Geoforum 41 (2010) 435–446

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Geoforum

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‘‘It’s a gestalt experience”: Landscape values and development pressurein Hawke’s Bay, New Zealand

Damian Collins a,*, Robin Kearns b

a Department of Earth and Atmospheric Sciences, University of Alberta, Edmonton, Alberta, Canada T6G 2E3b School of Geography, Geology and Environmental Science, University of Auckland, Auckland, New Zealand

a r t i c l e i n f o

Article history:Received 23 June 2008Received in revised form 17 September 2009

Keywords:Coastal landscapeNatureNew ZealandPlace attachmentPlanningProperty development

0016-7185/$ - see front matter � 2009 Elsevier Ltd. Adoi:10.1016/j.geoforum.2009.11.010

* Corresponding author. Address: Department of Ear1-26 Earth Sciences Building, Edmonton, Alberta, Can

E-mail address: damian.collins@ualberta.ca (D. Co

a b s t r a c t

Demand for both primary residences and second homes in high-amenity areas has led to escalating prop-erty values and widespread development pressure in coastal New Zealand. We focus on a major develop-ment proposal at Ocean Beach, a greenfield coastal site in the Hawke’s Bay region, and seek to explain theopposition it has provoked. In so doing, we address three questions: first, what landscape values are artic-ulated within the planning process; second, what is the anticipated impact of 1000 new dwellings onthose values; and third, how does place attachment figure in the ensuing debates. We address these ques-tions though a thematic analysis of data derived from official reports and proposals, planning submis-sions, and key informant interviews. We find Ocean Beach to be a place that offers a quintessentialcoastal experience, often linked to youthful memories. Additionally, the site is valued for its accessibilityand wilderness qualities – perceptions heightened by awareness that areas of undeveloped coastline rel-atively close to population centres are increasingly scarce. We contend that such sites are doubly valu-able: in a formal sense, as natural landscapes whose processes and forms receive regulatoryprotection; and in an informal sense, as sites that generate human meaning, including emotions suchas nostalgia, freedom and belonging.

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1. Introduction

Residential and commercial development in coastal areas mayhave profound impacts on the natural environment, amenity val-ues and sense of community that make coastal living, and coastallandscapes, attractive and unique. Recent research into the ‘seachange’ phenomenon in Australia – migration away from metro-politan centres and inland regional cities towards smaller outlyingsettlements – has documented the ‘‘profound socio-economic andenvironmental changes” (Gurran et al., 2005, p. 11) associated withrelatively rapid development of coastal areas. These have includedsocial polarization and reduced housing affordability, as well as‘‘biodiversity loss, water degradation (. . .), habitat fragmentationand loss, conversion of rural lands, and degraded scenic values”(Gurran et al., 2006, p. 2). In addition, the experience of place asso-ciated with built and natural environments is frequently jeopar-dized by development, and in particular by approaches to designand construction that depart (often radically) from local tradition.A broadly similar scenario is currently unfolding in New Zealand,driven by demand for both primary residences and (more signifi-

ll rights reserved.

th and Atmospheric Sciences,ada T6G 2E3.llins).

cantly) second homes in high-amenity coastal areas. This processhas recently received critical attention from a range of perspectives(see, e.g., Cheyne and Freeman, 2006; Collins and Kearns, 2008;Foster and Perkins, 2005; Kearns and Collins, 2006; Peart, 2004,2005).

A common – and enduring – theme in critiques of coastal devel-opment in New Zealand concerns its impacts on the landscape,with visual impacts often to the fore (see, e.g., Morton et al.,1973; Peart, 2004). As has been observed elsewhere (Jivén andLarkham, 2003), while we perceive our environment with all avail-able senses, sight seems to inform most strongly individual, sub-jective assessments of place. The focus of this article is on whatis at stake in debates over a major development proposal for OceanBeach – a greenfield coastal site in the Hawke’s Bay region of theNorth Island (see Fig. 1). Our central aim is to explain the opposi-tion this proposal provoked. We note that in urban contexts wheredevelopment proposals commonly elicit NIMBY-type reactions, theprotagonists are usually those living in the immediate vicinity. Inthe case of our field site, we are concerned to explain oppositionfounded on affective bond rather than residential propinquity.Our questions are threefold, and address the perspectives of oppo-nents, proponents, and official arbiters of the proposal: first, whatlandscape values characterize the site; second, what is the antici-pated impact of 1000 new dwellings (together with associated

Fig. 1. Ocean Beach and the Hawke’s Bay region.

436 D. Collins, R. Kearns / Geoforum 41 (2010) 435–446

infrastructure, and commercial and civic facilities) on those values;and third, how does place attachment figure in debates over the fu-ture of Ocean Beach.

Ocean Beach is an expansive coastal landscape encompassing a9-km long golden sand beach, distinctive headlands, an extensivedune system, and coastal flats leading to steep hills and a promi-nent ridgeline. Current land use at the site is primarily pastoral;the built environment is limited to 32 basic cottages – known inNew Zealand as ‘baches’ (see Kearns and Collins, 2006) – and scat-tered farm structures. The beach otherwise has a rural/wild qualitywith broadly-recognized scenic and recreational values. Immedi-ately to the south of Ocean Beach is Waimarama, where a bach-style community has developed in an ad hoc fashion into a sprawl-ing settlement of around 230 dwellings.

Land ownership is divided among seven parties: three privateowners, two estates/trusts held collectively by local Maori, a smallsurf club reserve owned by the District Council, and a 20-m widemarginal strip on the beach owned by central government. In2006, a local development company, in conjunction with other pri-vate owners, proposed a plan change to permit substantial residen-tial and commercial development broadly grounded in newurbanist principles. This plan has attracted a notable degree ofinterest and comment in the wider community, and public inputhas been sought at various stages by the local authority, the Has-tings District Council (HDC).

Drawing on a discursive data set developed from in-depth inter-views, a sample of public submissions, and published reports andplans, this article presents a thematic analysis of values attributedto the site and anticipated impacts of development. The concept oflandscape features centrally, connecting planning and resourcemanagement concerns for the natural environment to humanisticconcerns about the qualities and experiences of place. Our argu-ment is that undeveloped beaches, at least in New Zealand, aredoubly valuable: in a formal sense, as natural landscapes whoseprocesses and forms receive regulatory protection; and in an infor-mal sense, as sites that generate human meaning, including emo-tions such as nostalgia, freedom and belonging. This frameworkgoes some way to explaining the opposition that proposals forextensive development can evoke.

