Tuesday, May 31, 2005

They only knew what they're Agin, not what they're For

Seagullz rarely get invitations - we generally have to make our own opportunities and just fly on in there. Bit like businesspeople, really. There's no Gummint Agency out there for businesses which dishes out Glorious Commercial Possibilities. See a need, Fill a need.

Where was I? Oh yes, Invitations! Well, you can imagine the flutter on the powerlines when not one, but (count 'em!) Three invitations came old Seagullz way! We rented the services of a Much Smarter Gull (cost us half a day-old burger and a leftover Kiddies Vodka RTD can - bloody roguish price if you ask me, and the MSG did a couple of donuts on the way out, that's how happy she was, I blame the burger of course) and we discovered that the three Invitations were actually to the Same Event! Talk about disappointment....

They were all to attend a "Let's Not Dig Up the Brighton Mall" meeting.

Unsigned.

We tried to contain our excitement.

Successfully.

But, as things went, over the ensuing week, Sister Euphonia Gull and your faithful narrator, Elder Jonathon L Seagull, just kept thinking about this strange event, and, it being a lazy Saturday afternoon anyway, we just went along anyway, to sit on the fence outside, and use our Sensitive Gullz Hearing to spy on the meeting. And there was always the chance of a great Kiwi Afternoon Tea afterwards - Sister E is very partial to those sausage roll thingoes.

As things turned out, we were sorely disillusioned. For starters, we didn't have to worry about tuning up that Sensitive Hearing. The Language! The Volume! The Negativity! that poured out of that room could have powered half a hippy camper bus if we had hooked up the genny.

There were arguments about business. Most of the room seemed to believe that the Private Sector was some sort of Nest of Demons, who would be better off Exorcised, than inhabiting shops in the Mall. This is a very curious attitude, because, as Sister E said to me sotto voce, halfway through one of these rants, "who the hell else do these guys think manages to feed them every day, except the Wicked private Sector?"

There were arguments about Vehicles. Some of the carless types in the room were convinced that Vehicles were Evil, and that this extended to their drivers, and that we would all be better off Walking or Bussing everywhere. One genuinely deluded type seemed to imagine that in the 40's and 50's (that was clearly, to this one, a Very Long Time Ago) everyone was driving around in cars! As Grandad Theosophat Gull (who had joined us on the fence outside, to see what all the helpless laughter was about) said - those days, everyone Was walking or tramming, and nobody could afford a Car!

He then said - let's imagine this crew carrying their own food, on foot, from the farm to their home, once a day!

No container trucks! They're evil vehicles.
Sore feet!
Dire effects on Cows' Life Experiences as everyone needed more Shoe Leather!

About here, we cracked up a bit, and someone inside the meeting looked out and tried to shoo us away - said we were Interrupting an Old Lady who was Reminiscing. Well, she might have been, and we might have got a bit squawky, but the unshaven bloke next to her was doing a much better job of shouting her down than we were. Such discourtesy! Even the Tuesday Press said so, just in reportese. We did quiet down then, but.

So what was this August Gathering about?

Well, the funny thing is that we never did really find out. One lady did offer to lie down in front of the roadmaking machinery, as a Physical Protest once Legal Options (which generally involve hiring expensive lawyers, and we did detect a little shudder that ran around one or two in the room as they recalled their own experiences of that) ran out. Well, that sort of lie-in did Rachel Corrie a lot of good, didn't it.

One thing that everyone was Agin was a Road. Why?

Because it would destroy Their Space and let those Evil vehicles in. The brave Councillors present (and really, we did try to clap to encourage them, but wingz just don't make much noise) who gave up a perfectly formed Saturday arvo to listen to this sorry bunch assembly of earnest Citizens, did point out that it is actually The Council's land, and they intend to just go on and make a Road regardless. At this, one or ten people actually shuffled around and looked pleased.

Because it would lead to Unsustainable Development. The elderly gentleman who spoke about this did ramble on a bit, and I must confess to missing most of it - Grandad T had listened intently for three seconds and then fallen quite asleep. That's usual for him, but he then fell clean off his perch (corro iron fences are narrow at the top, believe me) and we had to undertake a Nemergency Rescue.

Because it would be Good for Business, and therefore we must Oppose it, because.... well, colour me pink and call me Polly, but isn't Business the whole point of a Mall anyway? What is any Mall but a collection of Shops? We did detect that very few Meeters had much direct experience of Business - there was this little curl of the lip as most speakers pronounced the word. Except the chair, who has a little business in the Mall. Which the Road could be Good for. So why...go figure, you can't make this stuff up...

Because - well, this one is really a bit hard for simple Gullz to figure out. One speaker, who kept standing a good bit of the time (in gullz, that's a Classic Dominance Posture), late in the meeting, started talking about Social Role Valorisation which seems to be

"the attainment and/or maintenance of valued social roles for people with disabilities and other groups who are held in low esteem in society, as a strategic defence against their systematic devaluation."

People with Learning and other Disabilities! Now call me old fashioned, but all that talk about Social Role Valorisation sounds like a thinly veiled insult to the good people of the meeting, doesn't it?

But the real beef we had was the beef we didn't!

After all that, after all the yelling, Shouting Down of Elderly Ladies, Presentation of Sustainable Alternatives, Let's Lie Down in front of Heavy Machinery, Let's subtly insult the rest of our fellow Citizens, and Let's not even thank our Stalwart Councillors at the end - after all that...

Everyone just Drifted off, like sand down to the Spit.

No Bloody Afternoon Tea.

No Sausage rollz.

Good grief - that's why we hungry gullz Went in the first place!

Monday, May 02, 2005

Reach for the Sky!

