Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 1

1
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning by
People for People: an Introduction
Gerard Linden and Henk Voogd

What is Environmental and Infrastructure Planning (EIP) and why does EIP
deserve a separate position under the wide umbrella of spatial planning and
related scientific disciplines? What issues does EIP address, what challenges
does EIP face and what methodology and EIP specific instruments are
available to tackle current problems and to avoid future ones? What is EIP
and what makes it unique? This book attempts to provide answers to these
questions.
EIP is essentially a process for assisting the community, both public
and private, in making decisions about infrastructure development, land use
and related social and economic activities for the conservation and
sustainable development and management of its resources. EIP is concerned
with the integration of both policy development and implementation and in
doing so involves strategic decision-making in the context of political,
administrative and legislative frameworks and implementation by statutory
processes and other means. The goal of EIP is to gain a coherent
understanding of the interrelationships between components of the spatial
system in order to develop the potential of integrally planned and designed
infrastructure systems for dealing more effectively with the critical problems
confronting our regions and cities.
EIP focuses on the tensions between planning and constructing
artefacts such as transportation infrastructure and their environmental and
societal repercussions. EIP therefore bridges the gap between social science-
based spatial planning and civil engineering-oriented planning for, and
implementation of, infrastructure. It is the combination of gaining
understanding of spatial interrelationships and the explicit link to
2 Gerard Linden and Henk Voogd

implementation that sets Environmental and Infrastructure Planning apart

from other spatial planning-oriented disciplines. Perspectives on spatial
planning in general are very much dependent on prevailing societal
conditions such as the role of the public sector, ideas on central versus
decentralized planning authority, political support for different concepts of
mobility and the dominant spatial planning culture in an historical
perspective. Existing planning legislation, the structured hierarchy of
planning authorities and related planning and decision-making procedures,
citizen participation and communication with society at large, reflect
prevailing societal beliefs on fairness, responsibilities and social justice. EIP
has to operate within this context with the objective of striking a balance
between competing interests while at the same time allowing for changing
societal conditions.
This description of EIP is taken from Chapter 2, in which Ike et al.
focus on issues of and in EIP. The object of EIP is illustrated with the help
of the three layers of the Environmental Layer Concept (ELC) – the Ground
Layer, the Infrastructure Layer and the Occupancy Layer. The Ground
Layer represents the natural conditions of the subsoil, such as soil types,
water tables, altitude and geological characteristics which may be fixed or
subject to natural changes. The Infrastructure Layer is composed of
predominantly man-made structures such as transport infrastructure,
pipelines and cable networks which may be visible or hidden, while the
Occupancy Layer comprises the physical pattern and artefacts as a result of
human activities. The ELC provides a framework used to illustrate the
application area of EIP and its characteristics.
The notion that ‘Planning is done by people for people’ makes
identification of actors who have a stake in a proposed project an important
element in each and every EIP activity. An actor is a person, group or
organization with common interests and /or objectives. The current tendency
towards a more comprehensive style of planning aimed at consensus
requires early identification of stakeholders and their relative importance for
the planning process. Meaningful involvement of the stakeholders and
communication with them is made difficult and may result in costly and
frustrating delays in the project if no such analysis is made. The recognition
of the importance of participation, communication and consensus has
introduced new approaches to planning. Participation, consensus and
communication are the key words and, with some changes in perspective
and application area, will remain so throughout the book. The recognition of
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 3

the presence of a multitude of stakeholders, different planning procedures

and different interests implies that attention must be paid to the different
ways of arriving at consensus.

The next four chapters elaborate these issues by examining different

theoretical and practical aspects. Woltjer elaborates the concept of
consensus planning in infrastructure and environmental development in
Chapter 3, providing examples from Dutch planning practice. He puts
forward the view that there are three basic theoretical perspectives from
which consensus planning can be viewed and that these are fundamental to
understanding its function. The first of these three perspectives is the
different types of consensus processes that might be taking place. The
second is the various models of democracy that are underpinning consensus
planning practice, and the third, the assortment of typologies that are
available for understanding participation.
The need to deviate from a top-down environmental policy system to
a local area-specific approach to urban environmental problems is outlined
by De Roo in Chapter 4. The Netherlands can be seen as one of the
frontrunners in designing a generic system for environmental standards
issued by the national government and to be implemented at the local level.
Being one of the frontrunners, negative side effects, such as the so-called
environmental dilemmas of the compact city, are also well known. The clash
between environmental policy and spatial development has been paid
particular attention during the last decade due to rigid environmental
legislation. This attention resulted in proposals that are intended to make
environmental policy and spatial planning more coherent and to help solve
the dilemmas of the compact city while upholding an acceptable ‘quality of
life’ at the local level. These proposals are not without criticism. One of the
consequences would be the decentralization of policy with regard to
environmental health and hygiene, allowing local authorities to take
responsibility and deviate from current legislation. De Roo also concludes
that a collaborative approach is essential for dealing with environmental
dilemmas.
Consensus building is also highly significant when safeguarding
water interests in Dutch land-use planning, as is discussed in Chapter 5 by
Schwartz and Voogd. They show that water management cannot be carried
out without a related land-use policy and vice versa. Modern land-use plans
are generally the product of a complex deliberation process that involves
4 Gerard Linden and Henk Voogd

both internal consensus building by various municipal authorities and

external consensus building with other public and private interest groups.
This process is usually focussed on parties with a stake in the plan and the
power to obstruct or delay its implementation. It is assumed in
communicative planning theory that all these interests are balanced in
discourses, i.e. a discussion process, resulting in socially acceptable
outcomes. In practice, however, interest groups have different powers and
possibilities for influencing the result. Strong economic interests can then
easily dominate weaker interests, for example those of national heritage or
environmental values. It is for this reason that safeguards for the public
interest have been added to the legal rules for the planning process, such as
the obligation to undertake an Environmental Impact Assessment (EIA) for
proposals of infrastructure projects beyond a certain size. Chapter 5 shows
that since the mid-1990s, a similar development has been taking place in
Dutch planning with respect to safeguarding water interests, for example to
prevent flooding.
Linden directs attention to the coastal zone and its corresponding
area-specific problems in Chapter 6. The coastal zone requires thorough
communication as the number and diversity of stakeholders in combination
with the wide variety of environmental problems in an often trans-boundary
situation are staggering. Coastal ecosystems are very vulnerable and highly
productive. Healthy coastal wetlands provide a buffer against the impacts of
climate change and rising sea levels and are thus of immediate interest to the
safety of people living in low-lying areas. The shallow coast waters are the
nurseries for most of marine life including commercial fish and shellfish
stocks and are thus of direct interest to man. As well as its ecological
significance, the coastal zone also offers space, food, water, natural
resources, energy and recreation to a highly diverse user community. More
than half of the world’s population currently lives in a coastal zone and
depends directly on coastal resources for both agriculture and seafood.
Coastal problems may be linked to the use of these resources and activities
such as fisheries, non-renewable extraction of resources, tourism, agriculture
and aquaculture, residential and commercial real estate development, marine
transportation, military activities, nature conservation and so on. The
combination of the above requires an approach with an emphasis on conflict
resolution and consensus building that differs from traditional land-use
planning. Development of the coastal zone should obviously be based upon
a proper understanding of the processes in the coastal zone and its
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 5

