KEY POINTS:
Sometimes it seems like Auckland City functionaries live in a parallel universe to the rest of us. In the week bulldozers flattened the grand old Coolangatta homestead on Remuera Rd, and the historic Jean Batten State building was reduced to a skeletal frame, a la downtown Berlin, 1945, Mayor Dick Hubbard heralded new planning protections for character suburbs.
The latest plan change, he says, "sends a clear message that the city's character is a highly valued resource and the council is ready and willing to act to preserve it for future generations.
"I'm proud to be part of such a proactive move to introduce mechanisms to offer greater protection for the character of areas which make Auckland a unique city."
Talk about fiddling while Rome burned. It's not new mechanisms we need to save our heritage, it's a modicum of steely resolve to make use of the tools already in place.
A truer measure of the council's commitment to preserving our old buildings is The Built Heritage Fund, which a few weeks ago was calling for applications from people needing assistance in conserving, restoring and protecting "aspects of Auckland's built heritage for the enjoyment and benefit of current and future generations". How much was up for grabs? A miserable $50,000.
Over the past year, that vast amount was shared between 12 applicants, which averages out at just over $4000 apiece.
Neither Jean Batten nor Coolangatta were seen worthy of a place on the council's schedule of heritage buildings, until too late. On death row, Jean Batten was subsequently assessed as worthy of a category A or B listing depending on which experts you listened to, while the Remuera mansion reportedly got a posthumous B. Remarkably, it seems not a house along the northern Remuera Rd ridge is considered worthy of approval.
However, lack of bureaucratic protection should not have automatically sealed these buildings' fate. But what happened when the political protectors of our heritage got wind that both these buildings were on execution row? They ducked for cover and issued the death sentences in secrecy.
It's only now emerged that city councillors decided against scheduling Coolangatta, and to keep this decision secret, back in May, around the time similar secrecy was going on over the fate of Jean Batten. This was just a few months after the mayor had declared "sweeping" new regulations which would send "the strongest signals that we are serious about protecting our heritage and neighbourhoods". And it was soon after character homes in Herne Bay and Freeman's Bay had been bowled, the Herne Bay one, after council staff accepted the wrecker's evidence that the pre-1920s house dated from the early 1950s.
In the case of Coolangatta and Jean Batten, a true champion of heritage would have signalled the city's commitment to preserving its built past, not by opening the gates to the bulldozers, but by slapping heritage orders on both.
The quotes from embarrassed councillors, now that the Coolangatta debacle has been flushed out into the open, have them excusing their behaviour by saying they were unwilling to risk the cost to the city of having to pay the difference of around $2 million, between the cost to the developer of preserving the old home versus replacing it with apartments.
But my understanding is a heritage order is in the nature of an emergency stay of execution, after which everyone can sit down and talk business. With the order in place, the city can then undertake an assessment to see whether it warrants permanent protection.
It provides a breather during which the parties can also debate the relative requirements, under the Resource Management Act, to balance social and cultural protections versus economic sustainability. It would also provide a council committed to heritage protection to also undertake a bit of lateral thinking. Offer the carrot of a special heritage rate, for instance. Make the developable air space above the property a saleable asset as has happened with one or two inner city historic buildings.
In the end, a developer might contest the heritage order in the courts. But would that necessarily be a bad thing? As long as the council had acted reasonably, the result could be in its favour. Even if not, we would finally have some evidence, as would the developers, that the city's espousal of heritage was more than just hot air.
