal Carlo, co-founder and former president of Fairbnb.coop
“In Italy we have a saying: don’t throw the baby out with the bathwater. We managed to save the baby. Our co-operative may have gone, but the Fairbnb co-op project is alive and is under a co-operative wing.”
The Fairbnb.coop website is still taking bookings, and the new team is clearing a backlog of host enquiries.
“Every company can fail, but usually 99% of the time, that’s the end,” says Dal Carlo. “But because we are in such a forward thinking and solidarity-based network, people were very active in trying to find a solution. Everybody walked the extra mile to maintain continuity and keep the project alive. These things don’t usually happen in normal companies. And I think this is a good message for the co-operative movement in general.”
But, he adds, one area where solidarity failed was between co-operative organisations. Fairbnb found it hard to encourage the cross-selling of services between different co-op businesses – which could have benefited everyone. “I don’t think there is enough education in co-ops about the sixth principle of co-operation between co-operatives.”
What has worked, however, is co-operation among and with communities. The Fairbnb project was initially driven by the vision of a tourism model that serves local people, and that, Dal Carlo believes is needed now more than ever, particularly in light of anti-tourist sentiments emerging in cities such as Barcelona and Seville. Here a recent spate of stickers and graffiti art outside Airbnb apartments from heartsore residents aim to highlight the impact of over-tourism on communities.
“I think we’ve been quite successful in coming across with a strong, positive message that tourism can be done better,” Dal Carlo says. “Tourism is not a bad word and being a tourist is not a bad thing. I think actually that tourism can be one of the best things in the world, because it creates contact between different ethnicities, languages and cultures. So it’s actually a vessel for peace and understanding – but not if it’s done wrong.”
Fairbnb’s goal now is to “learn from our experience and our failures and enable the model to transcend just tourism,” he adds. “We are open to talk with anyone who thinks that this model can be adapted to their community.”
