In a report last October, the Irish Fiscal Advisory Council used the term ‘the planning and objection system’ to describe Ireland’s arrangements for land-use planning. Proposals from would-be developers must first secure permission from one of the 31 local authorities and then survive a daunting obstacle-course of potential objections at An Coimisiún Pleanála, a judicial review in the Irish courts and the further risk of appeal to the European Court in Strasbourg.

The system applies not just to housing but to proposals for renewable wind and solar farms, electricity transmission lines, water treatment and water supply schemes, road realignments and even bus stops and changes to bus routes.

The Fiscal Council drew attention to the overall deficit in national infrastructure including deficiencies in the electricity and water sectors which are regularly deployed to hinder planning approval for housing projects.

The housing crisis sits top of the Government’s agenda, as it plots out priorities for a possible five-years in office, but you will not get planning consent for new housing without prior approval for power supplies and water.

Ireland’s total of 31 local authorities is rather a lot for a small country but, outside Cork and Limerick where the city and county councils have been consolidated, there has been resistance to amalgamations. The most obvious candidate for amalgamation is Waterford where the northern part of the city is in county Kilkenny and there are several counties with populations too small to justify the cost of having a distinct local apparatus.

In Dublin city and county, where physical planning would benefit from a broader perspective, there have been four councils since 1994 to serve almost 1.5 million inhabitants and the urban area has sprawled into the adjoining counties of Meath, Kildare and Wicklow. Thus, there can be as many as seven local authorities involved in the consideration of citywide projects.

Mighty councils

The local councils are effectively the gatekeepers of land-use changes and enjoy a powerful capacity, dating from the 1963 Planning and Development Act, to block or delay developments.

Their central role has survived numerous revisions to the planning system and was first enshrined in law in a very different Ireland, where the national population was only 57% of the current figure.

Even when local authority planners approve a development, the objectors enjoy protection from paying the winner’s legal costs if they appeal and lose in court, which is otherwise the standard procedure in civil litigation.

The idea is to discourage frivolous or no-hope litigation by exposing the initiators of civil legal action to liability for costs, forcing them to think twice.

The system is tilted against the vigorous pursuit of priorities which are acknowledged at national level, like secure electricity and adequate housing, by favouring the blocking interests which are mainly local. This is by design – neither central Government nor the regional assemblies have serious powers to direct local bodies to facilitate development and the recent revision to the planning act leaves the structure largely intact.

Political competition reinforces this bias. Local politicians of all parties are sensitive to purely local interests and can simultaneously complain about house prices and rents, while declining to support the zoning of land for residential development.

Members of Dáil Éireann compete in relatively small geographical constituencies and behave the same way as councillors, urging more residential development nationally while supporting local objectors. They want more housing, but not around here.

This dysfunctional system is often defended on the grounds that it encapsulates a commitment to local democracy, deemed to be self-evidently desirable.

The housing crisis is most acute in the Dublin area and in the main provincial cities where house prices and rents are least affordable.

At the last general election, every candidate in my district on the south side of Dublin had come out against specific housing schemes, including schemes proposed by the local authorities themselves of which some TDs were members.

On the north side of the city, every political party without exception lined up against the proposal to build 1,600 homes on a portion of the 35-acre site, close to Croke Park and a brisk walk from the city centre, of the seminary at Clonliffe, unused since its closure over 20 years ago by the archdiocese of Dublin.

A similar though smaller scheme further north in Raheny was opposed by local politicians concerned about the loss of grazing opportunities for migrating seabirds. They graze in every public park around the city.

Nimbyism reflects the strength of local residents’ groups, entitled to a voice but hardly to a veto.

The politicians understand that younger people, living at greater distances than they would like and perhaps still lodging with their parents, moreover priced out of housing near the main urban areas, do not vote in large numbers.

You can have too much local democracy.