Gullz are opportunistic little beasties - we live on our wits, constantly cruise and look out for those treasured castaway bits and pieces that constitute our major diet. We wheel, circle, play 'spot the pedestrian' (see the Gullz Cardinal Rule) and generally keep a very good eye out for Number One. As dear old Darwin noted all those years ago, to Survive one must be Fitted to one's Environment. Mind you, he was rather taken by those scruffy little Galapagos Finches, but he speaks the truth still. Survive by adaptation, or perish!

Just like developers, really. All those cunning individuals who own large chunks of Marine Parade and have in some cases spent several million of those shiny gold coins to do so, must be thinking hard about the People's Republic of Christchurch's latest environment. Which is an open invitation to developers to join hands, sing from the same page in the song-book, seek a Private District Scheme Change, and apply the results thereof to Private Profit, wine, women (and possibly an UnCivil Union or two), and absolutely definitely, Song.

For who wouldn't scrarwk, squeal and cheep just a little bit, when one contemplates the goodies on offer! Just like Sister Gull Frances, when she has got the Gull Trifecta: spotted a Uniformed Person, buzzed an unsupervised toddler, and found a still-warm piece of ... whatever is there. Hunger trumps taste any day in our Darwinian world. Incentives to keep living really do matter.

As they do indeed for the Developer's sharp minds. Now ask yourself this: given the following facts, what would you try to do?

Fact 1: the Council will not follow through with Actual Planning to help Revitalisation along. It wants the developers to seek Scheme Changes itself.

Fact 2: The Revitalisation plan therefore loses most of it's Council mandate, because the Council has in effect walked away from it in practical planning terms.

Fact 3: Sea views sell very well along the entire length of the beach. As witness: the almost $800K paid at NorthShore for said view.

Fact 4: The first two or (if you pick a really unfortunate location) three storeys of any development property have no sea views, just Glorious Iceplant/Marram/Lupins. There is no real profit in these floors.

Fact 5: The dead hand of Ecanz lies over the dunes as regards Policy, Height, Non Native Cover and Coastal Policy. So no developer will attempt to take them on. The preferred course will be the Internet option - just route around obstacles (or in this case, over them). Build plenty high, to ensure lots of profitable, Sea View floor plates.

Fact 6: Any District Scheme change will cost plenty. Consider legal assistance, at $2K/day, muliply that by 6 to 10 developers (who will all want to retain individual counsel even if they collaborate in other areas) and a change timeline that cannot realistically be much less than 3 years - more if appeals wend on. Total input could be north of $5-8 million to get the scheme change through.

So, having digested all this - ask the Darwinian Developer the money question: what sort of Scheme Change would you seek, given this Environment?

The answer, young gullz, is probably not what the Council would have envisaged. It's own little Revitalisation Plan talked about 5-7 storey apartments over a modest area adjacent to the CDB (if indeed the centre of Brighton can be so classified).. Central Dead Zone (CDZ) is more like it. 5-7 storey towers could probably be learned to be loved in time, although the NIMBY's are out in force even at that modest height.

Developers, dear gulls, react to incentives and the immediate environment. they are already in the hole, money wise, for probably $15 million of direct investment. That burns up say $1.5 million every year in holding (opportunity) costs - that's $41 grand per day. You can feed a few little gullz with that sort of money. Throw in another 3 years ($4.5 million holding), $8 million to get a Scheme Change, and, what the heck, let's imagine a convoluted appeal process that burns up another $3million. Add that lot all up and you have - um - $30.5 million in the red.

(For Gullz sake, Answer the Question! Oh, all right.)

As a developer, I'd go for for the highest, most fabulously Profitable set of boxy little apartments I could possibly get away with.


I would definitely not ask for 8 storeys and 48 large units, selling for say $600K average each. That's only $28.8 million gross, direct build and fitout would probably run to 20 million, and I'm stuck with a one-fifth share of $30 million Planning costs too! I'm never going to get my Ferrari with this sort of profit!

No, by Gullz, I'd go for 30 storeys, and pack in 8 units per plate, and sell them for $300K each. The build cost goes up to say 50 million, my share of the Hideous Planning Change is still $6 million, but my gross is now $72 million. That's a Ferrari, a Zonda, and I still have change! Yippee!

Wait, what about the Council and the residents the damn Council is supposed to represent, I hear some naive gullz in the back row squawking about? Well, what about it, gullz?

Who paid for the Scheme Change? ME!
Who put up with the flack from Furious Hippies, tired pensioners and their damn catz, sad residents, and stupid ECanz who, unaccountably didn't see this coming? ME!
Who relinqished the chance to go for a moderate scheme change and stick to the 5-7 storey guideline? NOT ME! The STUPID COUNCIL!
Who has just set up a Perverse Incentive for all the clubbed-together developers to do the Same Damn Thing? THE STUPID COUNCIL!

I've got my Ferrari, and a small island offshore, and I don't have to live with anything I've built.

HAR HAR HAR! Or, Yo Ho Ho, and an entire pub full of rum. Oh, and Women and Song.

As a wise old economics lecturer once told me: a Monopoly is a Very Bad Thing. Unless, of course, you happen to Own one!

(A sadder and Wiser Gull doffs his Developer cap, and now speaks once more as - er - himself)

Incentives really do matter, don't they. Drop a tiny but well-formed potato chip, and we Gullz will have at it. Drop a $100 bill in the street, and see how long it flutters about. Relinquish the leadership role in District Planning to private developers, and see what you will get.

Grinning lawyers, quite a few over-tall Tsunami Refuges, and the odd Ferrari. Or three.

Excuse me, I feel an 'I told you so' coming on. I'd better find a Pedestrian to spot with it.