stakeholders, supported by a sound environmental management approach

and socioeconomic and spatial planning skills to obtain an acceptable
balance between short-term benefits and long-term assets. The combined
activity of these approaches is termed Integrated Coastal Zone Management
(ICZM) and stands for a continuous process that guides rather than dictates
approaches to a broad range of social and environmental issues in order to
attain sustainable development in the coastal area.
The next two chapters introduce the transboundary character of
many Dutch spatial planning problems and the time dimension of the man-
made environment respectively. The Netherlands, due to its size and its
physical geographical conditions, is part of a larger environmental system
that transcends its national boundaries. Environmental problems that occur
in the Netherlands may have their origin anywhere in the Rhine watershed
area that covers a large part of Western Europe. The existing man-made
environment is a result of construction activities that are sometimes many
centuries old. This heritage has to be taken into account when planning for
the future, but only after questioning its value and meaning for future
generations.
Aspects of transboundary planning are illustrated by the example of
cross-border planning in the Rhine Delta Area. The title of Chapter 6,
‘Borders never die, they just fade away’ aptly describes the influence of
upcoming cross-border networks that address transboundary problems. De
Vries shows that the principle aim of cross-border networks is to diminish
the influence of the border on the operation of the network participants.
Although the activities of such networks may be rather varied, spatial
planning practice occupies a central position. Tasks addressed by these
networks deal not only with present problems, but also create the conditions
so that cross-border issues may be dealt with effectively when they arise. As
a result building cross-border networks becomes a process of institution
building. The importance of the concept of institution building to allow
effective and efficient cross-border co-operation is elaborated. Capacity
building is used as the leading principle to analyse prevailing conditions in
the Rhine-Scheldt Delta and to arrive at conclusions with respect to
applications in border regions. Construction of the spatial development
perspective for the Rhine-Scheldt Delta functions as a reference for the
discussion at the end of the chapter.
Policies for planning the past are the subject of Chapter 8. It is
asserted by Ashworth that environmental planners are confronted by the
6 Gerard Linden and Henk Voogd

consequences of the contemporary valuation of historicity and the decision to

preserve relict aspects of the past. Current attitudes towards the past as
transmitted through memory, history and physical artefacts need to be
understood as a preliminary to the planning and management of the past for
various contemporary purposes. Planning practice tends to focus on questions
such as ‘how should it be done, how is it done and how can it be done better’.
The ‘why’ questions are often left to political decision-makers or taken for
granted. It is emphasised that answering the ‘how’ questions is directly
dependent on the ‘why’ questions. Ashworth explains the origins, nature and
consequences of the preservation, conservation and heritage paradigms. He
then describes how these have been applied in the Netherlands, within its
wider Western European context, and discusses the issues that resulted.
A further important issue of EIP is planning intelligence or the
collection and analysis of information in support of decision-making in
spatial planning. The case study of De Vries in Chapter 7 showed that an
interactive planning process strongly needs substantive input of planners:
“The planning team found it difficult to provide sufficient content to guide
the discussion, relying too much on the expectation that this would simply
arise out of the meetings of stakeholders” (De Vries, this volume, 107). The
following five chapters are therefore devoted to examples of approaches to
planning intelligence, such as forecasting in planning, transportation
modelling, formal evaluation in environmental and infrastructure planning,
environmental impact assessment for transport infrastructure projects and,
finally, transport planning and policy.
Planning, according to the opening sentence of Ike and Voogd in
Chapter 9, concerns a deliberate set of actions for improving future qualities
that would otherwise not be realized within a given time. Forecasting
encompasses quantitative predictions of future developments as well as
qualitative explorations of possible futures. As the future is a key concept in
planning, forecasting is vital to all planning activities. Chapter 9 begins with
a discussion of qualitative forecasting by describing a number of methods
that depend on judgements made by stakeholders, experts or other interested
parties to arrive at forecasts. Two qualitative approaches are illuminated, the
Delphi and scenario methods respectively. Quantitative forecasting is
illustrated with a brief overview of time series methods. Both qualitative and
quantitative methods are illustrated by an example. The role and relative
importance of forecasting methods is discussed at the end of the chapter.
The problem of error propagation, and hence inaccuracies, in the results of
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 7

forecasting methods is briefly introduced to emphasize their main

significance as tools in support of reaching organizational goals.
A very specific and relatively successful area of forecasting
applications is transportation planning. Bouwman and Linden introduce
transportation modelling, its history and present use in Chapter 10. Since the
mid-1950s, mathematical computer-based modelling has provided a basis
for analysing the complex spatial interaction patterns resulting from the
juxtaposition of human activities and their interlinking transportation
networks.
Models serve different purposes. They provide insights into complex
spatial interactions, some of which might otherwise have been overlooked.
Building a model contributes to the understanding of the problem since
models have to fit local conditions. The modelling process identifies and
illuminates the most important explanatory variables of transport flows.
Furthermore, models can be instrumental in achieving consensus in the
complex political negotiation process between the separate public and
private stakeholders involved. When used transparently, models provide a
relatively objective basis for decisions and can hence also be of use when
communicating the effects of proposed investments to the public, although
this has not remained entirely undisputed of late.
The history of transport models began midway through the twentieth
century in the USA and is associated with the rising use of the car for
passenger transport. The dramatic growth in the number of cars after the
Second World War, and the resulting public pressure for adequate road
capacity in combination with restricted funds, resulted in a quest for
methods to objectively assess priorities in road building schemes.
Investments in transportation, whether this is in new roads, railways or
improved bus services, always have an impact on the environment and on
large numbers of individuals and involve large amounts of money. Planning
for transportation investments requires appropriate forecasting methods
because of the social, environmental and financial implications involved.
Bouwman and Linden elaborate on the fundamentals of the approach
developed in the mid-1950s. They discuss new approaches developed since
then and draw attention to uncertainties in model outcomes. Their
conclusion is that although traditional approaches still show their value, in
practice the results should be used with caution in light of the expectations
of the model.
8 Gerard Linden and Henk Voogd

Results from forecasting, whether qualitative or quantitative, should

be evaluated to clarify the consequences of adopting different choices in
planning processes. Chapter 11 deals with what Voogd terms ‘formal
evaluation’ in environmental and infrastructure planning, i.e. evaluation by
means of systematic analytical methods such as cost-benefit analysis or
multi-criteria evaluation. This chapter provides an overview of some basic
principles. The improvement of the ex-ante evaluation methodology in
planning is then explained with the help of Dutch examples as being largely
the result of a learning process. A plea is made to change the existing
paradigm, in line with the growing importance given to planning approaches
that value consensus and communication. Instead of preparing information
about possible alternatives, which may already have been selected, the
involvement of stakeholders in the evaluation process should be actively
sought. According to Voogd, the basic structure of a formal evaluation
method should be transparent, otherwise it will never be applied in practice.
Arts elaborates the concept of ‘Environmental Impact Assessment
(EIA) for Transport Infrastructure Projects’ in Chapter 12. EIA can be seen
as a specific form of evaluation in which the environmental aspect is given
predominance. EIA also has a long history dating from the early 1970s.
Attention is paid to the history of EIA, its worldwide acceptance as a
planning tool and to the basics of EIA. Examples are taken from the
Netherlands and are related to infrastructure planning. Different
developments in thinking about EIA and different approaches are explored
and put into perspective at the end of the chapter, where future directions of
EIA for transport planning are discussed. The key words for improvement
are integration and co-ordination. Integration encompasses the content, the
process, temporal and spatial aspects and integration of interests.
Apart from the environment as a whole, another area in which
forecasting and evaluation play an important role is transport planning and
policy. Transport planning focuses among other things on diminishing the
demand for traffic, the time spent on travelling, persuading people to change
from the car to other more environmentally friendly modes of transport,
mitigating existing negative impacts and avoiding future problems.
Policymakers can achieve such goals with different strategies. Bouwman
and Linden describe both demand and supply strategies in Chapter 13 and
distinguish different levels of decision-making in transportation that can be
used by policymakers. Their conclusion is that mobility can be influenced in
the direction of prevailing transportation policy goals. Careful attention
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 9

