The East Coast could be NZ’s own Costa del Sol
No politician ever has an angry visit from a constituent complaining ‘‘I’m not happy about the infrastructure outside my house’’. They complain about potholes, traffic jams, burst pipes, trains being replaced by buses.
‘Infrastructure’ removes emotion about stuff that matters, like the towns we grew up in, our homes, and jobs in places we’d like to raise our kids.
The Infrastructure Commission has compiled a 30-year strategy, and this week rolled out a renewable energy plan. ‘‘More of the same simply won’t cut it,’’ the commission wrote. Brownie points for writing in plain English.
It says it will cost $90 billion to fix our water pipes. We need 115,000 more homes. There is a 75% chance of earthquakes on the Alpine Fault. We need to provide for a population that will grow to 6.2 million, with a quarter aged over 65, who need more hospitals and proportionately fewer playgrounds.
Although it references ‘‘towns and regions that flourish’’, it’s an afterthought in a strategy that sees our growth occurring in five big cities.
Instead of rethinking cities around flimsy apartments on major transport spines, I want our growth to be in regional cities, where land is abundant, homes cheaper and lifestyles wonderful. Swap the 90-minute big-city commute for a 10-minute commute in Hastings or Nelson.
But we can create a future in our regions only if we connect those places much better, to open up investment and jobs.
I just spent a few days in Tokomaru Bay, on the East Coast. The East Coast is one of the most beautiful parts of the North Island. Warm, white-sand beaches. Small coastal towns in heavenly locations are nearly empty, full of abandoned buildings. Old banks no-one can afford to strengthen. Abandoned meatworks and empty ports.
Land is unused because no-one can live here without a job, even though housing can be far cheaper than in Auckland or Wellington. And there are no jobs because you can’t get here. Roads are perilous. We spent a day helping lift a car back on to a road that had crumbled. Planes are expensive and impractical. There is no passenger sea or rail connection.
Consequently, businesses that remain are mostly linked to the legacy agricultural economy. As Gisborne or Wairoa are to New Zealand, so New Zealand is to the world – beautiful, hard to get to, full of opportunity.
If New Zealand’s economic future is weightless exports, selling ideas and creativity to the world, then so is the future of the East Coast. Less selling meat carcasses than selling high-value pharmaceutical products made from animal products; less selling logs and more creating the technology and design for modern wood-derived products.
Imagine a design centre based on the East Coast that developed a Gib alternative to sell to the world. If that sounds implausible, remember that
Rocket Lab started on Mahia Peninsula.
A space-based satellite-launching centre on the East Coast would need roads so it doesn’t take a whole day to get there, and air services to connect them to the world. A university science campus, a hi-tech metals or wood hub, could attract investment and talent.
No-one is going to be attracted to come to New Zealand by a boxy unit in an overstuffed city. Our competitive advantage is our regional lifestyle, so regional towns should not be an afterthought. Look at Florida’s coastline or Spain’s Costa del Sol. Huge developments over hundreds of kilometres that transformed dwindling regions into vibrant communities, full of commerce and building, and offering great futures.
Growth has its problems, but decline is worse.
The costs are large, but how did we ever manage to build power stations, hospitals and schools of the past? Local councils and hospital boards would issue bonds. You could invest your savings, earn a tidy return and know your capital had helped whack in a substation.
Local bonds were ended because a government can borrow money more cheaply, and we opened up to overseas investment. Now we look at infrastructure and worry about how the Government can pay for it all.
I would turn the Infrastructure Commission into an Infrastructure Bank – a funding agency with a development focus. Its job would be to fund capital projects, from roads and train tracks to water pipes, schools and hospitals.
We need to make it much easier to build stuff. Up to 16% of the cost of new infrastructure is spent on consents. We spend $1.3b a year just giving ourselves permission to build.
We need to think much more about what we could be, not just how to manage what we have. The Infrastructure Strategy describes the problem well, but when it comes to planning for our future, it’s like the old joke: ‘‘If I wanted to get to Dublin, I wouldn’t start here.’’
The costs are large, but how did we ever manage to build power stations, hospitals and schools of the past?