Guilt makes awkward baggage for the holidaymaker. From self-reproach about the impact on the planet of a flight to the sunshine, to the twinge of remorse about supporting human rights abuses by visiting China, many of us would prefer to leave our consciences at home. But in a part of the world that has fallen victim to a humanitarian disaster, should the very notion of tourism be abhorrent?
One in five respondents to an online poll conducted yesterday by CruiseCritic appears to think so. They described the return to Haiti's Labadee Beach of cruise ships as "in poor taste".
Now, from an ethical perspective you can criticise cruise lines for reducing tourism to a caricature. A vessel the size of a housing estate drifts around the Caribbean, her kitchens serving up absurd quantities of food in a region where many go hungry. She destabilises communities by delivering thousands of visitors at the start of the day then scooping them up before dark, before embarking on the next futile arc in the never-ending circle of indulgence.
You could also question the benefits to passengers of making scant and superficial visits to islands that deserve weeks of exploration, and disparage the way that Royal Caribbean markets "Labadee", its "private paradise" on the north coast of the island of "Hispaniola" - presumably a more marketable concept than the nation of Haiti, which has leased the stretch of shore to the cruise line.
Yet even as the dead are being dragged from their wrecked homes, and the living are scavenging for food and water, you cannot fault the benefits to the people of that benighted country of hosting cruise ships. In the short term, the vessels are bringing in food, and Royal Caribbean has promised to donate its revenue from the visit to the rescue efforts. And in the long term, only tourism can save Haiti.