Planning and Participation

Preface

Public participation is integral to decision-making across the scope of public policy and governance, and in spatial and town planning in particular. But despite its revered status, participation is notoriously problematic.

Decision-makers and power-holders, as well as those who are either invited to participate or stake a claim to participate, rarely find it rewarding. Many wonder why, despite significant effort to encourage more substantive and more sustained participation, it remains deeply frustrating for all concerned. Perhaps the short answer is that, fundamentally, assessments of the success of participatory initiatives depend upon so many variables and perceptions. In particular, the rationales for participation are as contested as participatory techniques are diverse. For many, participation is a perfunctory, technical element of decision-making, there to facilitate the development control and land-use planning process. Participation can, from this instrumental perspective, alleviate local opposition to plans and offer a mechanism to harvest valuable local knowledge. Yet others have much more ambitious hopes for participation, believing that participatory techniques hold the potential to realise greater community empowerment and fulfilment. These interpretations at least hope – if not necessarily expect – that participation reflects genuine efforts to shift power to those who have hitherto had little influence in decision-making.

Methods of participation are constantly evolving, finding new and innovative outlets such as citizens’ assemblies, or the co-design and co-production of planning outcomes. Efforts to develop these initiatives are united in the notion that through intense collaboration communities can be empowered whilst decision-makers become ever more accountable, better informed, and ultimately more representative. Yet others are more critical, suggesting that participation legitimises conventional governance practices and power relations. Under these interpretations, participation maintains the status quo, providing a distraction for vociferous groups and even being regressive by privileging those who already have a degree of influence in planning decision-making. These competing perceptions of participatory practice create a contest, the interrogation of which lies at the heart of this book.

Consequently, the book takes an analytical approach to participation across its various guises. It identifies a framework to help assess the scope and performance of participatory efforts from the perspectives of the multiplicity of actors with an interest in planning. It also raises a series of questions that can be used to assess its promise, its pitfalls and its challenges. So, the book is far from an ode to all things participatory. It is written, I hope, from a critical perspective, challenging the rather hubristic claims that reverberate through policy, and practical and rhetorical accounts of participation. At the same time, however, I hope the book tends toward scepticism rather than the cynicism that can permeate many academic accounts of participatory practice (though there are, undoubtedly, rather cynical moments …). As such, it proposes that participation can be something integral to a robust, fair and sensitive planning system, if only we can release the all too often unrealised potential of participatory practice.

Insights are drawn from almost two decades of my observations of participatory practice. This has usually been conducted from the perspective of communities and civil society organisations who have been kind enough to have me loiter amongst them, in some cases for several years. Although the book offers a source of support for those engaged in designing public participation, it will also be of interest to citizens wishing to expand their understanding of participation.

Throughout the book, I present numerous contrasting case studies on public participation, providing insights into the challenges for participatory practice and identifying innovation that might offer more efficacious opportunities for public engagement. But rather than providing a technical or practical guide for engagement in planning, the book identifies the principles underlying participation. To assist the critique of participatory initiatives, I draw inspiration from the wealth of critical academic scholarship written in this field, emphasising probing, reflective questions for those assessing their own approach to participatory practice.

I would like to thank the commissioning, editorial and production team at Lund Humphries, and their talented proofreaders and typesetters, for their support and patience during the drafting of this book. Thanks, too, to the editor of this series, Professor Graham Haughton, for inviting my participation in the book series and for his invaluable comments from the outset. I am indebted to previous supervisors, mentors and employers for their support over the years. I have been inspired by the planners, community groups and individuals who have allowed me to ‘hang around’, observing their practice and allowing me to share it with others. Without their co-operation research would be impossible. And finally, a special word of thanks to Kirsten, Eledith and Tommy for their persistent tolerance and encouragement.

Chapter 1

The Problem with Participation

Introduction

‘The idea of citizen participation is a little like eating spinach: no one is against it in principle because it is good for you. Participation of the governed in their government is, in theory, the cornerstone of democracy – a revered idea that is vigorously applauded by virtually everyone.’

(Arnstein, 1969, p.216)

In 1969, Sherry Arnstein used these words to open an article that would become one of the most widely read, and certainly one of the most cited, to emerge from the discipline of planning. But despite the genteel tone invocated in her opening sentences, Arnstein’s article poked a rather sharp stick at planners, particularly regarding how they perceived and treated the people whose interests they claimed to serve.

The paper was written at a time of growing concern that bureaucratic and political elites had lost touch with the societies for whom they planned. Until this time, conventional wisdom dictated that planning was something that was done to or done for – but only rarely done with – people. But Arnstein’s critique goes further, suggesting that participation was often a charade, potentially even an outright effort to manipulate decision-making in favour of those she referred to as the already ‘haves’ in society.

