It's okay to make a loss in golf club F&B.

There, I said it.

As long as it's planned for.

This week I posted something on LinkedIn that sparked a bit of debate. I said that clubs don't need to make money from food and beverage to be successful. F&B can be viewed as a member benefit, not a commercial engine.

Some people agreed. Others pushed back. And a few asked the obvious question: "So how do you actually make that work?"

Fair enough. Let me explain.

Most golf clubs are stuck in the middle. They want F&B to deliver a great member experience and generate a surplus. They want restaurant-quality food at clubhouse prices. They want commercial margins without commercial hours or commercial footfall.

It's an impossible brief. And the result is what I call the service-business tension: clubs trying to serve members whilst running a commercial entity, without committing to either model.

That tension shows up everywhere:

Here's the point: those two models are fundamentally incompatible if you don't choose which one you're running.

This is what I call the Experience Paradox: the only way to solve the financial problem is to stop starting with the finances. Start with experience, build excellence, and let the financial model follow.

It sounds counterintuitive. But it works.

Because when you start with the spreadsheet, every decision becomes a cost-cutting exercise. Cheaper ingredients. Smaller portions. Fewer staff. And slowly, without anyone noticing, the thing that was supposed to delight members becomes something they tolerate.

But when you start with experience, when you define exactly what you want members to feel when they walk into the clubhouse, you can work backwards.

And here's the key: the funding model doesn't have to be profit from sales.

I see clubs operating in three ways, and none of them are wrong; but all of them require a clear choice:

1. The commercial model F&B is expected to generate surplus. Prices reflect full margin. Hours are driven by demand. This can work, but it creates a more transactional feel. You're running a business inside a club.

2. The breakeven model F&B washes its face. Small surplus, small subsidy, depending on the year. Most UK clubs sit here. The risk is that you never quite commit to excellence, you're always trimming, always compromising.

3. The member benefit model F&B is funded as a service. Labour costs are spread across subscriptions. Food is served at or near cost. The experience is elevated because the pressure to extract margin is removed. This is what Monterey Peninsula Country Club did when they transformed their operation, member dining tripled, satisfaction jumped, and the club's overall financial health improved.

The point isn't which model is best. The point is that you have to pick one.

When I work with clubs, I use a principle I call the 3Es: Environment, Experience, Empowerment.

Environment – Does your space reflect your standing? Would a prospective member walk in and feel proud?

Experience – Is your offer deliberate, or accumulated over time? Can members predict "good" every single visit?

Empowerment – Do you have the right leader? Is your team trained on hospitality? What happens when you're not watching?

All three need to work together. You can't skip one. And all three require investment—not necessarily more money, but more intention.

That's what experience-first thinking looks like. You define the standard, then you build the model to fund it.

If your club decides that F&B should operate at a loss… that's fine. What's not fine is hoping for breakeven and getting a loss by accident.

An agreed cost is strategic. A hidden drain is chaos.

The difference? One is in the budget, communicated to the board, and built into subscriptions. The other shows up at year-end as a surprise, triggering panic, cuts, and short-term fixes that make next year worse.

Planned subsidy lets you invest. Hidden drain forces you to retreat.

That's the line I keep coming back to.

Golf clubs spend fortunes on their courses. Greenkeepers, irrigation, bunker programmes, course renovations. And rightly so, the course is why people join.

But then members walk into the clubhouse and the vibe is... fine. Not bad. Not great. Just fine.

That gap matters. Because "fine" is the most dangerous word in golf club F&B. It doesn't trigger complaints. It doesn't spark action. It just quietly erodes loyalty.

Great clubs don't accept fine. They define the experience they want to deliver, and they build everything around it.

If you're reading this and wondering where to begin, here's my suggestion:

1. Decide what you are. Service or business? If you're not sure, you're probably stuck in the middle, and that's where standards slip.

2. Define the experience you want. Not in vague terms. In specifics. What does a member feel when they walk in? What do they order? How long do they stay? What do they say when they leave?

3. Cost it properly. What does that experience actually require? Staff, ingredients, environment, training? Be honest.

4. Build the model to fund it. That might mean raising prices. It might mean increasing subscriptions. It might mean accepting a planned subsidy. But whatever it is, do it deliberately.

5. Measure what matters. Not just GP and labour percentage, but usage, satisfaction, retention, pride.

F&B doesn't have to make money to be valuable. But it does have to be planned for.

The clubs that thrive are the ones that start with experience, define their model, and hold themselves accountable to clear metrics.

The ones that struggle? They try to do two things at once, never commit to either, and wonder why nothing ever feels quite right.

Cut your cloth to the experience you want to deliver.

Then own it.

If you'd like dedicated time to work through your club's F&B challenges, book a Power Hour Strategy Call. One hour, focused on your situation, with benchmarking, guidance, and a clear action plan to take away. £245 + VAT.