2. Development pressures on coastal landscapes

Coastal landscapes – especially wide, sandy beaches with ruralbackdrops, such as Ocean Beach – commonly generate strong feel-ings of attachment in New Zealand. Close connections are routinelymade, especially in art and literature, between the coast and na-tional identity (Matthewman, 2004). Such connections may origi-nate in whakapapa [ancestral links] in the case of Maori, or –more generally – in repeated visits and a sense of reverence for

1 Occupation rates in some popular coastal towns have been as low as 20% oncensus night (Peart, 2004).

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the land/seascape. Indeed, ‘‘for many New Zealanders the beach isthe essence of the Kiwi dream”, and free and easy access to thecoast is often understood ‘‘as a national birthright” (Phillips,2007, np).

At the broadest level, attachment to coastal landscapes tra-verses cultural boundaries. As West-Newman (2008, p. 166) notes,both Maori and European New Zealanders ‘‘take beaches to be partof their identity.” This is due, in part, to the value of beaches as rec-reational sites, and places at which it is possible for predominantlyurban peoples to experience (‘reconnect with’) natural elementsand processes (Collins and Kearns, 2007). For Maori, other layersof meaning may also be present: Smith (2004) documents affectivebonds for the coast grounded in both utilitarian and spiritual val-ues. Thus, a beach may be important as a site for gathering kaimo-ana [seafood], as a ‘‘familial landscape of the people whose livesare linked with your own through threads of ancestry”, and as aplace that provides ‘‘reminders of, and emotional attachment to,the ancestors” (Smith, 2004, p. 15).

Ongoing development in part responds to enduring demand forresidential space in the coastal zone, but at the same time is oftenseen as destructive of the very qualities that have propelled thebeach to a central place in the hearts and minds of many. Thesevalues include visual amenity, environmental quality, and socialinclusiveness. Damage is attributed, in large part, to the cumulativeimpacts of piecemeal development, intensification, and subdivi-sion (Peart, 2005). At a physical level, such impacts can includefragmentation of native vegetation, increased sedimentation ofestuaries and harbours, coastal erosion, the spread of weeds andpests, and habitat destruction. At a social level, they can includeloss of affordable housing, treasured landscape values, and senseof place.

As has been observed in Australia, small-scale land use deci-sions in the coastal environment may have only minor effects inisolation, ‘‘but combine to produce a major change” (Gurranet al., 2005, p. 19). Such change is currently underway almosteverywhere in coastal New Zealand, outside the conservation es-tate. While many expensive coastal homes have been built (seeCollins and Kearns, 2008), their construction has frequently comeat a cost to coastal landscapes.

A significant component of this cost is visual intrusiveness. It isoften remarked that new coastal housing is ‘in the face’ of beach-goers, by virtue of increasing average sizes and densities, andgreater visibility (see Peart, 2004). Such complaints serve as a re-minder that while residential development is usually confined toprivately-owned land, it can be perceived as detracting from rightsto enjoy adjacent public property in the coastal environment. Atstake, in particular, are the values attached to an ‘open’ landscape,to uninterrupted views of the coast and its hinterland, and freedomfrom the surveillance of owners (Collins and Kearns, 2008).

With literal beachfront sites often built out, there is increasingdemand for houses on headlands and ridgelines above the beach,built to maximize views. Such locations may be highly sensitive,especially in terms of their significant contribution to public view-lines and vistas. Coastal houses on elevated sites tend to disruptnatural contours, and have the potential, both singularly andcumulatively, to dominate the landscape. In short, they can detractfrom a sense of wilderness, and have a ‘substantial footprint’ pre-cisely because they tend to be imposing and widely seen (Peart,2007). In addition, owners of such properties, having paid hand-somely for their views, may proceed to ‘‘act as if they have pur-chased a view easement over the beach, the tidelands, and theocean” (Thompson, 2007, p. 223), and seek to secure this rightthrough actions detrimental to ecological values and public enjoy-ment (e.g., the removal of significant trees).

New Zealand, like Australia (see, e.g., Gurran et al., 2007), isexperiencing both suburban-style sprawl in coastal areas, and the

intensification of select existing coastal settlements – both pro-cesses that may detract from landscape values and a sense of ‘nat-uralness’. Such changes are brought about, in part, by strongdemand fuelled by positive perceptions of coastal lifestyles, cli-mates and landscape elements (Essex and Brown, 1997; Cheyneand Freeman, 2006). Beyond these broad similarities, however,important differences exist between the New Zealand and Austra-lian experiences of contemporary coastal development.

A first key point of difference is socio-economic. Australia’s ‘seachange’ has been driven in part by the lower cost of housing inmany coastal destinations relative to major metropolitan centres.Thus, ‘‘lower income and income support recipients (the unem-ployed, single parent households, disabled and aged pensioners)”(Gurran et al., 2006, p. 3) have featured in the phenomenon. Bycontrast, coastal real estate in New Zealand commands a premium.Sales prices for coastal houses have increased at rates significantlyhigher than regional averages (Cheyne and Freeman, 2006), and arecent survey of advertised prices found very few properties (threeout of 102) listed below the national mean sale price (Collins andKearns, 2008). Thus, opportunities for moving to the coast to pur-sue more affordable housing (as opposed to, say, lifestyle and ame-nity benefits) are extremely limited.

Second, whereas ‘sea change’ comprises in large part a perma-nent migration to non-metropolitan coastal locations, New Zea-land’s ex-urban coastal property market is driven primarily bysecond home tourism. Because coastal homes in relatively ruraland remote areas of New Zealand are generally intended for recre-ational and tourist purposes – not year-round occupation1 – rapidescalations in price do not necessarily raise politically-charged ques-tions about the increasing inability of low-income households un-able to afford primary residences in these locations. Whiledisplacement of some lower-income owner-occupiers and rentersfrom coastal areas has been noted (Freeman and Cheyne, 2008),what is more commonly remarked upon is the increasing inabilityof middle-income earners to afford second homes at the beach (Wat-kin, 2006).

At the centre of many debates over coastal development is thefundamental question of what kind of place a particular beach, orcoastal landscape, should be. In the specific case of Ocean Beach,what is at stake, in the first instance, is a coastal wilderness in rea-sonable proximity to the region’s population base. A second issuecentres on private property rights at the site, and how these mightbe balanced against both regulatory and popular demands forlandscape protection. A third set of concerns relates specificallyto the proposal itself, which advocates a form of greenfield devel-opment that is likely to have significant impacts on natural quali-ties and landscape values, and is far-removed in both style andscale from traditional bach communities.

While notions of ‘nature’ are frequently invoked in discussionsover the (in)appropriateness of coastal residential development,the ‘naturalness’ of New Zealand’s coastal landscapes is open to de-bate. Most areas that remain largely ‘unsettled’ have neverthelessbeen significantly modified by processes such as deforestation,the introduction of non-native plant species, and the establishmentof agriculture. These significant material changes exist alongside abroader cultural contestation over whether the term ‘nature’ refersonly to pristine landscapes, or also includes areas that have beenculturally worked, and are ‘‘now thoroughly inscribed and trans-formed through cultivation and stewardship” (Duncan and Dun-can, 2001, p. 402). Hull et al. (2003) contend that ‘nature’ shouldnot be defined from an all-or-nothing perspective. Instead, theterm should be measured along various dimensions of human-in-

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duced environmental change, according to factors such as degree,spatial extent, and abruptness.