should be paid to the characteristics of the instruments available at the

separate levels of authority.
The last chapter, 14, discusses the planning of business sites.
Pellenbarg and Voogd distinguish two different levels – the strategic level
and the operational level. The strategic level elaborates on approaches by
the Dutch national and regional authorities to regulating business sites. The
operational level concerns the approaches followed by local authorities and
private parties. Planning of business sites is strongly related to the notion of
location and local land-use planning. Where regional and national
authorities have concrete plans about the location of economic activities,
these plans have to be taken as serious guidelines for planning business
sites. On the other hand, local ideas about how to manage a business site
also have their impact. The local land-use plan is legally binding in the
Netherlands and thus of direct importance to planning for business sites.
This chapter elaborates on the history of planning for business sites within
the Dutch planning context. The direct link to land-use planning and its
developments is discussed. Concepts that began to gain political credence in
the 1990s, such as sustainability, are being replaced by that of careful land
use, indicating a close link between prevailing political ideas and planning
practice. The tension between local land-use plans and governmental
policies is discussed with Park Management as a platform for discussion.

This introduction started with questions such as what is Environmental and

Infrastructure Planning (EIP) and why does EIP deserve a separate position
under the wide umbrella of spatial planning and related scientific
disciplines? What issues does EIP address, what challenges does EIP face
and what methodology and EIP-specific instruments are available to tackle
current problems and to avoid future ones?
This book provides possible answers to the above questions by
describing, elaborating and discussing various aspects of EIP, centred
around the acknowledged necessity for the provision for participation,
communication and consensus in planning processes. This central theme
runs through all the contributions to this book. EIP planning methodology
encompasses not only theoretical discourses but also adapted instruments
and supporting technology, such as Geographical Information Systems
(GIS) and Spatial Planning Support Systems (SPSS). Although
developments in GIS tools and related technology such as visualization,
10 Gerard Linden and Henk Voogd

mapping and web-based planning are promising, in the end EIP is and will
remain a social and political process.
The conclusion of the book is in line with modern planning theory
that communication between stakeholders is a conditio sine qua non for
effective and efficient planning in our present society. Any planner, whether
preparing infrastructure projects such as airports, railroads and highways, or
setting out a new policy regarding sustainable building, environmental
protection areas, or noise abatement, has at times to face communication
with other policymakers, with property developers, societal pressure groups,
or citizens. Communication is important in our current society, considering
the fact that no policy can be seriously set out, and no planning project can
be implemented without the collaboration of others. Government agencies
need other government agencies to make sure that their plans will be carried
through, and they need societal groups and citizens to support and make use
of their plans. In other words, policy actors (people and organizations) are
interdependent. They can only function if to some degree they seek the
participation of each other, and make sure that consensus is reached on the
topics that bind them together.
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 11

2
Issues in Environmental and Infrastructure Planning

Gerard Linden, Paul Ike and Henk Voogd

1 Introduction

Planning is both a rational as well as a creative and communicative

discipline. It is essentially about shaping the future and managing urban
and rural change in a way that benefits current and future generations. It
can, for example, make a significant contribution to the achievement of
rational goals such as sustainable development or equitable distribution
of resources.
The British Royal Town Planning Institute defines spatial
planning as a process of critical thinking about space and place as the
basis for action and intervention (RTPI, 2003, p.21). This definition
suggests that planning is an intellectual process. According to the RTPI,
planning is more than a fusion of ‘science and art’, and more than just
rule-based processes: ‘It must be informal as well as formal, qualitative
as well as quantitative, focused on the achieving of outcomes not just
procedures’ (RTPI, 2003, p.21). Apart from being an intellectual
process, spatial planning is also a social, political and organisational
process. It plays a central role in issues such as urban and rural
regeneration, resolving transport problems, designing better towns and
cities and protecting and enhancing the environment. It is essentially a
process for assisting the community in making decisions about land use
and related social and economic activities for the conservation,
sustainable development and management of land and its resources.
Environmental and infrastructure planning (EIP) is a specialist
area of spatial planning. It focuses on the built fabric of public spaces,
12 Paul Ike, Gerard Linden and Henk Voogd

institutions, facilities and services that together constitute

‘infrastructure’, that shape and sustain daily life in an environmentally
friendly way. The purpose of EIP is to improve the living environment
through integrated environmental management and the delivery of
appropriate infrastructure technologies. This is done by research and
dissemination of best practices. Consequently, EIP focuses on the natural
and physical environment and on the material infrastructure within this
environment that supports human activity. This infrastructure can be
seen as a product of interacting physical and spatial systems. One of the
purposes of EIP is to develop operational strategies that integrate the
broadest possible range of policies, methods and actions for improving
human settlements, and to resolve in environmental terms the larger
social and political issues that affect the quality of life in our
communities.

2 The Environmental Layer Concept

The object of environmental and infrastructure planning will be

illustrated by means of the layer approach, which was introduced in the
Fifth Policy Document on Spatial Planning (VROM, 2001). We have
modified this approach slightly and refer to it as the Environmental
Layer Concept (ELC) (see Figure 1).

Figure 1. Illustration of Environmental Layer Concept

Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 13

The ELC is a conceptual representation of a spatial-environmental

system consisting of three different layers. The first layer is the ground
layer, in which the natural conditions of the (sub)soil are fixed. For the
Netherlands, water systems, altitude, soil types and geological
characteristics are important determinants in this layer. The next layer is
the infrastructure layer, which is composed of various networks that
constitute the material infrastructure. This layer consists of visible and
invisible elements such as roads, railways, waterways, aviation routes,
harbours, airports, transfer points, pipelines and digital networks. The
third and final layer of the ELC is the occupancy layer, which comprises
the physical pattern resulting from the way in which mankind uses the
ground layer and networks. In other words, it is the physical reflection of
human activities such as housing, working and recreation.
In reality, an ELC is dynamic. Its layers are subject to change.
Each layer changes at a different pace and with a different impact. The
changes are the result of natural processes and human actions. The
dynamics are within and among the different layers. Natural and/or
human factors can drive these processes.
2.1 The Ground Layer

Soil types in the ground layer have influenced occupancy patterns for
centuries. In the past, they determined the type of agriculture, and plant
and animal life. Even today, they can influence decision-making.
The geological characteristics of the subsoil are also important for
mining activities, such as:
• The extraction of minerals (i.e. sand, gravel, clay) for the
building industry. As illustrated by Ike (1998, 1999); Ike &
Woltjer (1996), Van der Moolen et al., (1998), mineral planning
can be very complicated because many conflicting interests are
involved and the surface mining of specific minerals, such as
gravel and industrial sand, is concentrated in a limited
geographical area.
• Coal mining was very important in the past in the Dutch province
of Limburg. The exploitation of these carboniferous coal beds up
to a depth of 900 m was stopped in 1974 due to declining
economic feasibility.
• The production of natural gas and modest amounts of oil takes
place in the north of the Netherlands. The discovery of natural
gas played an important role in the decision to close the
unprofitable coalmines of Limburg.
14 Paul Ike, Gerard Linden and Henk Voogd

• Salt mining takes place in the east and north-east of the

Netherlands.

