Exploring The Space Between Sprawl And Tall.
INTERVIEW WITH ANDY FERGUS
An absence of buildings around the Byron Shire is the best. Or is it the worst? The space allows nature to thrive, but it also creates pressure. Andy Fergus, an urbanist and teacher at Monash University, believes there's a sweet spot between green and growth.
A disconnect between a community and its housing.
While the environmental character, people, and cultural output of Byron is unique in so many ways, it's also plagued by a critical problem shared by so many coastal towns in Australia, which is the outcome of leaving the provision of housing almost entirely to the free market.
New housing supply is scarce, with homes concentrated at the highest possible price bracket. Compact private rentals, along with social and affordable housing, are almost non-existent. With the exception of surviving shacks, this nuclear family suburban housing stock feels more like the outer suburbs of an Australian city and doesn't reflect the alternative lifestyle that's so embedded in the cultural identity of its inhabitants.
Of the 16,915 homes in Byron Shire 79.9 per cent are detached single homes, a bungalow on a suburban block, with 10.7 per cent some form of low-scale unit development and 6 per cent apartments. Highlighting the inefficiency of this breakdown, 71.1 per cent of houses comprise of three or more bedrooms, while they only average 2.5 people, while the demand for smaller dwellings grows for younger and older people and single parent households.
The supply of new dwellings has been mostly limited to small scale infill housing on existing suburban plots, and new subdivisions on the edge of townships. There's only three major land areas available for intensive residential developments in Mullumbimby, Brunswick Heads and Byron, two of which are significantly flood affected. The impact of Covid-19 and La Nina has only magnified a problem that's been creeping up on the Shire the past 20 years. In this context of scarcity, almost unliveable asbestos shacks are renting for eye-watering prices well outside of the reach of locals.
Getting beyond destructive to gentle density.
So, what are the options? Lots of planners and developers will talk of additional height and density, but hasn’t that war already been won in Byron? One of the most extraordinary things about the Shire is that the views to the Cape, the hinterland, and Wollumbin dominate the scenery, instead of glitzy glass towers like they do up north across the border. To have won this battle for buildings “no higher than a tree” is no small feat in the context of NSW. Locals are right to cling to this victory, because the townships of the Shire remain defiantly different from the rampant coastal development elsewhere. Of course, the problem of new housing supply could be solved by going up, but what would prevent these new taller buildings being full of luxury apartments used as holiday homes for the rich?
The downside to this win is that it promotes girth over compactness, a greater development footprint in the landscape to house the same amount of people, and something akin to ‘upmarket sprawl’ where even the most environmentally conscious residents have to accept a gas and electricity guzzling brick bungalow dependent on a car to buy a carton of oat milk. It's not hard to understand why we've consented to this monumental compromise, because many people who move to the Byron Shire are looking to escape the density of the city. They want the lifestyle of the 1970s, where there was enough space for chickens and a veggie patch and the kids could run around the backyard. Unfortunately, that vision in a well serviced location is no longer affordable for the majority today, so we need to find a solution that enables sustainable living somewhere between high rise and the detached home.
One of the most extraordinary things about the Shire is that the views to the Cape, the hinterland, and Wollumbin dominate the scenery, instead of glitzy glass towers like they do up north across the border. To have won this battle for buildings “no higher than a tree” is no small feat in the context of NSW.
I’ve spent much of my life asking simple question like, what alternatives exist? Why do we accept the artificially narrow choices provided by the market? What social, cultural, and economic preconditions gave rise to alternative models? What might it take to create these options so a single mother and child, widower with carer, childless couple, single young adult and downsizing retirees could all find forms of housing that aren’t currently the right fit for a four-bedroom brick veneer in Ocean Shores. This has led me on a journey across cities and regions to find home grown examples, as well as places as diverse as Japan, the USA, Netherlands, Denmark, Switzerland and France. While inspired by the many possible ways of living better, what I've really learned is that it's up to each society to set their own social contract with government and the private sector to establish the terms on which housing is built and whose interest it really serves.
What excites me are the plethora of models that translate to Byron Shire. Low slung, compact homes clustered within a landscape setting. Compact manor houses with a collection of two or three single person homes stacked together. Homes that prioritise the courtyard over the car, the common garden over the backyard, and shared workshops over private garages. Homes that encourage people to be neighbourly when they choose and afford the discretion to be intensely private when required.
Drawing lessons from our own backyard.