It follows from such thinking that landscapes which have beensubject to significant human impacts in the past, but are now rel-atively stable, may come to be perceived as ‘natural’. As Hull et al.(2003, p. 6) note, this is particularly likely if there is a limited hu-man presence in the form of ‘‘contemporary humans, their anthro-pogenic structures, sounds, smells, and regimes.” Indeed, ‘nature’may more often be equated with conditions that are ‘normal’, in asense ‘domesticated’, and seem to ‘belong’ than with the narrowernotion of a pristine environment; the landscape aesthetic associ-ated with propertied and managed rural environments is fre-quently subject to ‘‘naturalization” (Duncan and Duncan, 2001, p.404).

Such thinking is highly pertinent in the New Zealand context,where large areas of coastline (including our study site) have amodest human presence, beyond that represented by agriculturaland silvicultural ‘regimes’. The naturalness of those regimes is sub-ject to debate (Peart, 2004). In broad terms, however, planningauthorities have perceived natural value in productive rural land-scapes, by virtue of their physical landforms, vegetation, and rela-tive lack of built structures (PCE, 2001). This conceptualizationcorresponds with, and lends support to, popular meanings of rur-al-coastal environments as significant and valuable places, in largepart because of their open, green and ‘undeveloped’ character.

Understandings of naturalness are routinely invoked in effortsto preserve the environmental qualities of local environmentsthreatened by substantial change (Duncan and Duncan, 2001), of-ten as part of a broader attempt to safeguard a sense of place.The term ‘sense of place’ is elusive and difficult to define, but inbroad terms refers to the values, qualities and meanings that con-tribute to place attachment, particularly among locals/insiders, butpotentially among visitors as well (an important consideration atOcean Beach, which has very few residents). Place attachment, inturn, consists in emotional and psychological connections betweenpeople and place (Walker and Ryan, 2008). Contributing factors arenot fixed but ‘‘actively and continuously constructed and recon-structed within individual minds, shared cultures, and social prac-tices” (Williams and Stewart, 1998, p. 19). While some have begunto measure place attachment using psychometric and cartographicapproaches (Brown and Raymond, 2007), we prefer to discern itspresence in narratives.

The affective and social bonds between people and place haveoften been overlooked in planning literature, yet they frequentlymotivate community opposition to development projects (Manzoand Perkins, 2006). While NIMBY-type opposition routinely targetslow-income and non-market housing in urban areas (Pendall,1999), and energy infrastructure in rural areas (Devine-Wright,2009), resistance to high-end housing is by no means unknown.As Pendall (1999, p. 114) observes, such housing often takes placeon privately-owned undeveloped land which existing communitieshave come to appreciate ‘‘for passive enjoyment of views andopenness if not for active use as quasi-parks.”

Devine-Wright (2009) notes that proposals for change fre-quently disrupt or threaten existing attachments to place, as wellas the sense of self associated with the physical and social attri-butes of familiar environments. It follows from this that ‘‘changecan make explicit the bonds between person and location thatare typically latent, resulting in emotional responses such as anx-iety and loss, and a sense of displacement. . .” (Devine-Wright,2009, np). Because these responses can precede physical changein the landscape, they routinely prompt ‘place-protective actions’in the local political sphere. While such actions have often beenpejoratively labelled as NIMBYism, they speak to the strength ofplace attachment, and the enduring social and political significanceof the notion of sense of place.

Arguably, the latter point is not lost on the promoters of newurbanist developments, such as that proposed for Ocean Beach.The language of new urbanism is replete with references to charac-ter, distinctiveness, and sense of place – to be achieved through aset of design protocols and planning principles that take as theirstarting point not the conventional suburb, but the traditionaltown (Jivén and Larkham, 2003). Such determinist claims areinherently problematic. First, in practice, new urbanism may do lit-tle more than add architectural flourish (picket fences, porches,etc.) to auto-dependent suburbia – especially in greenfield sites(Marshall, 2003). Second, at a more conceptual level, the sugges-tion that sense of place can be forged through design representsa misunderstanding (wilful or otherwise) of the term: almost bydefinition, it is a quality that emerges from ‘‘individual and com-munity perception, values and experience” (Jivén and Larkham,2003, p. 74). Although sense of place can be facilitated by ‘‘aestheticdesigns and controls that recognize and reinforce the bioregionalcontext, cultural heritage, and contemporary aspirations of thecommunity” (Gurran et al., 2006, p. 9), to speak of it being imposed,or created, by such designs and controls is to diminish the human-ist origins and intent of the term.

3. Context

For the proposed development at Ocean Beach to proceed,appropriate plan changes and consents must be obtained underthe Resource Management Act 1991 (RMA), New Zealand’s compre-hensive planning and environmental management statute. Whilelinked in part to neoliberal reforms in New Zealand, and an associ-ated impulse to enable development, the RMA is also regulatory,and ‘‘intended to provide power to override private property rights”(Barton, 2007, p. 2). This attempt at ‘balance’ remains politicallycontentious, and indeed is under review in 2009 by the current(conservative) government. As with most planning regimes, somecritics perceive it as impeding development to the detriment of pri-vate property rights, while others see it as protecting those rights tothe detriment of environmental and landscape values (Gleeson,1995).

Section 6 of the RMA identifies a number of matters of nationalimportance. These include the protection of ‘‘outstanding naturalfeatures and landscapes” in general, and ‘‘the natural character ofthe coastal environment” in particular. In both instances, the envi-ronment is to be protected from ‘‘inappropriate subdivision, use anddevelopment.” As Peart (2004, p. 11) notes, this language ‘‘presup-poses that some form of development may be appropriate,”although what shape this may take is not specified in the Act,and is instead ‘‘left to be determined on a case by case basis,” inthe first instance by local councils.

The New Zealand Coastal Policy Statement (NZCPS), a national-le-vel policy document issued by the Department of Conservation,under the RMA, provides some direction in interpreting and imple-menting the Act’s protective provisions in coastal areas. Specifi-cally, subdivision, use and development are to be encouraged ‘‘inareas where the natural character has already been compromised”,and avoided elsewhere (Policy 1.1.1). In addition, ‘‘landscapes, sea-scapes and landforms” are to be protected, with specific mentiongiven to the need to protect ‘‘the collective characteristics whichgive the coastal environment its natural character including wildand scenic areas” (Policy 1.1.3). Such provisions speak to a strongpublic interest in coastal lands, which complicates the exercise ofprivate property rights therein, but by no means abrogates them;subdivision, use and development will continue, but their effectson the coastal environment must be managed.