The ground layer is important not only for mining but also, more
recently, for deep subsurface usage (cf. NIAG-TNO, 2003):
• Storage of natural gas in old oil and gas fields. The current
storage techniques foresee the storage under supercritical
conditions requiring storage facilities to be sited below a depth of
800 m. The storage of natural gas is an interesting option for
facilitating peak shaving, allowing capacity to be adapted to the
seasonal demand for gas, and offering the possibility to benefit
from cheap imports. Advantages of subsurface storage in
comparison to storage at the surface are that it is safer and often
cheaper, less surface area is used, and it contributes to landscape
conservation. The Netherlands currently has subsurface gas-
storage facilities in Alkmaar (peak shaving), and in Grijpskerk
and Langelo (seasonal fluctuations).
• Disposal of highly toxic chemical and radioactive wastes in solid
form. This waste requires optimum insulation and must be stored
in such a way that can be retrieved at a later date if a more
acceptable means of storage or reuse is developed. A storage
solution must enable retrieval of the waste at a future date and
must be realised at a depth of 500 - 1000 m below the land
surface, so that it cannot be affected by glaciation.

Water is another component of the ground layer that plays an important

role in EIP because it influences the infrastructure and occupancy layers.
Water may also cause harm in the event of flooding. In river basins,
flooding is usually the result of heavy rainfall or snow melting in a
relatively short period, both leading to the discharge of substantial
volumes of river water. In coastal regions, flooding is caused by heavy
storms and high tides. In both cases, the history of any country shows
that technical measures have been taken to decrease the risk of flooding:
the construction of dikes, dams, movable barriers, houses on stakes and
boats, can be seen throughout the world. The availability of water for
drinking, farming, production and navigation is a precondition for spatial
development. At the same time, human activities in the occupancy layer
of the ELC can affect water resources in many ways (e.g. see Heathcote,
1998): falling groundwater levels due to over-exploitation, water
pollution from industrial, communal and various other sources such as
farming, changes in flow direction and speed due to the construction of
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 15

infrastructure and built-up areas. All these factors can affect the
resources used by humans and ecosystems. Without a clear integrated
planning system, spatial development can be unattractive and, arguably,
unsustainable (Heathcote, 1998, 56). Although urban sewer systems
override natural drainage patterns, it is always wise to assess the natural
situation of the ground layer at the beginning of a development project.
In order to protect water resources, the impact of spatial development
must be assessed (see also Chapter 5). In most countries, water
management is assigned to one or more public authorities that are
responsible for protecting water resources, flood defences, drinking
water supply, and wastewater collection and treatment.
2.2 The Infrastructure Layer

In the infrastructure layer, EIP focuses on policy coherence with regard

to traffic and transport systems. Freight transport has long been one of
the Netherlands’ main activities, thanks to its key position in the
European distribution network. Road transport has been by far the most
important mode of freight transportation. Pipelines are also very
important, from sewer systems to pipes for the transport of oil, gas,
chemicals or other industrial products. In addition, there are many
subterranean cables carrying electricity and, more recently,
communication channels.

Figure 2.
ICT includes urban infrastructure
16 Paul Ike, Gerard Linden and Henk Voogd

This increases the probability of a disaster and is seen as a challenge

to improve the planning of underground infrastructure. There is a high
safety risk that, for example, a dragline damages one of the many pipes
transporting gas and oil, especially in urban areas. Accidents may have
serious consequences, including:
• Economic damage: production processes halted, breakdown of
coolers, and missed orders
• Environmental damage: because oil or chemicals may seep into
the soil and purification and sewage-treatment plants may fail to
work
• Social damage: all manner of public and private organisations, as
well as individuals, may be seriously hampered in their activities.
Obviously, repairing the damage may be time-consuming and costly if
its precise location is not known.

Country 1970 1980 1990 2000 1970=100

Belgium 488 1,203 1,631 1,702 349
Denmark 184 516 601 922 501
Germany 6,061 9,225 10,809 11,712 193
Greece 11 91 190 707 642
Spain 387 2,008 4,693 9,049 234
France 1,553 4,862 6,824 9,766 629
Ireland 0 0 26 103 8
Italy 3,913 5,900 6,193 6,478 165
Luxemburg 7 44 78 115 1642
Netherlands 1,209 1,780 2,092 2,289 189
Austria 478 938 1,445 1,633 341
Portugal 66 132 316 1,482 2245
Finland 108 204 225 549 508
Sweden 403 850 939 1,506 374
United Kingdom 1,183 2,683 3,180 39,242 3317
EU total 16,051 30,454 39,242 51,559 321
Source: Eurostat
Table 1. Increase in the length of motorways in the European Union
between 1970 and 2000

Clearly, a transport system is also based on surface infrastructure such as

railways, roads, parking facilities, etc. This type of infrastructure has
expanded considerably in recent decades (see also Chapter 13). By way
of illustration, Table 1 shows the length of motorways, measured in
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 17

kilometres, over a number of years. It shows that the length of

motorways in Europe increased by 321% between 1970 and 2000.
Car ownership has risen dramatically since the 1970s. Measures
to reduce road congestion are being considered and partially
implemented to guarantee access to commercial centres. For example, in
the Netherlands, access to the Randstad conurbation (Amsterdam, The
Hague, Rotterdam) is being improved by building new infrastructure at
bottleneck locations. Efforts are also being made to reduce car use by
encouraging car-sharing, cycling, walking, telecommuting and, in
particular, by promoting public transport. For short distances, the bicycle
is still the most popular means of transport. In many areas, particularly
urban areas, special bicycle paths have been planned and implemented.
2.3 The Occupancy Layer

In recent decades, massive changes have taken place in the size and
nature of human settlements (see e.g. Champion and Hugo, 2003). Urban
developments clearly provide an economic impetus, as illustrated in
Figure 3. This interesting graph shows that annual construction in the
United States is strongly influenced by fluctuations in the Gross
Domestic Product (GDP). As a consequence of these construction
activities, separate cities and towns have merged into extensive
conurbations. The planning models for these developments is also
known as growth management (Stein, 1993). The key elements of
growth management are summarised as the nine C’s: comprehensive
planning, consistency, co-ordination, co-operation, collaboration,
containment, conversion, concurrency and carrots (see APA, 2002).
These are the keywords used in any modern land-use planning
document.
18 Paul Ike, Gerard Linden and Henk Voogd

