The question of whether NSW needs a new planning act and what type of planning system is required to address our housing crisis has been the subject of growing debate.
Economist Kenichi Ohmae once described nation states as “the debris of the twentieth century,” arguing that city and region states are the natural economic units of the future. These economic units are typically characterised by:
- populations of 3 to 20 million
- attractive lifestyles
- clear and coherent policies
- strong infrastructure, such as major airports and coastal access
I’d love to see a map of Australia redrawn on this basis. But this theory also raises a critical question: Should land use and urban planning policies in Australia continue to be dictated at the state level, or should local communities retain a strong role in shaping their built environments?
Spinifex is an opinion column. If you would like to contribute, contact us to ask for a detailed brief.
In Sydney, this debate is particularly relevant. The previous NSW Government’s attempts to develop a clear, coherent plan for Sydney and its regions – balancing the competing demands of growth, infrastructure, and environmental sustainability, have been sidelined. Years of consultation with communities and stakeholders have been pushed aside. Instead, a top down approach is now favoured as the response to the housing crisis.
Sydney’s urban history is defined by bold infrastructure and renewal projects. Yet, opposition to increased density often reflects a deep attachment to the garden suburb ideal. Aidan Davison suggests that our cultural preference for suburban living dates back to “Australia’s 19th century free settlers who had experienced severe social & environmental problems in the slums of Britain’s industrialising cities”. Further, the notion of the “home as a private Eden worked together with the antipathy toward industrial technology” to re-create the idyllic village in a suburban form. It is worth considering whether this mindset still underpins resistance to high density urban development. Perhaps we continue to romanticise life in the bush while dwelling too much on the perceived ills of urban life. Many Sydney communities maintain a strong “village” ethos, valuing smaller scale development and the social connection it fosters. In the postmodern era, sweeping urban redevelopment is often met with suspicion, given its tendency to displace vulnerable people and fracture established social networks.
Sydney must confront a crucial question: How should the city grow? Do we evolve incrementally with measured, organic change, or do we embrace large scale transformation? Striking the right balance is key. When redevelopment opportunities arise, meaningful community engagement is vital to ensure that new projects integrate into the existing social and physical fabric. While this process takes time, it helps build genuine communities—not just bricks and mortar. But given the urgency of the housing crisis, do we still have that time?
As Sydney grows, we must ask: are we now too large and complex for a planning framework that empowers decision making across all levels of government? Or, as Ohmae suggests, should we adopt a city/region model, leaving local authorities to manage only rates, roads, and rubbish? The core question remains: how much power, if any, should local communities have to shape the character of their neighbourhoods?
Much of the conversation about reforming the act seems to reduce it to a DA processing factory—slick, automated production lines with robots assembling an approval in the place of pesky human judgment. There is little focus on how the act should serve as a tool for creating better places.
How centralised should our planning system be? Can we balance growth with preserving the character and needs of established neighbourhoods? These are enduring questions. Perhaps they will always remain unresolved—just blowing in the wind.
From my experience working with the act for many years, whilst it is far from perfect and at times ineffectual or even idiotic — its objects are fundamentally sound, clear, and powerful. The act also provides a sensible and coherent framework for land use planning. I question whether any redraft would articulate anything substantially different from what we already understand and expect from an effective planning system. What remains essential is the development of well researched, visionary strategic plans, grounded in meaningful consultation and the fair, transparent, and efficient allocation of urban resources.
The Greater Sydney Plan exemplified this as it was developed through a democratic and collaborative process. Yet, it was conveniently discarded, deemed insufficient to deliver the scale of housing required. The dismantling of the Greater Cities Commission occurred without good reason, denying it the chance to identify new housing opportunities within the framework of the adopted Region Plans. Let’s not forget that the original draft of the Greater Sydney Plan proposed ambitious affordable housing targets—something sorely lacking today. Imagine if inclusionary zoning had been introduced in a widespread manner 10 years ago. How much further ahead would we be in providing more affordable housing? That said, the NSW Government’s commitment to increased public housing investment is commendable and much needed, given the neglect of this sector for over a generation.
The Sydney Morning Herald’s young persons’ panel suggested we return to the development patterns of the post-war boom. But we don’t need to change the act to do this—the powers to impose state policies over local communities already exist. The question is whether the planning outcomes of the post war period, which many see as scars on the landscape, meet today’s community standards. For the most part, they don’t. The buildings that followed the post war boom have rarely delivered the design quality and liveability we now expect. You can’t legislate for design quality. You can mandate the involvement of architects and design review panels, but ultimately the market will decide what is built—guided by profit margins. As a society, we continue to embrace mass consumerism and its throwaway ethos. We are unwilling to invest in skilling up our trades or building with materials of substance and longevity. Changing the act won’t change this about us.
Indeed, the Environmental Planning and Assessment Act 1979 was introduced precisely because of widespread community concerns about inadequate participation in the decision making process, inappropriate development, a lack of heritage protection and significant environmental harm.
So, what’s the answer?
Three levels of government don’t work. The jurisdictional labyrinth is inefficient, expensive, and plagued by blurred responsibilities and inept funding models. Local councils, responsible for much of the public infrastructure, simply lack the financial capacity to meet future community needs.
If we are to have better planning, then it needs to be through a regional government working with the federal government. Regional governance would overcome, to a large extent, the parochialism that thrives in local councils where only a few thousand votes can get you elected. It could also help build a more cohesive sense of identity by bringing many communities of interest together. Citizen assemblies might also help bridge the gap between local communities and regional governance, countering Nimbyism through more inclusive consultation.
To quote Col Dunkley, mayor of Arcadia Waters:
“What good government needs at every level is for all the loud, boring, self-promoting egomaniacs on both sides of the democratic process—the electors and the elected—to sit down and shut up for a while. What good government needs is for all the shy, quiet, polite and thoughtful introverts to have their turn.”
There is, however, one essential ingredient to making any of this work: changing the fundamental values driving our society—competitiveness, self-interest, and acquisitiveness. If we are to build cities that are productive, equitable, cohesive, and sustainable, our individual ethics must embrace creativity, cooperation, and egalitarianism.
Every generation has the chance to shape its cities during pivotal moments of growth and change. Whether it’s Jane Jacobs’ activism in New York, the Green Bans in Sydney, or global motorway protests, history shows that cities reflect not just physical structures but the values of the people who build them.
Ultimately, history will judge the effectiveness our planning system—not just by its physical outcomes, but by the values it reflects and the society it creates.