Debates about planning tend to focus on the political process. Is it democratic? Do those affected by planning decisions have a sufficient say in them? Is everything weighted towards the developer? Is there an adequate right of appeal? These are the frequent questions. And they are important ones, as the openDemocracy debate has shown. Jules Lubbock, in particular, has clearly put his finger on something, in arguing that the planning process so often defeats its own objectives, while giving no real power to the people.
But it is worth emphasising that planning decisions are taken at three levels: by the elected councils, by the governments Secretary of State on appeal, or in the first instance, through planning guidelines interpreted and upheld by planning officers at the local authority (in a process brilliantly explained and criticised by Simon Fairlie). The work of the planning officers is often overlooked. But, in my experience as a local councillor, I have found myself time and again admiring their conscientiousness.
When people complain that the planning process is corrupt we tend to think of bureaucratic corruption. This is certainly not the case in North Wiltshire. On the contrary, when decisions are taken against planning guidelines it is the decision of the elected representatives. Elected people have interests, friendships and party-political affiliations which can sway their decisions. People can also stand for election to the local council, and sit on the planning committees, regardless of the fact that they are themselves developers, builders or planning consultants (to put it bluntly, people who sell their political connections). This way, developments opposed on scrupulous and principled grounds by the planning officers, can be voted through by councillors whose intimate knowledge of the situation seems a little too close for comfort.
Without fear or favour
As for the officers themselves, I should say that theirs is a thankless and even risky profession. It is they who have to inspect, oppose and enforce, and it is not infrequent for an officer to be violently treated by the person whose fait accompli he wishes to défaire. Without them, however, planning would be impossible. Councillors, by their democratic appointment, are too close to applications to be fully impartial. They know the social, economic and family situation behind requests for planning permission, which without clear guidelines, would be their overriding consideration. While they feel a responsibility to add this knowledge to the debate, it can lead them to call for permission for poor developments, which in their heart, they would prefer to avoid.
Likewise, proposals for brand new developments, even if they fit into planning guidance, will attract no end of genuinely democratic opposition which can only be overcome by appropriate policies. In these situations the planning officers come into their own with their impartial advice about rules, precedent and the grounds the applicant may have for appeal. It is only by following advice from the officers that corruption and short-termism is avoided.
(Good) decisions need (wider) discussion
To achieve an acceptable equilibrium between change and stasis, modern and traditional uses of the land, stylistic innovation and heritage all this is a Herculean task, and one frankly beyond the competence of most elected councillors. Maybe the planning officers are the last surviving instance of the old public-spirited ethos attributed to British civil servants by those foreign visitors like Karel Capek, who praised our curious manners and even more curious institutions. If so, this is another reason for opposing Jules Lubbocks desire to get rid of planning. Who wants to destroy a profession where public spirit has so far won against corruption, and the general good against private interest?
When people call for more democratic decision-making on planning matters, I often wonder whether they would get what they expect for it seems to me that it is precisely the democratic component of the planning process that leads to anomalies. I suspect that many people havent found out or taken the time (and it does take time) to exercise their democratic voice. The real missed opportunity lies in the consultation process that precedes the rule-making. The opportunities here are great and the success of the Council for the Protection of Rural England, with its campaign to prevent building on green fields, is the most striking example. Surely it is by broadening the discussions that are resolved, or at any rate concluded, by guidelines that we can ensure that the real wishes of the people are taken into account.
