Cities at war
How Auckland won the battle over Wellington to be cool
If anyone is in the perfect spot to judge the pulse of Wellington’s cool scene, it’s Prak Sritharan. The 32-year-old owns and runs an art and interior boutique, Precinct 35, along a strip marketed as part of the city’s lively Cuba quarter. He moved to Wellington to study finance 14 years ago, and has many friends who enjoy the city’s arts, music and night scene, but he feels the city has lost its way in the past six or seven years.
‘‘This fixation on Wellington being the coolest little capital is an idea which needs to stop. The city needs a rebrand. I would happily never hear that again. Just hearing it makes me cringe,’’ he says.
Twenty and 30-something Wellingtonians are starting to make a noise about their city: a crumbling infrastructure, pricey homes to buy and the country’s biggest housing shortage, a cut- throat rental market, poor city vision, and a lack of jobs and career progression.
Some are being lured to Auckland, which has its own share of problems – including expensive housing – but has new, glitzy Commercial Bay, better weather, business head offices, and a buzzing arts and events scene.
Is Wellington losing its edge? Sritharan argues Wellington lacks vision, pointing the finger at the mayor, Andy Foster, and the Wellington City Council for allowing the capital to drift with no sense of direction. He loves the geography and landscape around Wellington, but thinks the heart and soul is fading.
He thinks Wellington’s heyday was about six or seven years ago, when grungy hotspot Lower Cuba Street had exciting spots like the Matterhorn and Mighty Mighty, which have since closed.
‘‘There was a real hive of Wellington nightlife that has gone, and I can accept these places can’t exist forever. There’s a lot of appetite for people to experience more in the city. There just needs to be a concerted effort in how business owners can be supported to do that.’’
He thinks independent retailers, cafes and restaurants, which add a buzz to the Cuba precinct, should have incentives from property developers to set up shop. Lower Cuba Mall has been taken over by chain stores. ‘‘I put the blame on developers. They’ve been entrusted to rebuild parts of an iconic strip ... and they’ve turned it into a strip of soulless shops.’’
‘‘I love this city and I’m keen to see it keep growing. But there needs to be a seismic shift and it needs to start at the top. Property developers and our current mayor aren’t visionary.’’
Wellington has promoted itself not just as the seat of government but also as a city with a buzzing cultural and culinary scene but a group of young IT, engineering, law and accounting professionals recently told the council’s business advisory group that Wellington was failing to pack a punch.
Years of underinvestment in transport and infrastructure (ageing pipes and wastewater, and a lack of progress on the Lets Get Wellington Moving campaign), along with a rapidly worsening housing crisis have dampened their view of the city they have chosen as home. The professional services sector makes up 22 per cent of the Wellington workforce – bigger than the public service – and its employees are typically aged between 30 and 45.
Report co-author, Brad Olsen, senior economist at consultancy firm Infometrics, hopes the council is listening. Young professionals say Wellington is in danger of losing talent to Auckland, Sydney, and Melbourne. In the post-Covid environment, the council needs to find ways to lure and keep them here. Says Olsen: ‘‘We need to retain our competitive edge.’’
Originally from Whanga¯rei, he chose Wellington over Auckland for the work and its vibrancy. He rents a nice townhouse, but has stayed in substandard rentals before. Rents are up 10 per cent, and Wellington has one of the worst rental shortages. ‘‘We heard from people who were thinking of buying who couldn’t, and we heard from people whose rentals were really awful even though they were earning good money.’’
Olsen says: ‘‘Wellington has to stay on top of its game. It’s not just about jobs and putting on events. It’s about making the city. You need the deeper infrastructural support like housing and transport, and we don’t want sewage flowing down the street. Its the wider offering. We’re not a tourist destination and shouldn’t be marketing ourselves as such. We should be thinking of Wellington as a place to live and to put down roots and to do business in.’’
Journalist Audrey Malone is a recent migrant to Auckland and she loves everything about it: the weather, pace of life, gigs and events, and uplifting buzz. She rents a townhouse in Ponsonby, not far from her work as a planning producer at TVNZ. She is near the shops and cafes she loves, and her yoga studio.
The 37- year- old pays slightly less than she did in Wellington, but her Auckland digs are modern and warm, rather than cold, dingy and draughty. ‘‘There are always people milling about but you just go into different precincts. I love Ponsonby and around Britomart. People are always outside enjoying a drink, and I think the range of food here is really interesting and diverse.’’
Even with the Covid lockdowns, she would choose Auckland over Wel
‘‘I love Wellington and many of my friends are here. Maybe I could pull it together and get a mouldy flat or something. But it definitely makes you feel like you’re not wanted here.’’ Murdoch Stephens
lington any day. ‘‘There is so much energy here. There’s always something to do. It feels like there’s something here for everyone and you can find that vibe.’’
Communications executive Mark Watts is a born-and-bred Aucklander but admits he has a soft spot for Wellington after living there for 10 years during a fast-paced life, including many years as a senior adviser to former Prime Minister Helen Clark. He says both cities have their charms but for him the weather and in particular Auckland’s beaches are the difference, especially because some of the best beaches are just a stone’s throw from his Devonport home.
‘‘During 10 years in Wellington I swam in the sea twice; Scorching Bay really is a heroic piece of branding.’
