spinofflive
FeatureImage_GolfGoods.png

OPINIONPoliticsMay 10, 2024

It’s time to ditch Berhampore Golf Course

FeatureImage_GolfGoods.png

The under-utilised course is a waste of space, and with a little political will, it could be turned into something better.

For the duration of her stay in Wellington, my long-suffering cousin listened to me rant about golf courses. They’re bad for the environment: water intensive and pesticide heavy. They take up space that could have been put to better use, such as literally anything else. They’re also elitist. I mean, who plays golf? “Steve and Joe from accounts,” I would tell her, envisioning two retired white guys in sweater vests and tight-fitting pants. “That’s who plays golf.”

This topic managed to infiltrate a surprising number of our conversations, but flared up as we completed part of the Southern Walkway. There, the hypothetical became tangible and my ranting took on magnum-opus proportions. “I mean we already have a golf course in Miramar,” I grumbled, as we passed by an empty segment of the 37-hectare greens. “Why do we need one here in Berhampore?” 

Implicit in my question, of course, was my answer: we don’t. 

In 2021, the greens had an average of 12.2 users a day, or just over seven if you don’t count the disc golfers. If you’re one of the club’s 100 members, that means no queues. If you’re one of Wellington Central’s 213,000 odd other residents, it means loads of land you will probably not use but continue to support financially through parking tickets and rates. 

Granted, it doesn’t take much bank to keep the greens green: around $150k a year. The real cost is the resources and the opportunity. By having Berhampore Golf Course we don’t have an Ōtari-Wilton’s Bush of the southern suburbs. We also don’t have more houses to help ease the chronic shortfall that has pushed the region’s rents up to $640 a week, and house prices to $820,000. 

I am not a creative thinker, and calls to turn the space into something other than an adult’s playground are not new. Even suggestions to downsize the golfer playground, though, have proved contentious. The reasons for this are nominally two-fold, but ultimately political. 

The course is part of the Wellington Town Belt Act 2016, and so major changes to its use – such as turning chunks of it into housing – require changes to legislation. This is, administratively speaking, a pain in the ass, but not an insurmountable obstacle. Legislation is axed, amended and introduced all the time, sometimes too quickly to be well-thought out, understood, or properly consulted on and interrogated. 

‘If you regularly enjoy The Spinoff, and want it to continue, become a member today.’
Toby Manhire
— Editor-at-large

The Fast-track Approvals Bill, for instance, was introduced to the House under urgency at break-neck speed and is now with select committee. Chris Bishop reckons it will be good for lifting New Zealand’s productivity and living standards. Other commentators think it’s “the worst piece of law proposed since 1979” and a “naked power grab” that undermines Te Tiriti obligations and will have devastating consequences for the environment. 

How, then, can government be so quick and yet so slow to make change? In this case, the current right-leaning central government hates “red tape” with the same vehemence with which the left-leaning local government loves the course. 

Opened in 1915, Wellington city councillors have continuously protected the greens, pointing to its history as the country’s first, and city’s only,working-class golf course.” In 2019, then-Rongotai rep and club-patron, Paul Eagle, said the course was multicultural, inclusive, and beloved in the area. Southern ward councillor Laurie Foon agreed, calling the course an asset to the community, and something that she would stand in front of a bulldozer to protect.

Today, the idea of a working-class golf course seems oxymoronic. Still, it’s hard to have gripes with the concept behind it: working-class people, like all people, deserve leisure time that they can fill with activities of their choosing. Membership and user rates, though, indicate that golfing in Berhmapore isn’t an activity many people are choosing. For some, like me, this is because I would rather spend a day plucking hair off my arms. For others, it may be because their leisure time is shrinking as they work more hours to get by.

Councillors have also extolled the benefits of a large, green space easily accessible in an urban area. Then-mayor Justin Lester called the course part of the “lungs of the city,” and said that legislative changes could set a precedent that opens up the entirety of the town belt to a development free-for-all. Foon warned that letting even a part of the land go would make it hard to claw back, pointing to efforts in London and New York to protect Hyde and Central parks respectively.

The psychological and physical benefits of being in green spaces is well-documented. This argument, then — that we need to protect and maintain the grounds — could bolster the case against developing the land. What it can’t do is explain why it needs to remain an 18-hole. 

Last year, without a golf course, Central Park welcomed 42 million visitors. As a result of deliberate conservation efforts, it also housed 198 native plant species, and provided food and shelter for bees, birds, and other wildlife. In Aotearoa, one of the best things we can do for our own native critters is provide them with nourishing habitats. For most creatures, people included, a golf course is not a nourishing habitat. 

A golf course is also not really the issue; governance is. Cutting off a conversation before it can be had, à la local government, is a bit like ramming through legislation without debate. It’s an exercise in privilege, and it allows the few to make significant and lasting decisions on behalf of the many. This is, of course, how democracy works. When it’s working well, though, elected officials care about the ambitions of their constituents, and understand the implications of their own decisions. 

