Tourism is not the solution to Scotland's rural depopulation - but here are some answers

Across the Highlands, islands, and small towns, younger and more educated people are leaving for larger urban centres. In their wake, communities are left with labour shortages, an ageing population, and mounting pressure on health and social care services.

Agriculture, healthcare, social services and even tourism - often seen as a panacea - struggle to fill vital roles.

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The result is not just economic stagnation, but also the weakening of community life itself. What is often overlooked is that depopulation erodes more than numbers - it erodes a shared everyday and a sense of place. Without these, no policy, subsidy or tourism campaign will be enough to keep communities alive.

More than jobs and numbers

Much of the conversation focuses on measurable losses: skills, investment and services. These matter. But when people leave, something less tangible yet just as important is lost - the daily rhythms, relationships and local knowledge that bind communities together.

Empty houses, abandoned halls and neglected infrastructure are not only practical challenges, but also stark reminders of decline. They chip away at belonging. A community is more than its population count; it is a living fabric of memories, routines and attachments.

As philosopher Edward Casey put it: “Place is as requisite as the air we breathe.” When people cannot connect meaningfully to their surroundings, they drift away.

Why the everyday matters

Policymakers are comfortable discussing housing, transport or grants. But they rarely consider “the everyday”, the small, ordinary interactions that sustain community life. The bus ride to school, the Saturday football pitch, the gossip at the shop counter, these moments create social continuity and resilience. When they disappear, the damage is profound.

French writer Georges Perec asked why society obsesses over “the big event” while ignoring “the infra-ordinary”, the unnoticed, everyday things that give life its texture. In rural Scotland, infra-ordinary places like the pier, the pub, the post office or the village hall carry immense cultural weight. When they close, their absence is felt more deeply than any policy document acknowledges.

The everyday may be elusive, but it is what makes a place worth staying in. Lose it and no amount of short-term economic incentive will hold people.

Tourism Is not the only answer

Too often, depopulation is met with calls to boost tourism. Tourism certainly matters - it brings jobs, visitors and income, but it cannot be the sole solution. Communities cannot survive as backdrops for seasonal visitors. They need year-round livelihoods, schools that stay open and services that people can rely on.

Tourism can support rural life, but it cannot substitute for the everyday fabric of belonging, care and shared memory. To put it bluntly, visitors cannot replace neighbours.

What needs to change

If Scotland is serious about reversing depopulation, we need to start with place. Revitalising abandoned buildings, restoring community hubs and creating conditions for social ownership of everyday spaces should be as central to policy as jobs or housing.

This is not romantic nostalgia, it is practical. Communities that feel ownership of their place are more resilient, more attractive to younger residents and better able to adapt. When people see meaning in where they live, they are more likely to stay, return or invest.

The bigger picture

Depopulation is often framed in economic terms, but it is also a question of imagination. Do we want Scotland’s rural areas to be hollow landscapes, remembered only in photographs and tourist brochures? Or can we imagine them as vibrant, interconnected places where people build futures as well as remember pasts?

The answer lies in the everyday. By protecting and reinvigorating the ordinary places and routines that give life its texture, Scotland can sustain its rural communities, not just economically, but socially and culturally, for generations to come.

- Frazer Macdonald Hay is a writer and practitioner, who works internationally on the intersections of architecture, memory, and violence, with experience in Iraq, Ukraine, Mexico and Indonesia. He holds a Master’s degree in Peace and Conflict Studies from the University of St Andrews.