He loves Wellington for its walkability, its food-and-drink scene and its waterfront but Auckland has noticeably caught up since he moved back there; he feels like New Zealand’s biggest city finally has the waterfront it deserves as developments such as the Viaduct Harbour and Wynyard Quarter bring it to life.
However, as a regular visitor to Wellington for work, he enjoys its very different buzz. ‘‘In Wellington, you meet people at Astoria; gossip about what the minister said in the morning and Fat Freddy’s Drop are playing in the background.
‘‘In Auckland you lunch at Prego and you’re probably going to bang on about traffic and real estate; what the minister said is of supreme indifference.’’
Dame Kerry Prendergast, Wellington mayor between 2001 and 2010, helped coin the marketing term ‘‘ the coolest little capital’’ near the end of her mayoralty. ‘‘We had so many local and community events that gave us that status,’’ she says.
Today, she’s concerned the city is in danger of losing that title.
Wellington has lost its momentum. It’s a cry she hears from business people and those in the arts and film sectors she is connected with. Wellington needs to lure businesses here, and get its buzz back.
Prendergast also came up with the idea of Wellington being the Creative Capital, which lured tech, film and arts companies here, and as chair of Film New Zealand, the Royal New Zealand Ballet and Wellington Opera she says the city has the arts infrastructure – the big organisations and so on – but doesn’t put on the local and community arts events of the past. Covid doesn’t help, but she still argues that there’s a lack of impetus.
For Wellington to attract and retain a young workforce, it needs good infrastructure. The council has not spent the required money on water and sewage over the past decade, and has also neglected roads and transport. ‘‘You can have all the sizzle you like but you won’t attract and retain good businesses without basic infrastructure. People won’t come here if there aren’t the jobs either.’’
Auckland also has its own problems: water, public transport, traffic and housing. However, Auckland runs as a super city, with councils working together for the best interests of the region. ‘‘We need everyone here to work for the best interests of the region. The city mothers and fathers need to put their heads together.’’
Mayor Andy Foster agrees the council hasn’t done enough. The night before, the council gave the controversial Shelly Bay housing development plan the green light, which he opposed.
Foster says Wellington has been neglected by central Government. The council is focusing on its economic vision, along with the liveability and the livelihood of the city. ‘‘We want to bring and keep people and large businesses here,’’ he says. ‘‘There’s a feeling . . . that we haven’t done enough as a city. That’s why I’m really keen that we do some things that are not just about talking.’’
The council is consulting various sectors about Wellington’s future and an economic forum next week will lead to a draft economic strategy.
With property prices up 20 per cent, and rents up 10 per cent, the council’s controversial draft spatial plan, Our City Tomorrow, says the city has to plan for 50,000 to 80,000 more residents over 30 years. Foster says: ‘‘ Our biggest issue is housing. It’s (young professionals’) biggest issue. We know that. But it’s a useful reinforcement of what we already know. It’s a national problem.’’
Young people are drawn to Wellington’s soul. He points to the events Wellington has that Auckland doesn’t: the New Zealand International Arts Festival, Wellington on a Plate, and Homegrown in March.
Foster says some upcoming announcements will ‘‘ put some life’’ back into the city. But it needs help from central Government: ‘‘We need some help. We can’t do everything.’’
Diane Calvert, who holds the council’s economic development portfolio, says Wellington has had a particularly tough time since the 2016 quakes, pointing to this as one of the reasons why the capital may feel like it has lost its buzz. Civic Square is framed by quake-stricken, uninhabitable buildings: Wellington’s Town Hall won’t be repaired until the end of next year, while the council has only recently decided to repair the three-storey central library.
On the horizon, though, is Takina, the 18,000-square-metre Wellington Convention and Exhibition Centre, which will open in 2023, and help the city’s competitiveness. ‘‘ That will come on tap when everything is humming,’’ says Calvert.
The day after the mayor met with the Sunday Star-Times, 20,000 litres of wastewater flowed into Wellington Harbour after a pipe became blocked. Wellington Water – owned by the region’s councils and regional council – said it had fixed the problem but erected health warning signs along the waterfront.
Murdoch Stephens describes his relationship with Wellington as ‘‘ambiguous’’. The 39-year-old author, editor and refugee activist doesn’t have the drama of traffic queues or public transport like many young Wellingtonians because he bikes everywhere. But he is currently staying with friends. He has rented some pretty awful houses before, where life felt precarious because the landlord would raise the rent, or the property manager would come in every couple of months for inspections. A house should be a fundamental right, but many of his friends are just like him: feeling like the city they once loved will no longer shelter them.
He runs publishing collective Lawrence & Gibson and was about to move to Beirut for a university teaching job when Covid hit. He’s not sure what he’ll do next.
His friends – artists and musicians – are moving to Whanganui or Dunedin. Author of a satirical novel, Ratking Landlord, he says: ‘‘I love Wellington and many of my friends are here. Maybe I could pull it together and get a mouldy flat or something. But it definitely makes you feel like you’re not wanted here.’’
Stephens questions the city’s energy. ‘‘Big cities like this do rely on the work of young people and at a certain age, maybe it does push them out. It is hard to settle down here. If you don’t have the groundswell of people in their 20s who can create a vibrant city, then that’s a problem.
‘‘These are really massive issues. These challenges are particularly acute in Wellington at the moment. If people don’t have a place to live, they won’t put down roots.’’