One of the ways in which local councils give effect to the RMAand NZCPS is through landscape assessments, the results of which

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may be incorporated into formal plans. Pertinent variables in land-scape assessment include scientific factors (geological, topograph-ical, ecological), aesthetic values (including memorability andnaturalness), legibility (the extent to which the landscape ex-presses the processes that formed it), historical associations, andsignificance for Maori (PCE, 2001, p. 11). As noted in the previoussection, the question of whether or not a landscape is natural is of-ten vexed; in planning practice, the answer has often turned inlarge part on the extent to which it is vegetated and ‘uncluttered’by human structures (Peart, 2004). This said, neither the removalof vegetation, nor new construction, is prohibited in landscapesdeemed ‘‘outstanding”; only ‘‘inappropriate” development mustbe prevented. In practice, proposals for development in outstand-ing natural landscapes are likely to receive a heightened level ofpublic and regulatory scrutiny.

Issues of landscape protection and classification are highly per-tinent to discussion of Ocean Beach, given current developmentproposals. In 2005, an intensive 10-day forum (‘charrette’) washeld at the beach to develop a comprehensive plan for the site. Par-ticipants included landowners, council officers, interested mem-bers of the public, and a team of consultants (designers,architects and planners) invited by the HDC and the developmentcompany, who jointly financed the event. The outcome of the char-rette was a detailed master plan for intensive new urbanist-stylesettlement, including 980 residential units (DPZ and Roberts Day,2006). This proposed development – encompassing two ‘villages’and a ‘hamlet’ – was to be concentrated in the southern half ofthe site, adjacent to the current road and bach community. Theland in question consists largely of coastal flats, and somegently-sloping hills (both in pasture); by virtue of its location be-hind the dune system, it is generally landward of coastal hazardlines (thereby reducing the risks posed by, e.g., erosion and sea le-vel rise).

A later report to Council considered this ‘charrette option’ asone of four possibilities for the site. The others were subdivisioninto 20 hectare lots under existing rural zoning, an intermediatedevelopment encompassing several hundred houses, and protec-tion (no subdivision or construction). In May 2007, developers fileda private plan change proposal for Ocean Beach with the HDC. Inbroad terms, it followed the earlier master plan, providing for1062 dwelling units in a development footprint area of 140 hect-ares. Pursuant to the RMA, this proposal was to be assessed in late2008 by commissioners independent of the HDC, in a hearing opento written and oral submissions from the public.

2 Both opponents and advocates of development at Ocean Beach have a tendency toclaim that the region’s ‘silent majority’ (i.e., those not involved in any officialconsultation) is on their side. We are not aware of any independent polling of localresidents on the issue, and this research did not seek to investigate such claims.

4. Study methods

Three principal sources of data are drawn upon: official reportsand proposals, public submissions to Council, and key informantinterviews. Twenty two interviews were conducted over the win-ter of 2007, using a schedule of semi-structured questions. Respon-dents (whose names have been changed here to preserveanonymity) included members of the public who had previouslyexpressed interest in the Ocean Beach proposal (16), elected mem-bers of the HDC (three), and representatives of the regional counciland the development company (one each). Fieldwork at this timealso included attendance at a public meeting of the HDC, and visitsto Ocean Beach, as well as a number of other sites along the coast.Data gathered through these techniques were analyzed themati-cally, following the approach outlined by Braun and Clarke(2006). This involved identifying patterns within the data set,and organizing and describing them in a systematic manner.

Our sampling framework was intended to produce data thatwas illustrative (of points raised in relation to the Ocean Beachlandscape), rather than representative. In recruiting interviewees,

our focus was on those who had already been involved in the plan-ning process – either in their professional capacities, or as inter-ested residents – and had therefore given prior consideration toat least some of the issues raised. While a full spectrum of viewswas heard, most interviewees, and most public submissions, wereopposed to large-scale development.

The level of opposition recorded in our data set reflected thefact that those members of the public who chose to enter formaldebate about the future of Ocean Beach were generally motivatedby a desire to express their opposition to, rather than support for,substantial change.2 Although the legitimacy of local resistance todevelopment is sometimes questioned on the grounds that it is sub-jective, idealistic and/or motivated by self-interest (NIMBYism), localpeople may also have valuable ‘‘contextual intelligence” based upontheir awareness of ‘‘local contexts or settings, including knowledgeof specific characteristics, circumstances, events, and relationships,as well as important understandings of their meaning” (Corburn,2003, pp. 420–421). In the case of Ocean Beach, we were concernedin large part to elucidate local perspectives on landscape assessmentand protection – a concept of enduring interest to geographers, aswell as a statutory imperative in New Zealand (especially vis-à-viscoastal areas).

5. Connections to the landscape

Interviews typically began with a question that asked respon-dents to describe their connections to Ocean Beach, and promptedreflection on the values they attached to the landscape. Thesewere, unsurprisingly, diverse: most valued Ocean Beach for multi-ple reasons, which they described in vivid and detailed ways. Themost common response related in some way to childhood –whether that of the respondent, the respondent’s children, or fu-ture generations. For example, Lee reflected on having ‘‘so many[childhood] memories of playing in the sand dunes,” and notedthat these had led to a life-time ‘‘connection” with the landscape.Similarly, an older respondent noted: ‘‘Well, I’ve lived in Hawke’sBay for 80 years, and as a child I was taken to Ocean Beach bymy parents. . .” (Jonathan). Such family visits to the beach wererepresented as a quintessential aspect of an idealized New Zealandchildhood:

It’s a place I love very, very much now, having been going outthere for 50 years and my children love it too. They’re prob-ably far more conscious of their appreciation of it than I was.The sort of experience that I can have there at Ocean Beach. . . [was] far more common 30, 40, 50 years ago than they arenow in what’s a more urbanized society (Terrence).

Ocean Beach enjoys a very special place in the hearts andminds of those of us who reside in Hawke’s Bay and who,as in my case, have raised children and grandchildren here.. . . Our children all learnt to surf there, and to enjoy thesea and become confident with it. It has been a place forwalks, for childhood exploration, for simply learning whatit is to be a New Zealander and the values of our birthright(written submission #110).

In the foregoing narratives we see the value of Ocean Beach as aplace of childhood adventure and exploration linked to both itsincreasing rarity value (in ‘‘a more urbanized society”), and a par-ticular conceptualization of New Zealand identity (‘‘the values ofour birthright”). These are important fragments in larger stories

3 This refers to the population occupying the nearby cities of Napier (2006population: 55,000) and Hastings (2006 population: 71,000 including outlyingsettlements) (Statistics New Zealand, 2007). Refer also Fig. 1.