Source: US Dept. of Commerce

Figure 3. Annual construction as percentage of GDP in the USA

Developing countries and industrialised countries share certain problems

in the occupancy layer, but also differ widely. Problems such as
inadequate drinking water and sanitation, bad housing conditions, lack of
refuse collection and the presence of disease factors are often referred to
as the ‘brown agenda’. They are essentially problems of developing
countries caused by human activity that has a direct impact on human
health. The ‘grey agenda’ refers mainly to the overburdening of the local
ecosystem due to the emission of gases, the pollution of water resources,
inadequate waste management, etc. These problems occur mostly at the
urban level all over the world. Finally, there is a ‘green agenda’, which
mainly addresses nature conservation and ecological properties. It relates
to the preservation of bio-diversity, but also includes abiotic issues such
as global warming, ozone layer depletion, depletion of natural resources,
etc.
In the Netherlands, there is growing emphasis on the concept of
the ‘ecological city’ (e.g. Bus and Voogd, 1998). A considerable number
of neighbourhoods have been developed in recent years based on the
Ecopolis framework of Tjallingii (1995). This comprises three
complementary focuses on the city: the responsible city, the living city
and the participating city.
The responsible city relates to the responsible management of
flows into and out of the city. The main problem addressed here is the
fact that problems are deflected onto future generations and other places.
Modern industrial society has brought not only greater flows of people
and information, but also greater flows of energy, materials, traffic and
water. Disequilibrium in incoming and outgoing urban flows leads to
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 19

problems elsewhere: acidification, eutrophication, desiccation, erosion,

global warming, etc. Future generations will be exposed to unacceptable
risks, and plants and animals are becoming extinct or are at risk of
becoming so. The flows into and out of a city (or a neighbourhood or
building) can be simplified into an Ecodevice model (cf. Girardet, 1992),
a box with incoming and outgoing flows. It is important to reduce linear
flows into and out of the city, and work towards closed cycles or a
circular urban metabolism. In this context, ‘sustainability criteria’ can be
formulated: on the ‘IN’ side, the priority is to avoid unnecessary use (of
energy, materials, etc.). If this is not possible, renewable resources such
as biomass, solar energy, etc., should be considered. If it is not possible
to avoid the use of non-renewable resources such as minerals and fossil
fuels, the priority is to prevent wastage and use them as efficiently as
possible. On the ‘OUT’ side, the priority is also to avoid wastage: it is
better not to buy or use a product or material unless it is essential. If this
is unavoidable, we should at least try to keep the product or material
within the production cycle, so that it is not ‘lost’ to the environment,
where it might cause damage. Finally, if we cannot avoid all forms of
waste, we should at least process them using clean technologies so that
they do not damage the environment or human health.
The second focus of the Ecopolis model, the living city, relates to
the sustainable management of urban areas and the creation of a healthy
living environment. A problem in this context is the levelling of building
sites, which has caused a lot of damage to local ecosystems in the past,
and continues to do so. Making optimum use of local ecological
potential is an important factor in solving these problems. A city, a
neighbourhood or building should not be simply ‘pasted’ into the
environment, but carefully integrated. In developing countries and many
countries of Central and Eastern Europe, where living conditions are still
far below the levels in industrialized countries, key issues include
drinking water, wastewater evacuation, collection of solid waste, public
transport, healthy housing, green areas, etc.
The third focus is the participating city, whereby the various
urban actors play an active role in urban management. Only then will it
be possible to make full use of the enormous local resource potential
(human and financial). A participating city should stimulate all actors to
fulfil their specific responsibilities in the process of city management.
Therefore it will also be necessary to raise their awareness of
environmental and sustainability issues. In the next section we will
discuss this important focal point.
20 Paul Ike, Gerard Linden and Henk Voogd

Changes in urban and rural areas, and policies on housing, working and
recreation are dependent on changes in the infrastructure layer. New
roads, bus lanes, carpool lots, bicycle paths and roundabouts may affect
activities in the occupancy layer. This is a mutual dependency because
new infrastructure may both hamper and stimulate developments; for
example, line infrastructure can also be a barrier. Subsurface building is
increasingly advocated and applied as a solution.

Figure 4. Aqueduct over the A4 highway

In a period of less than ten years, much attention has been

devoted to improving underground spatial technology, in particular the
tunnel-boring process: tunnel construction, the built-up area and the
effects of mitigating measures, including freezing and grouting. The
second Heinenoord Tunnel in Rotterdam is the first large-diameter bored
road tunnel in the Netherlands. The risks relating to this new
construction method – which had never been used on Dutch soil before –
proved to be manageable. The tunnel was completed in 1999. The
construction of this tunnel proved so successful that the Dutch
government decided to bore a tunnel under the Westerschelde waterway,
even before the second Heinenoord Tunnel was finished.
The success of the second Heinenoord Tunnel has also
contributed to the Dutch government’s decision to construct the Green
Heart tunnel, which is designed to preserve the landscape between large
urban regions in the west of the Netherlands. However, many people do
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 21

not understand the reasoning behind an expensive tunnel for the High-
Speed Train that runs ‘under a few meadows’. The Dutch prime minister
took a radical decision to break the deadlock in the discussions about the
most desirable route for the rail link (‘not to the left of the Green Heart,
or to the right of it, but underneath it!’). It worked: all actors involved
reacted with surprise, but, since the high costs of the project were to be
met by the national government, no-one objected.

3 Actors in EIP

Environmental and Infrastructure Planning is essentially concerned with

the integration of policy development and implementation. It therefore
involves strategic decision-making in the context of political,
administrative and legislative frameworks, and implementation by
statutory processes and other means. Planning is done by and for people.
This implies that many actors are involved. By ‘actor’ we mean a person,
group or organisation with common interests and/or objectives.
Sometimes, the EU is considered as a single actor, but the agencies of
the European Union have different roles to play and can also be seen as
individual actors.
According to Teisman (1992, 55), actors may take different
positions in the planning process: interaction, incentive and intervention
positions. Actors who try to realize their own targets by co-operating
with other actors who have powers take the interaction position. An
example is co-operation between project developers and landowners.
Actors who are not directly involved in the process, but who try to
influence other participating actors by providing indirect incentives,
usually take the incentive position. An example is a higher public
authority that stimulates certain policies by providing subsidies. Actors
who have the means and power to change a course of action take the
intervention position. An example is the investor whose money is needed
to realise a project (‘implementation power’) or, on the other hand, the
owner of real estate who does not wish to sell his property and therefore
blocks new development (‘hindrance power’).
Planning processes will be managed on the basis of explicit
statutory or implicit informal rules on who can do what, when, and on
which conditions. This suggests that the planning process is subject to
various types of rules. The classifications below are borrowed from
Elinor Ostrom (Ostrom, 1986; Ostrom, 1990; Ostrom, Schroeder and
Wynne, 1993):
22 Paul Ike, Gerard Linden and Henk Voogd

• Authority rules: i.e. who has the authority to put forward

proposals, what is the planning process about and at which
government level is the planning decision to be approved?
• Information rules: i.e. the degree to which citizens are offered
free access to the information that is necessary to make decisions,
as well as the degree to which they are assisted in obtaining that
information and on determining which information is crucial to
the decision.
• Boundary rules: i.e. who can participate? These range from rules
that totally exclude or prohibit participation of ordinary people,
to rules that allow anyone to participate.
• Aggregation rules: these prescribe the mechanism that is to be
used to determine whether a valid decision has been reached.
Information about the formal aspects of these rules is usually given in
national planning laws and local planning ordinances.
In many countries in Europe, the following principal planning
actors can be distinguished: see Tables 2 and 3. This classification is not
exhaustive and is intended as an illustration.

Public Actors Principal planning task

European Union Strategic Planning
Operational Planning (i.e. funding)
Environmental and Economic Legislation
State Government Strategic Planning
Statutory Planning
Operational Planning (i.e. funding)
Environmental Impact Assessment
Regional Government Strategic Planning
Development Assessment & Control
Operational Planning (infrastructure,
water management)
Local Government Strategic Planning
Operational Planning (housing, urban
renewal, etc.)
Building and Development Permits
Water Boards Water Management
Defending water interests
Table 2. Overview of principal public-sector actors in the EIP process
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 23

Obviously, the actors mentioned in the tables are not involved in every
planning process. The European Union, for example, is especially
important when European funding is required for a project. EU policy
statements on innovation, social exclusion, equal opportunities, rural
development, urban environmental policy and unemployment all
influence the context for national policymaking in its member countries.
EU structural and cohesion funds have had a major influence on
economic and social policy. ‘Brussels’ increasingly prescribes technical
standards that have to be met by EU member states, for example with
respect to pollution control, external safety, EIA, etc.

