So let me get this straight. Marriott and Hilton have collectively promised their members $7 billion worth of future hotel stays, and the official line from both companies is that this is good news. That these billions in IOUs represent "engagement" and "future demand." And look, they're not entirely wrong... loyalty programs do drive occupancy, they do reduce acquisition costs, and they do keep guests coming back. I've spent 15 years on the brand side watching these programs evolve from nice-to-have perks into the central nervous system of franchise strategy. But there's a version of this story that never makes it into the earnings call, and it's the one being lived by the owner whose loyalty program fees just outpaced their total revenue growth for the third year running.

Here are the numbers that matter. Loyalty program fees grew 4.4% in 2024 while total revenue grew 2.7%. The cost per occupied room hit $5.46, which sounds modest until you multiply it across your key count and realize it's climbing faster than your ADR. Marriott's co-branded credit card fees alone rose over 8% to $716 million in 2025. And here's the part that should make every owner reach for a calculator: the gap between points earned and points redeemed at Marriott widened by $473 million in a single year. That's nearly half a billion dollars in NEW promises stacked on top of the old ones. The loyalty machine is printing IOUs faster than guests are cashing them in, and the brands are calling that success because more members means more credit card revenue, more direct bookings, and more leverage in the next franchise agreement. They're not wrong about the math. But whose math are we talking about?

I grew up watching my dad deliver on brand promises at properties where the margin didn't leave room for generosity. And I spent enough years in franchise development to know exactly how this game works. The brand sells the loyalty program as "occupancy insurance" (and it is... loyalty members now account for over 50% of occupied rooms). But insurance has a premium, and that premium keeps going up, and the owner doesn't get to renegotiate the policy. Marriott Bonvoy added 43 million new members in 2025 alone, bringing the total to 271 million. Hilton Honors is at nearly 250 million. That's over half a billion loyalty members between two companies, and every single one of them earned points that somebody... eventually... has to honor. The brand books the credit card revenue today. The owner absorbs the cost of the redemption stay tomorrow. That's not a partnership. That's a payment schedule where one party sets the terms and the other covers the tab.

What really gets me is the "strength, not weakness" framing. I've sat in enough brand presentations to recognize the move. You take a liability... an actual, GAAP-defined, auditor-verified liability that sits on the balance sheet as a future obligation... and you rebrand it as proof of customer love. And sure, not every point gets redeemed (that's the breakage assumption baked into the accounting). But the trend line is going the wrong direction for anyone hoping breakage saves them. These programs are getting bigger, the points are accumulating faster than they're being used, and the brands keep expanding earn opportunities through partnerships with Uber, Starbucks, and every credit card issuer that will take their call. Every new earning partner means more points in circulation. More points in circulation means more liability. More liability means either more redemption stays (which cost the owner the marginal cost of that room) or eventual devaluation (which makes the loyalty promise worth less, which defeats the entire purpose). You can see the squeeze coming from three years out if you bother to look.

The question nobody at headquarters wants to answer is this: at what point does the loyalty program cost more than the revenue premium it delivers to an individual property? Because that number is different for a 400-key convention hotel in Nashville than it is for a 120-key select-service in Wichita. The Nashville property probably still comes out ahead. The Wichita property? I'd want to see the math. And not the portfolio-level math that makes the brand's investor presentation look good. The property-level math that determines whether the owner made money this year. Those are two very different spreadsheets, and the brand only ever shows you one of them.