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in which time, place, emotional and perception merge in everydaygeographies of coastal experience (see Wylie, 2005). The impor-tance of inter-generational enjoyment of the landscape was elabo-rated on by others, including one family of Ocean Beachlandowners (the second quotation):

My children are seventh generation New Zealanders, sev-enth generation Hawke’s Bay residents. My family have let-ters written by my great grandmother who, as a girl rode herhorse along the beaches, travelling from one place toanother. They read like the present day. It is history alive.What she and her family saw when they rode, walked, pic-nicked and swam at Ocean Beach in the 1890s is almost asit is today. There is so little even my generation can say thatof (written submission #153).

We wish to see only one development on this land. We havea great affinity with this land, given the history of familyownership and stewardship since 1860, and our overridingdesire is to preserve the beach and surrounds as best ascan be done so that as a family we can remain on this prop-erty for the generations to come (written submission #54).

Strong emotional connections to landscape have, thus, beenbuilt up across multiple generations, and reinforced by personalexperience. Here we find support for Corburn’s (2003, p. 421) con-tention that local environmental knowledge is often founded oncumulative knowledge (‘‘years if not generations of experiences”).It is this local knowledge, and an associated sense of ‘‘place-relatedcontinuity”, which is threatened by large projects that disrupt ‘‘thesensory qualities of places, adding unwelcome sights of views,smells and sounds” (Devine-Wright, 2009, np).

A sense of belonging and attachment resulting from enduringconnections was also articulated by Maori respondents whoselinks with the land stretch further back:

Our families have moved up and down here, up and downthis valley. . . .they would have ducked over the hill downthere and gone down to the beach and got their pipis andtheir mussels. They would have moved out there. We’vegot rocks that they would have used for weights in theirboats. You know the history here is living, it’s not somethingyou take out of isolation. . . (Aroha).

Our connection to Ocean Beach is not only physical. Geneal-ogy wise, you know, the right of succession [says] that weare the [indigenous] people . . .

[Historically,] we maintained an outpost at Ocean Beach inorder to maintain the safety and security of the main areawhere we lived at Waimarama. (Wiremu).

While these Maori and New Zealand European perspectives onOcean Beach are not identical – note, for example, the utilitarian, asopposed to recreational, uses of the area emphasized by the Maorirespondents – both evoke the notion of the beach as, to use Maoriterms, turangawaewae [a place to stand], in large part because ofwhakapapa. We suggest that the notion of ‘standing’ has severalpotential meanings here: not only is the beach a site to occupy,use and/or enjoy in a literal sense, it is also a place at which manyrespondents felt they had standing (i.e., the right to be heard), byvirtue in large part of historical connections. For many, it was alsoa place to take a stand against development.

Respondents also mentioned a range of other factors linkingthem to Ocean Beach. Many emphasized its scarcity value as a ‘wil-derness beach’ in close proximity to the region’s population cen-tres. It was increasingly rare, they noted, to find such an

undeveloped (and unpeopled) site within a relatively short drivefrom urban areas:

The beach is very accessible and one can always find a placeto picnic with friends and family which is not interrupted bya seething crowd (written submission #8). I have had occa-sion to enjoy Ocean Beach for over 30 years and have visitedthe place because of its proximity to my homes and for itswild isolated beauty (written submission #41).

That’s a huge gift, you know [to the] 150,000 people inHawke’s Bay – to have that sort of space that close. Youknow, 40 min from me in Napier! Amazing! I go to the beachand just walk. I think that’s great. We need that. Humansneed that. They need that emptiness, they need to be ableto get to places that are remote (Paul).

The argument, then, was that Ocean Beach was not only wild,isolated, beautiful, and needed – it was also accessible to a large,predominantly urban population.3 Understandably, these percep-tions prompted not only regular personal visits, but also trips withvisitors to the region, who were reported to be very impressed withwhat they saw. As Paul put it: ‘‘People that come from New Jersey –you know we’ve got clients that come out here – and you take themout there and they’ll go ‘wow!’” These narratives were accompaniedby the view – implicit or explicit – that residential developmentwould detract from, if not destroy, the scenic and wild values ofOcean Beach.

6. Valuing nature and open views

One key factor informing opinions on the (in)appropriateness ofdevelopment at Ocean Beach was perception of the natural land-scape. Most of those opposed to the developers’ plans viewed thelandscape in a holistic manner, encompassing beach, dunes, foot-hills, and the coastal escarpment to the top of the ridgeline – andargued that housing anywhere in this (expansive) area was unde-sirable. Others, particularly planners and pro-development inter-ests, contended that Ocean Beach was made up of discretelandscape elements – some of which merited protection, whileothers were suited for development.

Informants generally had no hesitation in characterizing OceanBeach as a natural landscape and a wilderness. Specifically, the sitewas described as ‘‘undisturbed nature” (Lee), as ‘‘completelyundeveloped and unspoilt” (Paul), and as ‘‘the only true wildernessbeach [in Hawke’s Bay]. . . . A big wide expansive view devoid ofhuman habitation” (written submission #153). The developer rep-resentative also called the site ‘‘a wilderness beach”, while caution-ing against viewing it as ‘‘undeveloped” given the presence ofbaches and farm buildings (Harry). Such characterizations of anarea dominated by open pastoral hillsides (see Fig. 2) speak to acultural understanding of ‘naturalness’ that encompasses muchmore than unmodified environments (see Duncan and Duncan,2001; Hull et al., 2003). In the New Zealand planning context,‘‘‘natural’, in relation to landscape, does not equate solely with‘pristine’”, but rather exists on ‘‘a spectrum”, and may include‘‘such things as pasture, exotic tree species and wildlife both wildand domestic” (PCE, 2001, p. 11).

New Zealand courts have found that, in the coastal environ-ment, agricultural and silvicultural land uses contribute to naturalquality, as beach users do not have the sense of being overlookedby residences/residents, and views of the landscape are not dis-rupted by the geometric patterns that accompany building (Peart,

Fig. 2. Pastoral backdrop, looking north from the lookout.

4 Gavin refers here to lavish, imposing homes occupying elevated positions inwaterfront areas of Sydney, Australia. Bridge (2001) notes that in Sydney’s notori-ously expensive housing market, harbour views constitute a particularly highly-prized symbolic good.

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2004). Many respondents opposed to development acknowledgedthat humans had modified Ocean Beach, but by no means ‘‘destroy-ed” its wild and natural qualities. What was critical, from their per-spective, was not the changes that had occurred in the past, butrather protection of the current landscape:

[In] my experience over the 50 years of my life . . . OceanBeach is like that [i.e., predominantly pastoral], and alwayshas been. Whereas if I’d been 150 years older, I’d be like:‘‘oh my god, what have they done to Ocean Beach? They’vecut down all the trees! There’s no flaxes anymore!” . . . It’squite natural really, we live for such a short time, we’vegot these blinkers on regarding time. But if somebody comesalong and says ‘‘Oh, I only want to build 1000 houses outthere and it can accommodate it, and it’s not really changingthat much – so why can’t I do it?” they are talking aboutimposing . . . another change on the landscape (Terrence).

