Empty Beaches in the Southwest: What the Numbers Say — and What They Conceal

Empty Beaches in the Southwest: What the Numbers Say — and What They Conceal

Why Son Matias, Magaluf and others were not even half full — and why that should not reassure anyone

The raw data are clear: in summer 2025 no beach in the municipality of Calvià reached an occupancy rate of more than 50 percent. Son Matias came closest at just under 50 percent. Other beaches such as Santa Ponça or Magaluf were far below that. At first glance this looks like relaxation. The central question remains: is the island and its residents actually relaxing — or is a sector that depends heavily on full summer weeks weakening?

The figures produced by the monitoring are concrete: Magaluf registered a peak of 910 people on July 30, against an assumed capacity of 3,300. Na Nadala reached 837 visitors on its busiest day. The beaches were open from mid-March to the end of November, and there were technical adjustments — the bathing area in the water was extended to 200 meters, motor activities were largely banned, and measures for barrier-free access and saltwater foot showers were introduced.

All of this is part of a larger project called "Destino Turístico Inteligente". The budget: around four million euros. About 60 percent comes from European funds, the rest from municipal sources. The aim of the technology: to monitor flows of people and vehicles, measure water quality and temperature, and detect visitor behavior. All this, the municipality says, should help steer tourism better.

Those who ask critical questions here encounter several gaps. First: how are capacities defined? An area plus a mathematical density can be calculated quickly, but changing beach uses — private towels, temporary chiringuitos, play areas for children — make a blanket capacity figure questionable. Second: what survey methods lie behind the numbers? Cameras, sensors, manual counts? That has consequences for data protection, accuracy and trust in the data.

Third: public debates often revolve around occupancy percentages — but only rarely about the effects on people on the ground. The municipality also reports 30 percent fewer police reports and almost 20 percent more hotels open year-round. Both facts are important, but they do not tell a complete social story: what effect does lower beach attendance have on seasonal workers, beach vendors, small cafés along the Passeig Marítim or taxi drivers? Which businesses benefit from the quieter picture, which lose revenue?

A small everyday scene: on a windless morning in Palmanova only the sound of the sea passes by. The parasols stand like decommissioned mushrooms, occasionally a cleaning cart rattles along the beach. A pensioner with a dog walks the promenade and wonders aloud whether this is good for the place. Next to him a hotel employee bends over her tablet, checking reservations for the coming weeks. This mix of relief and uncertainty reflects the situation better than any percentage figure.

What is missing from the public discourse right now is an honest weighing of quality against quantitative occupancy. More space for bathers can be ecologically sensible and more pleasant for guests. At the same time the island economy relies on a certain number of paying visitors. Technology does not replace a political decision about how much mass tourism one wants and how much quieter, longer-staying visits.

Concrete proposals that could help immediately: first, open data: publish raw data and methodology so researchers and citizens can understand how counts are produced. Second, seasonal coordination: municipal subsidies or grants for businesses in weaker months, tied to employment agreements to support seasonal workers. Third, transport measures: better shuttle connections outside peak times so visitors arrive more evenly distributed. Fourth, adaptive beach planning: instead of rigid capacity numbers, designate short-term usable areas (play zones, sports areas, quiet areas) that can be repurposed as needed. Fifth, citizen participation: set up local bodies where hoteliers, residents, environmentalists and beach vendors negotiate rules together.

The balance remains pointed: empty beaches are not an end in themselves. They can be a blessing — if the island's sources of income do not collapse and the social situation of workers is secured. They can be alarming — if they are the first sign of structural change without a social plan. Calvià's project delivers data, which is progress. What is now missing is transparency about the method and a concrete plan for how the findings can be turned into fair, local policy.

On the Passeig, when the wind comes from the west and the seagulls cry sharply, the result sounds less like statistics and more like everyday life: an island trying to be less loud without leaving behind the people who live and work here.