The vision splendid

GREATER Hobart needs a plan — a grand, ambitious vision with its foundations planted firmly in bricks-andmortar reality.

Greater Hobart’s population of 229,100 is likely to swell by up to 102,070 by 2066, according to statistics published in the Mercury this week.

Coping with this unprecedented growth requires the three satellite cities of Kingston, Glenorchy and Bellerive to be properly integrated with Hobart while being self-sufficient so those living and working there do not need to travel into the capital’s centre on a daily or weekly basis.

That means functional transport systems, adequate accommodation and sufficient local services.

The plan also will require integration of outlying centres Sorell, Brighton, New Norfolk and Margate.

We have two options: sit with our fingers in the dam wall and cling to what we have and love about Hobart, or plan to ensure those qualities are protected and enhanced.

I’d love Hobart to stay as it is, but we have a moral obligation to share the privilege of living here and to accept some population growth. Done properly, that growth can be sustainable and beneficial to us economically, socially and even environmentally.

Back in the 1990s Tasmania’s economy was spluttering. Tasmanians left the state for work. Manufacturers closed. Windows of abandoned shops were plastered with old newspapers. Unemployment rocketed.

There were understandable calls to lure developers here with financial incentives, weak planning laws and cheap giveaways of land, resources and assets. We were desperate. But the tide has turned. Our island is now increasingly recognised interstate and overseas as a gem.

Investors are scrambling for a part of the action. House prices are rising. Population is growing. New vineyards and crops are being planted using new irrigation systems. Tourism is booming. New hotels are being constructed. It’s impossible to get a builder because they are all flat out.

We no longer need to give paradise away. Tasmania’s extraordinary value is increasingly rare in the outside world of concrete, violence and disorder.

We are in the box seat and can be selective as to how we proceed. Supply of what Tasmania has — lifestyle, climate, environment and location — is limited, and global demand for it is growing rapidly.

Wise investors are not scared off by a mature comprehension of the value of our property and assets. They are enticed by it because it potentially adds value to their investments. Planning uncertainty is the killer, not tough regulations. We need a plan. There is overwhelming opposition to high-rise in Hobart, so how can we better use the space? How can ferries on the River Derwent link the city to Kingston, Bellerive and Glenorchy with public transport and private cars and to the rail corridor to the northern suburbs? How can land at Margate, Brighton, New Norfolk and Sorell serve a functioning city and take pressure off central services and transport?

How can one architectural focus at Macquarie Point become the signature of the Tasmania brand?

These things are already well debated, but we need to be more adventurous. With the northern suburbs transport corridor, for example, what’s the best form of propulsion and design? Are there better technologies? What does the future deserve and demand? Let’s be visionary.

It is time to drop the all-too-common hatred surrounding environmental sustainability and embrace the conservation of nature and scenery around us and the lifestyle we enjoy. It’s our most valuable asset. It’s why most of us are here, and why many more want to come.

Let’s take these common concerns out of politics and into communities where their roots are already deeply embedded in the hopes of families and ordinary citizens.

An echidna wandered up my driveway yesterday. Possums live in my shed. Children play on the beach five minutes away. Bandicoots dig holes in my garden. Silvereyes make nests in the tree just outside my bedroom window. A big old rosella comes when I call. Wattlebirds catch insects at dusk. Magpies sing in the moonlight. The sky is full of the stars of the Milky Way galaxy.

And the city is just 30 minutes’ drive away.

How can we plan to keep and enhance these values while accommodating more people and avoid the sad dichotomy of the city and bush of Banjo Patterson’s Clancy of the Overflow? “... and he sees the vision splendid of the sunlit plains extended, And at night the wondrous glory of the everlasting stars. I am sitting in my dingy little office, where a stingy Ray of sunlight struggles feebly down between the houses tall, And the foetid air and gritty of the dusty, dirty city Through the open window floating, spreads its foulness over all.”

Can we plan a clean city in which nature thrives and where the sunlight beams warmly through our office windows?

We either plan for it now and dare to dream of a better future, or just sit and wait for the invading hordes to foul our city.