For most respondents, the landscape was perceived and valuedin strongly visual terms. Much discussion centred on the dramatic,even imposing, views that can be enjoyed at Ocean Beach. Particu-lar mention was made of a small lookout on the side of the roadimmediately above the beach. For visitors, this lookout providesthe first expansive view of the landscape (see Figs. 2 and 3), oftendescribed with adjectives such as ‘‘breathtaking,” ‘‘amazing,” and‘‘spectacular.” As one interviewee put it: ‘‘I’ve never heard anybodynot do that sort of sharp intake of breath as they come over the hill[to the lookout]” (Paul). Unsurprisingly, one of the more heatedpoints of contention associated with the development proposalconcerns the extent to which new houses, roads and commercialbuildings would be visible to beach-goers, particularly from thelookout. One opinion was expressed in the graffiti shown in Fig. 3.

Concern for protecting existing views was not uni-directional.Many respondents spoke not only about enjoying views of the

coastal environs, but also of being able to walk along the beach(especially in a northerly direction), and being out of view of others:‘‘I set out walking and I go a couple of kilometres, probably two orthree kilometres until I’m clear of signs of human habitation, andthere you go! There’s that bluff at the end” (Terrence). This senseof being free from surveillance distinguished Ocean Beach fromother beaches in Hawke’s Bay: ‘‘at Ocean Beach you sort of get,when you’re walking along the beach and you’re enjoying it, yousort of get that feeling of it being an untouched beach. Whereasat Waimarama all you have to do is glance over your shoulder orback at the shoreline and there are all the houses” (Lee). Anotherrespondent spoke of going surfing at a different beach in the re-gion, and being horrified when he ‘‘looked up to the escarpmenton the right and saw this house, sort of coliseum-like, looking overthe beach and into the surf. So the whole atmosphere kind of chan-ged with this . . . Sydney cliff-top style home sort of, dominatingthe landscape, you know?” (Gavin).4 Such accounts suggest thatcoastal landscapes are degraded when those at beach level can seehouses above them, and be seen from them (Collins and Kearns,2008).

What members of the non-owning public lose in such a scenariois both uninterrupted views of coastal landscapes (‘‘the eye juststops and you’re forced to look in someone’s backyard” – Bonnie),and the associated sense of privacy (‘‘it’s just a sense of, you couldbe being watched, you’re kind of in someone else’s space” – Ame-lia). From this perspective, beach houses are an imposition on thelandscape, which facilitate a private taking of a public view: ‘‘Imean, you look out from your house on the beach across the sand,

Fig. 3. Easterly view from the lookout, with poignant graffiti.

442 D. Collins, R. Kearns / Geoforum 41 (2010) 435–446

across to the sea, you do have an ownership of that line of sight”(Amelia). Such a claim is not as fanciful as it may at first appear.Thompson (2007) argues that a privatist understanding of land-scape-as-property can have powerful effect in coastal areas, withliterally-owned vantage points providing the foundation for pri-vate claims over the appearance and use of vast areas of coastallands and waters. Moreover, such taking is often invited by themarketing of coastal real estate, in which ‘‘the space claimed by. . . advertisements extends far beyond the bounds of the home”to encompass open, high-amenity public spaces (Cheng, 2001, p.216).

These observations about views of the natural landscape, andthe ways in which they can be altered by built structures, led manyrespondents to articulate a desire to protect the whole landscape.From this perspective, Ocean Beach was, at least properly, indivis-ible. A strongly opposed view was put forward by both developersand HDC planners and consultants that, in the words of DPZ andRoberts Day (2006, p. 2.8), ‘‘existing conditions . . . reveal areas thatshould be protected from development and areas that are ideallysuited for development.” Landscape analysis and ‘‘capability map-ping” suggested these ideal areas were in the accessible, and rela-tively flat, southern half of the site.

Julia specifically rejected the contention that the north of thebeach merited a higher level of protection than the more accessiblesouthern area: ‘‘you can’t just say that if you protect the northerndunes that that experience would still be there, because it is holis-tic. . . . It’s a gestalt experience.” Moreover, as one submitter tocouncil noted, ‘‘the developer . . . [makes] the point that he is keento protect areas of exceptional character – but those places of spe-cial character cannot be seen in isolation to the whole beach”(written submission #41). For Bonnie, metaphorically subdividingthe beach into areas of greater and lesser value (as a prelude toliteral subdivision), made no sense: ‘‘I don’t think you can chopup Ocean Beach and say, this is special, that’s not – this is

special, that’s not. The whole thing is a whole.” For many of thoseinterviewed, the beach was perceived as a unitary landscape,which would be damaged by subdivision and development. Thestrength with which this view was held brings into sharp reliefthe question of how Ocean Beach should be classified for statutorypurposes.

7. Landscape classification

A prima facie reading of principles guiding resource manage-ment in New Zealand suggests a high level of protection for land-scape values at Ocean Beach (see Section 3). The current HastingsDistrict Plan recognizes, and provides significant protection for,nine outstanding natural landscapes ‘‘identified as representingthe most significant features in Hastings District” (HDC, 2003, pp.12.2–13). These include nearby Cape Kidnappers (due to its ‘‘visualintegrity” and ‘‘natural character”), but not Ocean Beach. The latteris, however, included among 10 ‘‘significant landscape characterareas” entitled to some protection. It is recognized as significantfor the following reasons:

Largely natural character because of the undeveloped ruralcharacter of the defining hills, and the natural dunes.

Most extensive area of wilderness coast in the southern partof Hastings District.

Picturesque qualities deriving from the bold hills definingthe beach, the grand scale, the open coast.

Dunes have significant habitat value (HDC, 2003, 12.2–15).

Such descriptions of Ocean Beach certainly resonate with muchof the language that key informants used to characterize the land-scape. This said, the ‘‘significant” classification does not facilitatethe level of protection to the existing landscape that most partici-pants in the planning process desire (in many cases, complete pro-

D. Collins, R. Kearns / Geoforum 41 (2010) 435–446 443

tection). An ‘‘outstanding” designation would, in all likelihood, pro-vide more support for such aspirations, and be a better match withthe often superlative-laden descriptions of the Ocean Beach envi-ronment. This incongruity was touched on directly by one submit-ter: ‘‘If we think on it, how many of us would describe to ourvisitors that we have special character views at Ocean Beach – ordo we proudly suggest the outstanding must-see views. . .” (writ-ten submission #127).