Today, half a century since its publication, Arnstein’s article has lost none of its potency. It may well be essential reading for students of planning, but there is little doubt that it also makes for uncomfortable reading for anyone with an interest in participation and planning – be they practising planners, policy- and decision-makers, or members of the public grappling with their own struggles with the planning system. The concerns raised so passionately by Arnstein, and the many thousands subsequently citing her work, continue to vex planners who have long wrestled with issues regarding both the conceptualisation and practical implementation of participation. At the same time, participants often report that participatory initiatives leave them feeling not empowered but ignored and marginalised.

Spinach, it would seem, may not be to everyone’s taste.

What is the problem with participation? Why does public participation leave so many of us – professionals and the public alike – frustrated and maybe even a little despondent? And where participation does seem to ‘work’, can we learn anything that might help us create more effective modes of participation?

Participation – the right thing to do

The case for the engagement of the public in decision-making is compelling. Public participation initiatives boldly claim to make bureaucratic and administrative procedures more sensitive to the needs of those subjected to decisions. It can also democratise planning, assisting public authorities in claiming they are acting with authority and legitimacy.

The democratic right of citizens to participate in governance is enshrined in Article 21 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights which states: ‘Everyone has the right to take part in the government of his country, directly or through freely chosen representatives.’ Similarly, the ‘Aarhus Convention’ (the UNECE Convention on Access to Information, Public Participation in Decision-making and Access to Justice in Environmental Matters) guarantees public access to environmental information and participation in decisions that affect their environment.

Although the terminology and nomenclature have varied over the years and across institutional and national contexts, there has been a discernible shift in the balance of power in decision-making away from central governments to local authorities and beyond to neighbourhoods, communities and individuals. Consequently, in many parts of the world, across many issues, the public are not just subject to governance, but – to greater or lesser degrees – are agents of governance.

Planning is no exception. Successive initiatives have embedded participation across the entire scope of planning activity at multiple spatial scales. Participation is, it could be argued, particularly vital to spatial planning, given how that specific sector of public decision-making has such a pervasive influence on so many aspects of our lives. Who decides the form of the city is vital to how that place functions, and ultimately, for whom a place is for.

Consequently, the notion of public participation is a recurring theme across an array of planning policy documents and governance and decision-making initiatives. Yet the extent to which participation represents an actual shift in power is open to discussion. Participation might involve the relatively discrete activity of seeking comments on the details of a proposed development’s design, through to much more ambitious efforts to collaborate on co-produced planning interventions. What has emerged is a complex web of formal participation processes, from large-scale consultations on national policy, to near-neighbour consultation processes whereby homeowners apply for permission for relatively minor household alterations.

Planners can sometimes seem preoccupied with participation: ‘is there enough, is it the right sort, has sufficient account been taken of it?’ (Rydin, 1999, p.84). Organising, executing and making sense of public participation initiatives is something of an industry for the profession – quite literally in some instances, given the increased role for planning consultancies and even public relations companies in what was once the rather mundane and technocratic practice of providing public information. Yet, despite its criticality to the process of planning and an immense effort to promote formal stakeholder and public engagement, participation often falls short of the expectations of all those involved.

The challenges for participation are explored in detail throughout this book. Perhaps, however, the fundamental issue with participation derives from the contrasting rationales and expectations that the various actors and stakeholders take into participation interactions. It is to this issue, and the implications for the professional planner, that we now turn.

The apathetic and apoplectic public

The onus of the statutory, legal and moral obligations for planners to actively consult with stakeholders and the wider public on the professional role of planners cannot be understated. Public participation is integral to the job description of planning officers of all shades, whether they work in development control, policy formulation or outside the state apparatus in consultancies or for developers.

In England, local authorities consult across two generic types of stakeholders:

General consultation bodies. These include community and voluntary groups, faith groups, groups that represent a specific demographic race or ethnicity, or businesses, trade bodies or other interest groups.

Specific consultation bodies. These include statutory consultees with whom planners have an obligation to consult across a range of defined issues, including environmental regulatory bodies, highways and other infrastructure agencies.

Discharging these duties consumes a considerable proportion of many planners’ working lives, though the extent it leads to job satisfaction is rather more debatable. The challenges are manifold. For a start, there are the logistical difficulties of designing and implementing inclusive participatory initiatives. Set amongst the other pressures on over-worked planning departments, participation is labour-intensive and expensive to properly resource, particularly over a sustained period. At the same time, it can be difficult to see the appeal of participation to the wider public who may at times appear indifferent to planning issues and detached from the efforts of planners to encourage participation. Drumming up any public engagement in some issues can be deeply frustrating for the conscientious professional planner. The public can often be considered as simply ‘too hard to reach’, a term returned to later in the book. But even if there is local interest, aspects of planning – particularly policy-orientated initiatives – can be abstract and aloof; even a little dull.

Planning is technically complex and jargon-laden, requiring a significant effort to fully grasp the nuances of large-scale planning applications or policy proposals. It follows, therefore, that any effort to engage seriously in the planning decision-making process requires an immense commitment by interested parties. There is a further concern that those who participate are either drawn from the same narrow cross-section of the