As it is, our local leaders seemed to have misplaced the gall that our national leaders have picked up. As a result, our country is staring down the barrel of the Fast-track Approvals Bill, which would override, among others, the Resource Management, Conservation, and Wildlife Acts, while also maintaining an Act that protects a golf course (the Wellington Town Belt Act). Independently, and when taken together, neither piece of legislation preserves what it should. That includes the dignity of the average working-class New Zealander.

This article was updated to clarify that the Fast-Track Approvals Bill was introduced to the House under urgency. It is now with select committee.

Keep going!
WFW_The-final-decision-1.png

OPINIONPoliticsMay 9, 2024

Wellington’s new District Plan can be the path forward out of the city’s malaise

WFW_The-final-decision-1.png

The District Plan is a blueprint for a bigger, better Wellington, through tens of thousands of new apartments and townhouses and a new approach to urban growth. Joel MacManus lays out the vision.

The process of putting together Wellington’s new District Plan has been long and excruciating. As a city, we spent years arguing about density, character protections and housing affordability through the Spatial Plan and District Plan processes. With housing minister Chris Bishop’s sign-off yesterday, it’s finally over.

It’s no secret that Wellington has been going through a bit of a tough time lately. The pipes leak, the transit is underperforming, and most of the coolest buildings are closed for earthquake repairs. Wellington doesn’t have the same GDP or population growth as Auckland, and worst of all, Gen Xers who were around in the ’90s keep telling me the city isn’t as cool as it used to be.

If we embrace it wholeheartedly, the new District Plan could be the path forward out of the city’s malaise. Not everyone will agree with all of it, but it is a plan, and it’s the best one we’ve got. The District Plan is a blueprint for a bigger, better city, through tens of thousands of new apartments and townhouses and a new approach to urban growth.

A study released yesterday by Sense Partners, commissioned by Greater Wellington Regional Council, compared how housing density affects the cost of infrastructure to local government across Wellington. The results are almost perfectly linear: the higher the density of the area, the lower the cost of infrastructure per dwelling. The solution is obvious. Wellington will only fix its problems by growing. More people and more homes means more ratepayers to cover the costs of better infrastructure, better transit and better civic services.

Higher-density areas have a lower cost of infrastructure per household. Source: Sense Partners

A larger, denser population will also mean a more powerful city economy with more productive, high-tech jobs, and patrons to support a more vibrant arts and culture scene. Density has plenty of other advantages too, like lower emissions, cheaper house prices and better access to services.

But arguing about the merits of density is kind of a false debate in Wellington anyway. There are some parts of New Zealand that can have that discussion. Christchurch could realistically reach a population of one million with suburban sprawl alone. Auckland already did. Wellington simply doesn’t have room. The hills and harbour limit the amount of flat land. Wellington doesn’t have a choice between high-density growth and low-density growth. It has a choice between high-density growth, or stagnation.

So now that the District Plan has passed, what can Wellingtonians do to support the future of their city? For starters, we should wholeheartedly embrace our identity as a growing city. We should take pride in new housing developments and taller buildings as symbols of our city’s progress, rather than trying to fight them.

In the next few years, someone might try to build a new apartment building near your house. You may feel uncomfortable about how it changes the street you know and love. Some of your neighbours may try to oppose it (although they will have a much harder time under the new rules). I’d encourage you to reframe that worry – it’s not just change, it’s progress. It will mean more homes for people, more customers for local businesses, and better outcomes for the city.

We need to embrace the things that support density, too: public green spaces, pedestrianised areas, and space-efficient transport like bike lanes, bus lanes, trains and maybe even (*gasp*) light rail. It’s not a debate about whether you like cars or not, it’s simply physically impossible for Wellington to grow while still being car-dependent.

Wellington is already more compact and denser than any other city in New Zealand. The path forward is to double down on that, embrace it and make it part of our identity. It’s a point of difference and can be a point of pride. The capital isn’t like any other city in this country, and it doesn’t need to be. It can be better.

A quick note on heritage

Housing minister Chris Bishop rejected amendments by the council to remove heritage protections for 10 buildings, including the Gordon Wilson flats and the Miramar Gas Tank. That’s the headline most media ran with, and it’s a point that generated a lot of outrage online. I chose not to focus on it too much, because those 10 buildings are a relatively small point relative to a plan that will completely change the future of housing in our capital city.

But for what it’s worth, I think Bishop has done the right thing here. I know he absolutely despises the Gordon Wilson flats, and would have happily knocked them down if he could. It seems the council’s amendment lacked the evidence needed for him to legally remove the heritage listings. It would have required some kind of expert evidence to suggest those buildings didn’t warrant a heritage listing – not just that the heritage listings were inconvenient and annoying.

There is still a huge problem in Wellington and nationally with heritage buildings that are earthquake damaged or otherwise inhospitable but can’t be torn down. There clearly needs to be some kind of reform to allow councils to remove heritage protections, but it would be better to do that through an actual law change rather than rely on piecemeal repeals once every 20 years when a council passes a new District Plan.

‘Hutt Valley, Kāpiti, down to the south coast. Our Wellington coverage is powered by members.’
Joel MacManus
— Wellington editor

Politics