State governments are responsible for incorporating EU rules into the

statutory planning framework of the country concerned. The
implementation of EU rules varies from country to country. In the
Netherlands, for example, the EU Environmental Impact Statement (EIS)
directives are co-ordinated by a national EIS review agency, whereas in
many other countries there is no formal EIS review procedure (see also
Chapter 12). In many, but not all, EU countries, the national government
is also responsible for long-term, strategic planning and – more
importantly – for funding or co-funding projects and programmes. This
funding is usually based on an operational plan that is approved by
Parliament on an annual basis.
The regional level is also dealt with differently in Europe (see
e.g. Albrechts, 1989; Wannop, 1995; Balchin et al. 1999). In the United
Kingdom, there was no tradition of regional planning. Only in recent
years have we witnessed a revival. In the Netherlands, however, the
provincial authorities have always played a distinct intermediary role in
planning. Here, regional plans are prepared for land use and
environmental issues, water management, traffic and transportation (see
e.g. De Roo, 2004). Provincial authorities can also make plans for other
areas if necessary, for example tourism and recreation or mineral
extraction (see Ike and Woltjer, 1996; Moolen et al., 1998). In addition,
the provinces play a role in assessing and controlling development, for
example by reviewing municipal plans for approval.
Local government is an important planning institution because
the municipal authorities regulate building and development permits. In
most countries, applications for permits must be approved to check if
they comply with local land-use plans. Sometimes, additional regulations
have to be met, especially with regard to the environment.
With regard to water management, water boards should be
mentioned as responsible organisations. In most countries, water
management is assigned to one or more public authorities that are
24 Paul Ike, Gerard Linden and Henk Voogd

responsible for protecting water resources, for flood defences, drinking

water supply, and wastewater collection and treatment. The
responsibilities of these authorities are usually restricted to one or more
of these aspects. Therefore, Europe has a variety of water boards with
different objectives and legal powers.
In addition to the public-sector actors mentioned above, EIP is
also strongly influenced by private-sector institutions and even by
individual actors. Table 3 gives a summary of the groups most likely to
participate as actors in the planning process.

Private Actors Principal task

Research organisations Provide arguments and empirical
evidence
Consultancy and Provide arguments and technical
engineering Firms information
Development Create building initiatives
companies
Building companies Create infrastructure
Investment companies Finance infrastructure
Other stakeholders Explain and defend specific interests
Consuming impacts of EIP
Table 3. Overview of principal private-sector actors in the EIP process

Co-operation between public and private-sector actors, especially with

regard to sharing costs, profits and risks in infrastructure planning, has
received much attention in recent decades. This type of co-operation is
known as a public-private partnership (PPP) (see e.g. Brookes et al.,
1984; Fosler and Berger, 1982; Weintraub and Kumar, 1997).
A major advantage of a PPP is the increased probability of
successful implementation. This is also a major weakness since the focus
is usually on a single project, thereby neglecting its impact on
developments elsewhere, because the private actors in the partnership do
not usually have a special interest in ‘elsewhere’. On the other hand,
governments should be responsible for their entire jurisdiction, which
means that public planners should always aim for an integrated or
comprehensive approach.

4 Comprehensive planning

Environmental and Infrastructure Planning is essentially a process for

assisting the community, both public and private, in making decisions
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 25

about infrastructure development, land use and related social and

economic activities for the conservation and sustainable development
and management of land and its resources. The goal of EIP is to gain a
coherent understanding of the interrelationships between the components
of the spatial system in order to develop the potential of integrally
planned and designed infrastructure systems for dealing more effectively
with the critical problems confronting our regions and cities.
The traditional individual treatment of different infrastructure
components by means of separate professional disciplines has restricted
the development of integrated strategies for building more liveable and
efficient urban environments. However, in reality many actors naturally
take up ‘interaction positions’ in the discourse arena in order to pursue
their interests – or represented interests. For example, in government too,
we notice that various ministries and departments feel a special
responsibility for the specific issues they manage, and institutional
stakeholders often try to use these official channels to promote their
specific wishes and demands. Tourist organisations have a special
interest in tourism and recreation planning, sand and gravel companies
insist on safeguarding future production spaces through mineral-
extraction planning, transport organisations campaign for special anti-
congestion policies, etc. In other words, there is a natural tendency
towards fragmented, partial, approaches, which is even strengthened by
the fact that humans tend to simplify complex situations and hence
ignore their broader consequences.
Policy analysts have always been very critical of planners who
want to resist this natural tendency by aiming at integrated,
comprehensive, planning. Traditionally, the aim of planning is to arrive
at well-considered proposals for future actions. Because of the natural
tendency of human beings, and therefore also of politicians, to
oversimplify complex situations into debatable caricatures of reality,
there is need for a scientific, i.e. logically consistent, approach that takes
account of complexity and interrelationships. According to Chapin &
Kaiser (1985, 63), a ‘comprehensive plan’ generally includes at least (1)
a statement of general goals and the specific objectives of the several
functional elements composing the plan and (2) a statement of
development and redevelopment proposals for the ensuing twenty to
twenty-five years.
Within the rational-comprehensive tradition, there is an ideal-
typical planning model that has a number of identifiable stages (see e.g.
Friedmann, 1978). A well known example of rational ‘process
architecture’ is:
1. Formulation of goals and objectives.
26 Paul Ike, Gerard Linden and Henk Voogd

2. Identification and design of major alternatives for reaching the

goals identified within the given decision-making situation.
3. Prediction of major sets of consequences that would be expected
to follow upon adoption of each alternative.
4. Evaluation of consequences in relation to desired objectives and
other important values.
5. Public consultation.
6. Decision based on information provided in the preceding steps.
7. Implementation of this decision through appropriate institutions.
8. Feedback of actual programme results and their assessment in
light of the new planning situation.

This rational-comprehensive planning model has been severely criticised

in the past, mainly because its neat structure does not correspond with
what we witness in practice (for a dated, but not outdated, discussion, see
Faludi, 1974, chapter 8). The most famous critic of the rational
comprehensive model is the political scientist Lindblom (1959, 1965)
who asserted that this model hardly corresponds to planning practice.
Lindblom coined the phrase ‘muddling through’ to characterise day-to-
day policymaking. He asserts that, rather than attempting a
comprehensive survey and evaluation of all the alternatives, in practice
decision-makers focus only on those policies that differ substantially
from existing policies. Lindblom calls this the disjointed incrementalist
model. This model considers only a relatively small number of policy
alternatives. For each policy alternative, only a restricted number of
consequences that are judged to be relevant are evaluated. An important
characteristic of the model is that the problem is continually redefined.
‘Incrementalism’ allows for countless end-means and means-ends
adjustments, which, in effect, make the problem more manageable. Thus,
there is no single ‘right’ decision or solution, but a ‘never-ending series
of attacks’ on the issues at hand by means of serial analyses and
evaluation. As such, incremental decision-making is described as
remedial and geared more towards the alleviation of current actual social
imperfections than towards the promotion of future goals.
A third theoretical model that has received much attention is the
mixed scanning approach of Etzioni (1967). This is essentially a
compromise between the rational-comprehensive approach and the
disjointed incrementalism approach. According to Etzioni, a thorough
consideration of strategic developments is essential as a guideline for
incremental day-to-day decision-making. We notice that the ‘two-step’
mixed scanning model is very similar to public planning in practice.
Municipal authorities, for example, often have a long-term strategic plan
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 27

