The Sámi, the Indigenous people of northern Europe, have a complicated relationship with tourism. Growing numbers of visitors to their homeland, Sápmi (which stretches across Norway, Sweden, Finland, and Russia, and includes popular destinations like Lapland) bring economic potential, but often the Sámi themselves only feel tourism’s negative impact.
There's the issue of land use and the way that it affects local culture, says Kaisu Nikula, a longtime Sámi tourism entrepreneur. But also, Sámi communities are concerned about non-Indigenous travel operators who promote stereotypes and misrepresent their culture. Particularly in Finland, says Nikula, there are non-Sámi tourism workers who wear fake Sámi costumes and mislead tourists into assuming they are Indigenous. “They maybe don't say [that they are Sámi],” says Monika Lüthje from the University of Lapland. "They just wear that dress and you assume that they are Sámi.
Travelers are catching on, largely thanks to guidelines such as the Sámi Parliament of Finland’s Responsible Visitors’ Guidance to Sámi Culture and the Sámi Homeland in Finland, published in 2022, which encourages respectful tourist behavior, such as asking for permission before photographing locals and avoiding getting too close to reindeer. The bad news, however, is that increased awareness of tourism’s exploitation of the Sámi has scared some visitors away from Sápmi. “Now that attention has been paid to the negative effects of tourism, more conscious travelers start thinking, Okay, maybe I shouldn't go there at all,” says Lüthje.
This issue, of course, isn't only happening in Sápmi. Across the globe, tourists have long been left on their own to determine the authenticity of experiences promoted as ‘Indigenous.’ Faced with a mishmash of terms, it can be difficult to recognize what, exactly, that product is—and which companies are actually Indigenous-owned or -operated. Where national-level, Indigenous-specific quality certifications exist, such as Australia’s Respecting Our Cultures program, they have largely been aimed at regulating non-Indigenous tourism operators. But a new approach is emerging, which, instead of policing bad actors, aims to celebrate Indigenous entrepreneurs offering genuine cultural experiences.
At the University of Lapland, in collaboration with the Sámi Parliament of Finland, Nikula and Lüthje are working on the development of a label that would recognize Sámi-led tourism businesses in Finland (they later hope to extend it to the other countries within Sápmi).
Such a label existed in Sweden around a decade ago. Now discontinued due to lack of funding, the “Sápmi Experience” label identified tourism companies offering genuine, ethical, and sustainable Sámi experiences. Nature’s Best, Sweden’s mark for sustainable nature-based experiences, later built on Sápmi Experience’s criteria to create a label within its program specifically for Sámi-owned tourism companies. But it was to Canada that Nikula and Lühtje looked for guidance for their own set of criteria. “The second obvious [source of inspiration] was the Original Original program in Canada,” says Nikula. “That’s really the only [Indigenous tourism label] that is functioning at the moment and meant for companies that are owned and run by Indigenous people.”
The Original Original label was launched by the Indigenous Tourism Association of Canada (ITAC) in 2021 to help travelers identify Indigenous-led tourism experiences throughout Canada. The seal identifies products, from wildlife-watching tours to wineries and hotels, that meet a set of criteria that includes being at least 51 percent Indigenous-owned and a business that embraces the values of Indigenous tourism.
In the years before the mark was launched, Indigenous tourism had been growing rapidly in Canada, increasing by 23.2 percent between 2014 and 2017, according to ITAC. But, says Tara Saunders, ITAC’s director of business development, that demand created “room for people to try to capitalize on it and say, 'Well, I'm going to add a totem pole on my golf course, or present myself as Indigenous.'” The Original Original mark, she says, stops that from happening by assuring visitors that a company has “been vetted and [provides] a true Indigenous perspective.”
Unlike in Sápmi, ITAC found no adequate pre-existing certification system to draw upon. “We found that nothing else exists at the national level of this caliber,” says Saunders. Now Saunders believes ITAC’s work can help provide a model for Indigenous tourism entrepreneurs worldwide. “I think that the core of the program offers room for an operator to tell their own story within [its] standards, so it can be adapted very easily to other countries because it doesn't say, okay, these are the elements of what's authentic and Indigenous. It gives you room to tell your [own] authentic Indigenous story.”
ITAC is currently in discussion with Indigenous tourism leaders worldwide to implement a form of the Original Original, based on ITAC’s guidelines, in their own countries. Jean-Philip Le Moigne, ITAC’s Chile-based international consultant, says that the brand “has the potential to become international and change the tourism industry.” In Chile, the National Indigenous Tourism Association (ANTI) launched the Sello de Turismo Indígena (Indigenous Tourism Stamp) in December, born from a project led by researchers from the Pontificia Universidad Católica de Chile. The project is still in its early days and has not yet certified any Indigenous tourism businesses in Chile and, says Le Moigne, currently “just evaluates the authenticity and not the market readiness” of tourism experiences. The Original Original remains the benchmark because it “goes much further,” he adds, and “takes into account market-readiness linked to authenticity and quality.”
In Canada, Indigenous tourism is rebuilding post-coronavirus, but still economically outpaced by New Zealand, says Saunders. Nevertheless, ITAC has set out a vision to become the world leader in Indigenous tourism (in direct contributions to GDP) by 2030. The label will help them get there, Saunders says by “identifying market-ready gaps and [allowing ITAC] to work with businesses to grow their market-readiness.”
That growth will require significant investment, some of which has been recently affirmed by the federal government and linked to Canada’s ongoing process of reconciliation with Indigenous people.
Back in Finland, Nikula and Lüthje are readying to present their proposal to the Sámi Parliament this fall. As the Government of Finland advances through its own Truth and Reconciliation process, the researchers hope for more state support for Indigenous entrepreneurs.
“Finns have exploited Sámi culture in [their] tourism businesses,” says Lüthje, “so it would be only fair to give back and support Sámi so that they themselves can profit from the culture.”