The answer isn't going to be found by importing Amsterdam to Alstonville. It would be remiss of us to look immediately beyond our borders because so much of this vision can already be seen in the Shire’s culture of multiple occupancies, communes, and other legal and informal collective living experiments of the post-Aquarius era. We can also look to the '70s experiments of co-operatives and cluster housing in Canberra, and the artists squats and share houses of '80s and '90s urban Australia. Far from radical experiments for the eccentric, there's much to learn about how these examples from our own history can translate to serve a far broader demographic. Many of these smaller, more modest forms of compact living come with lower build costs and simpler construction methods that are far better suited to the region’s housing needs than international examples of seven storey cold climate concrete apartment buildings. They also promote smaller community scales that support improved attachment and community resilience outcomes.
Is there a reason these alternative models remain at the fringe? Why is our urban development dominated by either developer-led house and land packages, or apartments built for maximum profit? The issue lies partly in our regulation, which tends to make it hard to build the unfamiliar, but it's a lot more to do with our poor understanding of tenure; the options that exist between the institutions of ownership and renting.
Weaning ourselves off the inevitability of ownership.
Since the era of Robert Menzies, where the politics of housing was dominated by the idea that "people who were committed to home ownership and mortgages tended not to become revolutionaries" we've been culturally trained to believe ownership is a central pillar of Australian society, and any form of rental tenure is markedly inferior. We now find ourselves in a situation where 92 per cent of renters aspire to buy their own home and yet 50 per cent of young people are unlikely to ever own one.
This system of a freehold house for all, in a context like Byron Shire, is outside the reach of even middle-class people, so we'd better look harder to find the alternatives.
Luckily, by learning from both local and international examples, there are so many options in between: from rental co-operatives where the profit-seeking landowner is eliminated, to co-living where the private dwelling size is minimised, to shared equity and rent-to-buy, which provide long term tenure security while building a deposit. There are many opportunities outside unattainable ownership and the instability of the traditional private rental market. The diagram on the following page attempts to chart these pathways that could be available to a resident if we truly understood and had access to all the possible permutations of tenure.
I dream of a time when anyone looking for a home has a catalogue of diverse options in front of them that truly reflects their needs.
Dreaming of compact intentional communities.
Let’s take a closer look at a few that could be transformative in the local context. Firstly, the small-scale rental co-operative: 30-to-40 apartment dwellings, organised in clusters of 10 neighbours around a communal garden or habitat corridor with open walkways and stairs. Cars parked to the side in a common area, and a beautiful, landscaped walk to the front door. Residents are empowered by similar rights as owners with long-term flexible leases, rent stabilisation that protects against price hikes, and residents set their own rules for how the community is governed. Low-cost debt paid off over the life of the building ensures a modest return for a mutual bank, while providing a source of sustainable, attractive rental housing.
Whether four-bedroom shared houses, small compact studios or live/work lofts, rental co-operatives can provide a platform for a range of design outcomes where the community has a large degree of self-governance. While selection criteria could be applied to key workers, or creative and cultural community contributors, there's no penalty to earning an income, no threat of eviction if circumstances change. Any money that's saved is freed up from a mortgage and can be re-invested in other areas outside of real estate, like a friend’s start-up business.
Another great potential is the shared equity townhouse. Again, more about finance than physical form, this model allows for small scale clustered townhouse or manor house development, where the occupant can contribute a small amount of equity to secure a proportion of their home.
Any wealth created in the paying down of the mortgage is retained by the tenant, who can either remain long term, or build a deposit to shift into another form of accommodation. This model is particularly important for older residents with a lower ability to secure debt, or a divorcee who's seen their wealth halved and the housing market slip out of reach. The ethical co-investor maintains the long-term value of the property and as the tenant moves away the home can be made available again to the next co-purchaser, recycling the benefit.
REDESIGNING THE BYRON SHIRE HOUSING MARKET
This is just the tip of the iceberg.
I dream of a time when anyone looking for a home has a catalogue of diverse options in front of them that truly reflects their needs. From right-sized homes that match their lifestyle, to a price point that supports a diverse, inclusive community, and in arrangements that support healthy communities. The answers don't lie in either sprawl or tall, but in the far richer space in between, in the sense of gentle density, but equally in ownership models. It's only by unlocking these elements that we can hope to break the narrow definition of possibility that's currently dictated to us by the off-the-plan housing market.
The Northern Rivers has always been a place of incredible diversity, both in nature and culturally. It deserves to have housing that's equally as eclectic. And while getting there from what exists today might seem like a monumental shift, the reality is these options aren't blocked by policy or bureaucracy, merely a lack of imagination. It's been proven there are better ways to create housing for everyone. The models are out there. All we need to do is bring them home. ▲