HAUS OS is the operating system for hospitality: built for a venue instead of an office. It isn’t software and it isn’t your POS. It’s the written way your business runs — how direction gets set, how the work moves, what great looks like, and who owns what. Four pillars, twelve tools, most of them one page.

You built the concept. This is the infrastructure around it: the systems, the structure and the leadership that turn an idea into an operation that lasts.

The part that makes it different is what’s inside the model rather than bolted onto it. The guest experience, the shift, the revenue mix, manager development and change management are all scheduled parts of the system. In a company with departments those things can live somewhere else. In a hospitality venue there is no somewhere else.

Twenty years in hospitality, with people, culture and operations at the core. I built the HR and operations functions of a startup from the ground up and helped scale it past forty locations nationwide. I’ve run the openings, the hiring and the firing, the systems, and the hard conversations.

That combination is unusual and it’s the whole argument. I can tell you what broke between the host stand and the bar on Friday, and whether your termination paperwork would survive a lawyer on Tuesday. Most operating systems leave the second half out entirely.

An owner who can step off the floor. Managers who make the call instead of escalating it. A guest experience that holds on a Tuesday, not just a Saturday. Standards that survive turnover. A resignation that produces a plan instead of a six-month hole.

The measured version: your hours re-run at day 180 against the week-two baseline using the same method, your Haus Score re-scored from the same three sources, and whichever operational number the audit found — the spread between your best and worst shift, the collisions nobody counted, the throughput nobody had set.

What I won’t do is promise you a revenue percentage. I have two live clients and no published proof, and a number I can’t stand behind is worth less to you than the honest version.

The install is a fixed fee, banded by locations, how many leaders are in the room, and how complicated your revenue mix is. Retainers are a flat monthly fee on a three-month minimum. Placement is contingent and flat, agreed before the search starts.

You get the number in a written scope after we’ve looked at your business, not improvised on a discovery call. What I’ll tell you on the call is whether you’re in the range, so nobody wastes a month finding out.

Worth weighing it against the two alternatives you’re actually considering: a full-time operations hire, loaded, made for the first time with no severance protection and eight months before they’ve built anything. Or franchising, which is the other way to buy a complete operating system, and costs you your brand and a royalty permanently.

What you tried had no home. It was an event, and events decay. Nothing on the calendar returned to it, no seat owned it, no meeting reinforced it.

Three specific things are different here and you can hold me to all of them in writing. There are six gates, and nothing in a sprint starts until the one before it passed — a gate that fails moves the calendar and never gets waived. I’m absent from a full leadership meeting in week eleven, and not in the building. And Done is in your scope of work as acceptance criteria, where Done is not “the tools exist.”

No, and the honest version is that those systems are good. They were built for office companies: everyone at a desk, one product, and a leadership team that can sit in a room at nine on a Monday.

You work opposite ends of the clock. Your best information is held by somebody part-time on the floor. You’re running several businesses under one roof with one team and one P&L, and your product ships live every shift. I didn’t rename concepts built for an office. I designed around the constraints that break them.

Less than firefighting does, and the number is in the proposal so you’re not surprised by it in week five. Two pieces of it can’t move: a half day in week three with your leadership team and the phones away, and you present at every session you’re named in.

The rest happens inside meetings you’re already having. That half day is the session clients most often name as the most valuable part of the engagement, and the reason is always the same: it’s the only four hours those people have ever spent in a room together without a phone.

Both, and there’s a real single-unit version rather than a discount. Eight of the twelve tools, two guest journeys, a two-person leadership team, and the knowledge base delivered as a finished four-week sprint instead of an open-ended program.

Roughly: one to six locations, twenty-five to two hundred and fifty employees. Under twenty-five people with no management layer is too early — take the toolkit and come back. Above six locations, we should talk about whether you need this or a full-time hire.

Some of them won’t at first, and the ones who won’t are usually the ones who’ve been handed several systems over twenty years and watched every one get dropped. That’s not resistance, that’s data, and it’s fair.

Buy-in is built, not requested, which is why change and buy-in is the first step of execution here rather than a slide at the end. We build the tools with the people who’ll run them. And the thing that turns a skeptic is almost never a speech — it’s usually two of their own numbers sitting next to each other for the first time.

That’s the question the whole design answers. I run the levels of authority in reverse on myself: I facilitate in weeks three and four, we co-facilitate, I shadow, I go silent in the room, and in weeks eleven and twelve I’m absent and not in the building.

The other half of the answer is that anything requiring a facilitator dies with the facilitator. So standards and decision rights get written into job descriptions and the knowledge base, not just onto a calendar. And the day-180 check-back is booked in the room before I go.

No. We keep what’s working and build the structure around it. Most of what’s missing sits underneath the surface: clear seats, a real rhythm, standards written down, and you out of decisions that were never yours. We build in order, one sprint at a time, so nothing breaks while the foundation goes in.

It usually presents that way and it usually isn’t. Most performance problems are design problems in disguise: the ownership is fuzzy, there are no decision rights, or the priorities are invisible. An owner who’s been trying to fix a person for eighteen months is normally looking at a seat that was never built to hold them.

Sometimes it genuinely is the person, and I’ll tell you that too. But I won’t start there, and I won’t open a conversation about your business by telling you your managers aren’t good enough.

No. Your score, your four pillar meters, the questions you missed and the first move for each appear on the screen without an email address. If you want it in your inbox you can ask for it, and that’s optional.

The version that’s actually worth your time: have two of your leaders take it separately and compare all three results. The distance between you is more useful than any single number, and when the three of you disagree, the floor is usually right.

Take the Haus Score, or book the call. On the call I don’t present, I diagnose: we walk your venue against the four pillars, and you leave with the two or three things to fix first whether or not we ever work together.

Book a discovery call Take the Haus Score