and several operational plans or project plans. However, most public

decisions are routine. Incremental decision making deals with selective
issues as they arise. These issues may require slightly new thinking, but
they are not significant enough to trigger a ‘policy window’ (i.e. sudden
widespread attention for a policy issue) or fundamental decisions. Thus
they are dealt with ad hoc and in a disjointed manner, using whatever
analysis is close at hand, without any comprehensive review of all the
associated issues. Policy processes that operate through disjointed
incrementalism pose both challenges and opportunities for researchers.
On the one hand, policymakers in this decision-making mode are looking
for analyses that can provide quick support to decisions that are already
half-made, and they may be less inclined to consider evidence that would
be time-consuming to understand and adapt. On the other hand, the ad
hoc nature of decision-making also implies that any new evidence which
fits in and is helpful on a case-by-case basis, and which is presented at
just the right moment, has a good chance of being picked up and used
almost immediately.
After Etzioni, planning theory naturally continued to develop
primarily in the direction of dealing with the multiplicity of interests
involved in planning. Evidently, planners and governments need the
support of citizens for their proposed decisions, otherwise a proposed
planning improvement will never be realised, at least not within an
effective democratic political structure. The concept of participatory
planning therefore received increasing attention in the 1960s and 1970s,
alongside strong social movements for peace and environmental
protection, with citizens demanding more influence over government
decision-making (Godschalk and Mills, 1966; Fagence, 1977; see also
Chapter 3). Through participation, the citizen learns ‘that he has to take
into account wider matters than his own immediate private interests if he
is to gain co-operation from others, and he learns that the public and
private interest are linked’ (Pateman, 1970, 25).

A community may hold strong views on the desirability

of a particular land use, to be denoted as:
- Lulu : Locally unwanted land use
- Nimby : Not in my backyard
- Niaby : Not in anybody’s backyard
- Pitby : Put it in their backyard
- Biybytim: Better in your backyard than in mine
- Yimby : Yes in my backyard .

Many people have questioned the notion of a single common interest in

28 Paul Ike, Gerard Linden and Henk Voogd

society, and the ability of a political elite, whether elected in a

representative democracy or otherwise appointed in any form of
aristocracy, to protect that collective interest. Sandercock (1998), for
example, refers to the post-modern disintegration of the notion that
planners can work towards a single universal collective interest. Rather,
a ‘multiplicity’ or ‘plurality’ of interests in society has become evident,
meaning that a range of voices must be heard if all interests are to be
protected.
The phasing of the rational-comprehensive model assumes that
public and political involvement is reactive, i.e. experts provide
information and the public, including politicians, can respond. By
contrast, modern planning philosophies assume the proactive
involvement of interest groups, i.e. plans and programmes are developed
in close consultation with stakeholders (e.g. see Dryzek, 1970; Forester,
1989, 1999; Healey, 1997; Woltjer, 2000; Klijn and Koppenjan, 2002).
As with rational-comprehensive planning, the collaborative
comprehensive approach is also based on unrealistic assumptions, for
example the assumption that there is always a feasible consensus (‘win-
win’) solution implies that the existence of a conflict is denied.
According to Voogd and Woltjer (1999), planning discourse cannot be
effective if it is not based on planning intelligence. This involves
gathering, organising, analysing, and disseminating information to and
from stakeholders involved in the use and development of land.

5 Planning Intelligence

According to Schurz (1989), the adult brain can cope with some 106
different items. A person’s average vocabulary is 105 words, of which
104 are actually used. This is also the maximum number of complex
systems our memory can deal with. So if n! is the set of n interrelated
elements of a system, then the representation limit is n=8. Evidently, 8!
= 4032 x 104. This implies that the average human brain cannot deal
properly with systems that are larger than 8 elements. It is obvious that
integrated environmental and infrastructure systems often consist of
many more than 8 elements. In practice there is a tendency at an early
stage radically to simplify complex systems into manageable
proportions. Planning skills and planning intelligence in particular are
therefore desirable, at least from an intellectual point of view, to support
the early stages of planning and programming for arriving at ‘informed
decision making’.
The purpose of planning intelligence is to collect and analyse
information that can be used in the planning process to assist human
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 29

decision-making (see also Wyatt, 1989; Kaiser et al., 1995). Planning

intelligence supports all forms of planning activity: strategic planning
(long-term strategies), problem-solving (short-term projects), and
development administration and management. The purpose of the
intelligence is to assist in (a) describing the history and current status, (b)
forecasting the future status, (c) monitoring, recording, and interpreting
changes, (d) diagnosing planning and development problems, (e)
assessing the supply/demand balance, (f) modelling relationships,
impacts, and contingencies, and (g) presenting information to planners,
stakeholders and the general public. An example of an approach based
on planning intelligence is impact assessment (e.g. Arts, 1994, 1998;
Niekerk, 2000; Niekerk and Voogd, 1999).
A computer-assisted approach to problem-solving and decision-
making has always been important for planners, according to
Mandelbaum (1996), although its reception has varied over the years. A
history of the use of information technology in planning can be found in
Batty (1995) and Brail & Klosterman (2001). The early 1960s were the
heyday of the rational planning paradigm and the corresponding
enthusiasm for the use of computerised technology and modelling
techniques in particular. The 1970s brought widespread criticism of
computerised tools and modelling, due to their limited ability to provide
solutions that could be easily translated into daily planning practice and
urban development issues. In the 1980s, information technology
democratised in step with the planning process itself, which was an
important step towards the broad acceptance of the personal computer as
a planning tool. The 1990s brought new tools to address new planning
challenges, particularly in terms of spatial marketing (Ashworth and
Voogd, 1995) and planning support systems (Linden, 1989, 1996; Harris,
1989). The past decade has seen the increased use of computer
spreadsheets, geographic information systems (GIS) and web-based
technologies (see e.g. Batty, 1995; Klosterman, 1999; Geertman and
Stillwell, 2002; Pettit et al., 2002). The future appears to be in web-based
planning intelligence.

The New Map of the Netherlands is an interesting example of web-based

planning intelligence. This is a database containing all the spatial plans
of the municipal and provincial authorities, and national government
departments.
30 Paul Ike, Gerard Linden and Henk Voogd

All manner of residential developments fall within the

Residential residential land-use category. A distinction is made
between ‘greenfield’ residential development and
urban restructuring.
This land-use group encompasses all commercial,
Commercial, industrial, agricultural and other business
Industrial, developments. As with residential development, a
Agricultural distinction is made between ‘greenfield’ development
and the revitalization of business areas.
Nature and recreation constitute a single land-use
Nature and category because it is often hard to distinguish
recreation between pure ‘natural’ development and recreational
development.
This land-use category encompasses all transport-
Infrastructure related development (e.g. roads, railways, canals and
airports).
As ideas about water management in the Netherlands
Water change, water boards are making a claim on land.
Areas zoned for emergency water containment are
included.
Urban This category includes all the areas designated by the
restructuring 30 largest municipalities for urban restructuring.
Table 4. Categories of land use included in the New Map
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 31

Figure 4. The opening page of the New Map website

The GIS database on which the New Map is based is available in the
following formats: ArcView, MapInfo and NEN1878. It can also be
accessed on the Internet at www.nieuwekaart.nl. This website provides
an overview of all urban and rural developments (e.g. residential,
business and infrastructure) planned in the Netherlands for the coming
decades. Plans for urban restructuring, new recreational resorts and new
nature reserves are also included. Municipal and provincial authorities,
national government departments, water boards and design agencies
have submitted their projects to the New Map of the Netherlands. Figure
4 shows the opening page.
On the left-hand side of Figure 4, the user can select the region
about which information is required, for example by entering the name
of a municipality or postcode. The desired region can be selected by
zooming in or out. On the right-hand side, the type of plan and level of
government can be selected. For example, the city of Groningen (see
Figure 5).
32 Paul Ike, Gerard Linden and Henk Voogd

