Let's face it: is that room really worth that much?

Still very popular are the camping style shower cubicles that are prohibitively difficult for taller people, the joints in all shades of gray that are now only a vague memory of white, two light bulbs that are strictly different in tone and an extractor fan that seems to be ready to take off at any moment; they often show off old TVs with all the wiring on view and breakfast buffets that take us back to the 80s.
But we are determined to sell that room for the price of a suite in the Burj Al Arab Jumeirah.
Most of the time the mistake is made in good faith: following reviews and various feedbacks that are not exactly exalting, it often happens that they ask me - disbelieving and angry - if in my opinion that room is really so bad.
Incredulous because you really don't understand what is wrong; angry because behind it there is money spent, sacrifices and maybe the (genuine) conviction that that green wallpaper, that brown carpet that has seen better times and that "elaborate" bedspread would not have deserved such harsh words.
I understand that one often feels endowed with innate good taste, evolved architectural skills and a solid foundation in lighting engineering. It's just part of human nature.
And at the same time I also understand how easy it is to fall into the terrible misunderstanding "what I like is beautiful". The problem is the disastrous consequences of this categorical statement.
So let's get the topic back on track and say that "what you like doesn't necessarily mean that your guests will like it": In this way no one is offended and I can continue my article with a clear conscience.
So let's leave aside for a moment all the current concepts of pricing and revenue: let's forget about demand, the booking window, but above all our consultant who, considering all these factors, tells us that we can easily sell that room at the price we want. 
Years ago the hotelier was a really good job: guests went on vacation to relax (not for the 2.4 days) and were hardly reachable - due to the absence of cell phones - from work, worries, bad news and dependence on weather forecasts. Ah, I forgot: there were no reviews and no OTAs.
At the departure, he would greet us with a handshake and maybe already book for next year.
Today our potential guest books using his smartphone 50 meters from the entrance of the reception, arrives stressed, hungry for wi-fi and pretensions. As if that wasn't enough on departure, if something wasn't to his liking, he tries to extort us by threatening a bad review.
Basically, I would say that the work of the hotelier has become much more complex than before, but above all, in many ways, it has become distorted: the fact that most bookings come from online channels has already eliminated the first phase of human relations, which now takes place only residually on arrival.
In the end, I would like to say that this work in some aspects is not as good as before.
So let's not make things worse and more difficult than they already are by adopting a simple logical criterion: a high price must be justified by the quality of the room and of the services we offer for sale. Otherwise, let's keep our feet on the ground and let's try not to overdo it: I guarantee you that that (fictitious) higher income will soon turn into a much higher loss.
It is no longer enough to have a place to sleep to win the game: when the door of our room will open we will have to succeed in snatching that "wow" from our guest. Then, yes, when we are able to show them and make them live experiences that are not everyday, we can rightly be a bit pretentious in price.