Ocean Beach’s designation was a frequent topic of discussion ininterviews. The view of those generally opposed to developmentwas unambiguous – the environment was outstanding in its cur-rent state, and should be officially recognized as such. The follow-ing exchange was representative:

Aroha:

If you go down there, there’s a real special feel aboutthat beach

Interviewer:

The language that the RMA uses is an ‘‘outstandingnatural landscape”

Aroha:

Yes, yes Interviewer: That would be a term or phrase you think should be

applied to Ocean Beach?

Aroha: It should be applied. . .. The thing is that, um,

‘‘outstanding natural landscape” and a thousandhouses doesn’t sit right

The district council representatives also spoke about this issue,which falls within local government jurisdiction. One was happywith the status quo (‘‘we recognize it as significant, but it is not out-standing” – Lesley), while the other two were of the opinion that ahigher level of protection was merited. For Christine, developmentelsewhere underpinned the need for regulatory protection of OceanBeach:

When we had the final presentation to councillors as part ofthe charrette, one of the people running it said: ‘‘look, this isyour chance to do something significant. You could do some-thing of national or even international significance.” And Ilooked at that beach and thought to myself, ‘‘if we want todo something nationally or internationally significant, we’llprotect it totally.” I mean, you can have nice subdivisionup and down the coast, but there won’t be many in theirtotally protected state, which is still my view of what weshould be trying to do at Ocean Beach.

Implicit in Christine’s response was the view that Ocean Beachwas valuable in part because of its increasing rarity value. Charleswas also of the view that relatively rapid and intensive coastaldevelopment of the last decade justified changing the currentdesignation:

Interviewer:

Officially it’s not an outstanding natural landscapein the District Plan. Do you think it should be?

Charles:

Yes, I do. But the one thing you’ve got to rememberis that the District Plan was basically put together in1991 – that’s when it was drafted – and . . . one hasto look at the attitudes of society in ’91 as againstthe attitudes of society in 2007

Interviewer:

And there wasn’t the same pressure on the coastalenvironment in ’91?

Charles:

5 ‘Kiwiana’ is a form of kitsch encompassing cultural products that are consideredunique to, or iconic of, New Zealand.

No, there wasn’t. And I don’t think there was thesame appreciation because of that lack of pressure. Idon’t think there was the same appreciation of whatthose natural features were. They took them forgranted, they didn’t think they’d have to bedefended. . . . I don’t think there’s any doubt thatOcean Beach would now be regarded as anoutstanding natural feature

Charles’ comments served as a useful reminder that the ways inwhich a landscape is perceived, even for statutory purposes, is notnecessarily, or appropriately, fixed. The criteria for assessing land-scape values may change over time, as may perceptions of particu-lar features, and while some elements ‘‘may be able to beobjectively assessed, there will always be a subjective element tolandscape assessment” (PCE, 2001, p. 11). The heightened level ofprotection that accompanies classifying a landscape as ‘‘outstand-ing” was seen by many (although not all) respondents as an appro-priate and helpful step.

8. Built landscapes

The cluster of baches at Ocean Beach (see Fig. 4) is described in theHastings District Plan (HDC, 2003, pp. 12.2–15) as a ‘‘compact and dis-crete” development on ‘‘a small coastal terrace,” and as a valuableexample of the ‘‘single storey, small scale, vernacular bach style.”In other words, it exemplifies the type of bach landscape that becamevalorized in the latter parts of the twentieth century, but is nowincreasingly rare. Respondents generally perceived the communityas part of the landscape, and as consistent with the values they at-tached to the area (e.g., wildness and a limited human presence). In-deed, some spoke about it in glowing terms: ‘‘I love that settlement.To me that’s like Kiwiana and I think it would be neat to preserve it asit is and have other things in style with it” (Julia).5 The baches, then,tended to perceived as authentic – that is, as distinctive and ‘‘well pro-ven forms” which are ‘‘characterized by . . . a working with site and cli-mate, a respect for other people and their buildings, and hence for thecomplete environment” (Relph, 1976, p. 69).

Discussion of the baches invited contrast with the capital-inten-sive development proposed for Ocean Beach. Many respondentsarticulated a sense of unease and impending loss: ‘‘it will alterthe experience of going to the beach totally” (Christine); ‘‘1000houses is a really large number – that is a bustling, busy commu-nity, that’s a lot of traffic, it’s a lot more noise . . . it will changethe whole character of the beach” (Amelia); ‘‘urban developmentwould just change it – it’s wild uncontrolled [nature] and it doesn’tneed to be ‘improved,’ it’s time to turn that development narrativearound” (Julia). Such comments go to the essence of current publicanxiety around beachfront property development in New Zealand:namely, that the process ‘‘signals private gain, but public loss” (Col-lins and Kearns, 2008, p. 2917). The language of loss has also beenobserved in Australia, where recent coastal development has beenperceived to undermine ‘‘the attributes of place (including culturalheritage sites, places for local recreation, contemplation andencounter) that are important to local residents” (Gurran et al.,2006, p. 8).

A contrasting viewpoint was presented by the developer repre-sentative, Harry, who contended that well-designed buildings maybe ‘‘an enhancement in the landscape.” He noted that this was con-trary to much New Zealand thinking, including the NZCPS, whichadopts a negative tone, talking only about ‘‘inappropriate develop-ment.” For Harry, human and natural habitats were potentiallycomplementary. In the Ocean Beach context, he asserted, a newurbanist settlement could be consistent with landscape and envi-ronmental values.

Participants seldom perceived such consistency in existingcoastal settlements in Hawke’s Bay. This was particularly true forWaimarama: while building styles at Waimarama are varied, anddistinct from those proposed at Ocean Beach, development of theformer site was still perceived as sending an important warningabout what could happen at the latter. A significant proportion of

Fig. 4. Dune-top baches framed by cliffs.

444 D. Collins, R. Kearns / Geoforum 41 (2010) 435–446

respondents stated that they now avoided Waimarama, as a resultof increasing development, and the changes accompanying it:

Waimarama’s gone for me, it’s totally gone. We used to havea great time [there]. . . . [My problem is] the houses and thetype of people that live there. Peacock displays up and downthe beach instead of just trying to be part of the originalatmosphere which is why there were attracted to go therein the first place. It seems to happen so frequently: you getthese people, rich buggers, and they see this character-fulllittle beach, they buy the bach, they knock it down, theybuild some monstrosity (Bonnie).

It’s absolute crap. . . . And that’s why we don’t live there anymore. We’ve got a house out there, we’re not living there,we’re living here. I don’t want to be part of that (Aroha).

Why would you allow what’s happened at Waimarama tohappen to Ocean Beach? If anything Ocean Beach is morespectacular – it’s bigger, it’s wider open, and there’s notdevelopment there. . . . We always go to Ocean Beach, wenever go to Waimarama (Paul).

The ongoing suburbanization of Waimarama led a substantialnumber of interviewees to suggest that if additional coastal hous-ing was required close to Napier and Hastings, it should be pro-vided there, rather than Ocean Beach:

With regards to development, if there’s already 300 housesat Waimarama . . . and if [more development there] can beinclusive, with lots of green space, then go for it (Gavin).

Waimarama is already heavily developed with houses, someof them multi-million dollar houses, and there’s lots morespace there for people that want, you know, a subdivision. . ..Those people that want to have a coastal home, go to Waim-

arama. It’s only 10 min more [driving] than going to OceanBeach (Jonathon).

Such suggestions appear to be broadly consistent with thecoastal planning principles articulated in the RMA and NZCPS:namely, the protection of natural features from ‘‘inappropriatesubdivision, use and development”, and the containment of theseactivities in areas where natural character is already compromised.Demand for additional coastal residential and commercial propertyin this part of Hawke’s Bay could, in theory, be met at Waimarama,while Ocean Beach is protected from development.

Such a scenario is rendered problematic by existing propertyrights at Ocean Beach; the site’s rural zoning provides for subdivi-sion with an initial minimum lot size of 20 hectares (and for theconstruction of numerous buildings on each). If the owners wereto take up these rights, it would entail a dispersed and ad hoc formof coastal development – often bemoaned in the literature for itslack of foresight and negative environmental consequences (see,e.g., Gurran et al., 2007; Peart, 2005; Morton et al., 1973) – as wellas a degradation of landscape quality that makes future applica-tions for further development more likely to succeed. As one inter-viewee noted, for advocates of the site’s complete protection, ‘‘itdoesn’t really matter whether it’s 900 houses, or the 350 housesthe Council was talking about the other day, or 20 hectare lots”(Paul). Given the difficulties inherent in reducing existing rights(‘downzoning’), the only way to effect substantive protection ofthe landscape may be for it to transfer into public ownership – aprocess likely to be expensive and contested.

9. Conclusion

Our paper has addressed the landscape values and sense of placeassociated with an under-developed and ‘wild’ stretch of New Zea-land coast, and perceptions of how these will change if planning

D. Collins, R. Kearns / Geoforum 41 (2010) 435–446 445

consent is given to a proposed thousand-dwelling new urbanistdevelopment. In so doing, we have offered an interpretative ac-count based on discursive data accumulated from interviews with‘locals’ and stakeholders, as well as submissions and policy docu-ments. Within the narratives collected, there was broad agreementthat Ocean Beach was a place that offered, and should continue tooffer, a quintessential Hawke’s Bay experience. In many instances,fond youthful memories were shared within multiple generationsof families, both New Zealand European and Maori.

Repeated references to genealogical connections to this area ofcoastline speak to participants’ desire to be understood as being ofthis place. To this extent, like Ireland (1995, p. 9), we can say theforegoing narratives have conveyed ‘‘not only a precise sense ofplace, but also, collectively, make sense of this place” (originalemphasis). The fundamentally geographical concept of landscape(also a legislative concept in New Zealand) had wide purchaseamong those involved in the planning process – not only as some-thing to be admired, but as something that contributed to familial,regional, and even national identity. In this sense we see a connec-tion between the physical landscape, sense of place, and ‘place-in-the-world’ – a connection that is shared across cultures, eventhough understandings may vary between Maori and non-Maori(see Smith, 2004).

Connections to Ocean Beach were further underscored by per-ceptions of the site as valuable by virtue of its accessibility, view-scapes, and wilderness qualities. Respondents were aware thatlarge areas of undeveloped coastline in proximity to populationcentres are an increasingly scarce resource, both in New Zealandand internationally (e.g., Gurran et al., 2007). In combination,appreciation of these qualities prompted some remarkably articu-late and heart-felt expressions of emotional connection to OceanBeach. We follow Manzo and Perkins (2006) in noting that suchexpressions need to be taken seriously in the planning process,precisely because they speak to the meaning and significance ofplace in everyday life. Indeed, as Devine-Wright (2009, np) ob-serves, policy makers and developers considering proposals likelyto disrupt prevailing sense of place should ‘‘expect, rather than de-cry, emotional responses,” precisely because of the social and psy-chological significance of place attachment and identity.Elsewhere, Walker and Ryan (2008) echo this point, saying thatplace attachment can be turned to good effect by planners seekingresidents’ support for land protection strategies.

Significantly, the existing dwellings at Ocean Beach do not ap-pear to detract from feelings of attachment. On the contrary, thecurrent bach settlement is an accepted part of the landscape – avisible reminder of an historical, vernacular approach to buildingbeachfront communities. Local opposition to substantial newdevelopment takes the form of place-protective behaviour (De-vine-Wright, 2009), in that it seeks largely to retain the existingrural-coastal ‘nature,’ rather than revert to earlier landscape forms,with less evidence of cultural modification.

For many observers of the process, development elsewherealong the coast – especially at nearby Waimarama – serves as astark warning about potentially adverse effects that could unfoldat Ocean Beach. The feared effects are in large part aesthetic. In-deed, we see clear parallels with Duncan and Duncan’s (2001, p.405) consideration of landscape preservation in Bedford, New York,where aesthetic environmental values (‘‘sometimes it is principallythe ‘look of the land’ that needs to be maintained”) have trumpedpressures for urban development and intensification. However, atOcean Beach, social transformation – via an influx of wealthy (sec-ond) home owners, and elitist attitudes – is also feared.

We contend that achieving protection of landscapes such asOcean Beach may require controls that go against the grain of cur-rent trends in coastal New Zealand. Following Peart (2005, p. 44),we suggest that maintaining the integrity of otherwise undeveloped

parts of the coast may require ‘‘[l]arger lot sizes, lower buildingheights, greater setbacks from boundaries, controls on earthworksand tree protection.” Without such management tools, develop-ment may threaten not only to ‘‘overwhelm the landscape” (Essexand Brown, 1997, p. 259), but also to undermine the fundamentalqualities that account for place attachment, and evoke that perva-sive, yet nuanced and at times at times elusive, concept of ‘senseof place.’ To this extent, the current controversy at Ocean Beach rep-resents, in microcosm, a fundamental tension over the meaning ofthe coast in New Zealand. For some, the open coast is an open setof development opportunities. For others, the same openness isthe intrinsic value in itself. In endorsing the latter viewpoint, oneparticipant spoke with eloquence and economy, describing OceanBeach as ‘‘a gestalt experience,” thus expressing the holistic andaffective dimensions of this contested coastal landscape.

Acknowledgements

This research was supported by a University of Auckland post-doctoral fellowship and by a grant from the BRCSS Network (NZ).Tara Coleman worked as a research assistant on the project. Con-siderable gratitude is extended to those Hawke’s Bay residentswho volunteered their time and enthusiasm to assist with this re-search, from its earliest days through to completion.

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