Figure 5. The city of Groningen

Figure 6. Overview of all spatial plans in Groningen

6 Some conclusions

Due to its complexity, environmental and infrastructure planning can

never be reduced to a simple technical exercise based only on planning
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 33

intelligence. Planning processes will always be social and political

processes, too. It is the task of planners to help organise these processes,
i.e. to design a structure for discourse and decision-making and provide
relevant information.
Today, visualisation is seen as a major interface between
planning intelligence and its users. GIS technology, and mapping
facilities in particular, is increasingly important for communicating
different outcomes. Of course, we must be aware that visual
representations can be misleading (see e.g. Monmonier, 1991). However,
this is not only true of visualisations – every day, politicians and
commercials show us how words and other means of communication can
be manipulated.

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36 Paul Ike, Gerard Linden and Henk Voogd
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 37

3
Consensus Planning in Infrastructure and
Environmental Development

Johan Woltjer

1 Introduction

All planners, whether they are preparing infrastructure projects such as

airports, railroads and highways, or are setting out a new policy
regarding sustainable building, environmental protection areas, or noise
abatement, are at times required to communicate with other
policymakers, property developers, societal pressure groups, or even
citizens. In today’s society, communication is important considering the
fact that no policy can be seriously formulated and no planning project
can be implemented without the collaboration of others. Literally no-one
can ‘do’ planning by themselves, and expect a successful outcome at the
same time. Government agencies need other government agencies to
make sure that their plans will be implemented, and they need societal
groups and citizens to support and make use of their plans. In other
words, policy actors (people, organisations) are interdependent. They can
only function if they seek involvement and make sure they reach
consensus on the topics that connect them.
Following the heightened interest in issues of consensus building
and participation in the early 1990s (the ‘communicative turn’ in
planning), which – in a theoretical sense – is reflected so well in Patsy
Healey’s work (e.g. 1993; 1997), Dutch planners have increasingly
followed a consensus planning approach. This chapter explains the basic
frames of reference behind that approach. In addition, it portrays the
recent and historical trends in consensus planning within the context of
Dutch infrastructure and environmental planning. In particular, the
38 Johan Woltjer

chapter will examine the functions of consensus planning. Above all, we

aspire to answer the question of what kind of participation consensus
planning implies, and what factors are decisive for an adequate
application in planning practice. This chapter borrows from earlier
published work, including Consensus Planning by Woltjer (2000), an
evaluation of Dutch communicative planning initiatives (Woltjer, 2001),
an article about the history of public participation in spatial planning
(Coenen & Woltjer, 2001), a report about participatory decision-making
for the OECD (Woltjer et al., 2002) and, notably, a recent article about
the perceived functions of participatory planning by Dutch infrastructure
planners (Woltjer, 2003).

2 Consensus planning

What do we mean by the term consensus planning? In both planning

theory and planning practice, consensus planning efforts are not always
called ‘consensus planning’. Dutch consensus processes in infrastructure
and environmental planning practice are referred to with a variety of
terminology. This includes terms such as open plan-making, interactive
decision-making, or participatory policy development. In the literature,
and within planning practice, there is an immense variety of frames of
reference relating to the position and merit of consensus-oriented
planning approaches.
Consensus planning approaches aim for greater governance (not
just government) in order to include all those with a stake in planning
issues. A consensus planning process is a decision-making process
aimed at establishing changes in our physical environment, in which
people or organisations with an interest in the outcome communicate to
reach agreement on that outcome. In such a process, participants work
together to resolve their differences. These differences include diverging
objectives, and/or differences in their knowledge or preferences
regarding the tools that should be used to attain certain goals. Consensus
does not mean that the participants have to agree on all of the details of
an agreement. Consensus exists if all participants find the result at least
acceptable.
Consensus planning is also a philosophy about planning that
makes demands on the way in which decision-making evolves. This
philosophy implies that citizens should be involved in a plan-making
process, that joint problem-solving takes place, and that the outcomes are
binding to some degree upon others (see also Innes, 1995; Dietz, 1995).
One key aspect is that interaction between government institutions and
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 39

citizens is more direct and takes place at an earlier stage than with the
conventional formal consultation procedures. Another aspect is that
public involvement focuses on different forms of participation (dialogue
and partnership instead of informing and consultation), and is aimed at
reaching agreement (consensus rather than consent).
There are three basic theoretical perspectives on consensus
planning that are essential to an understanding of its function. These
three perspectives are, first, the different types of consensus process that
might be taking place, second, the various models of democracy that
underpin consensus planning practice and, third, the assortment of
typologies that are available to understand participation. The three
perspectives will be discussed below.

Types of consensus process

Consensus planning processes take many forms. Different participants,

government agencies, interest groups or even citizens are involved in
each situation. Furthermore, for each situation or problem, participants
usually have a preference for a consensus-building style that is
specifically suited to their abilities, circumstances, and issues. Consensus
planning activities, then, take at least three forms: negotiating, learning,
and will-shaping, as set out below. Although the three forms inevitably
overlap, the distinction is essential to comprehend different
communicative, participatory, interactive, or consensus-oriented
planning activities.
- Negotiating (e.g. Susskind & Cruickshank, 1987; Fisher &
Ury, 1981). During the negotiating process, ‘stakeholders’ trade interests
and seek possibilities for compensation. Negotiating assumes a search
for an arrangement that incorporates all possible gains for all parties. It
urges the participants to continue negotiating until it has become
impossible to think of more joint gains. In this way, a so-called win-win
result or a mutually beneficial outcome is realized. This approach is
usually referred to as ‘principled negotiation’ or ‘integrative bargaining’
(Forester 1989; Fisher & Ury 1981). It emphasizes the importance of
focussing on interests instead of the positions that people take. To create
solutions, participants should compare or trade interests and bring them
together in an open interaction process.
- Learning (e.g. Innes, 1997, Yeo, 1995; Schön, 1971). In
learning processes, planning aims to acquire new knowledge. The
interaction between stakeholders involves the collective invention of
solutions as well as listening to and learning from each other (Healey,
40 Johan Woltjer

1993). Learning includes acquiring knowledge about the problem at

hand and learning about people’s ideas and positions.
- Persuasion or will-shaping (Roloff & Miller, 1980; Jowett &
O’Donnel, 1992). Persuasion is characterized as the process of ‘letting
people get used to’ particular solutions or points of view. Decision-
making results from continuous interaction among parties at several
official, social, and political levels. The communication between these
actors leads to a mutual adjustment of preference structures and to an
alteration of the will towards the policy in question (Voogd, 1997).
Persuasion is an influential permanent element of any policy-making
process (Hoogerwerf, 1972).

Models of democracy

Another useful theoretical consideration related to consensus planning

refers to the concept of democracy. Generally, people who are actively
involved in infrastructure and environmental planning situations have
different perceptions of the function, necessity, and range of
participation within democratic decision-making. An important feature is
the directness of democracy. This feature – and other features that will
not be discussed here – reflect different types of democracy (e.g. Held,
1996; Dahl, 1982).
In direct democracy, citizens make decisions by themselves. The
direct participation of all members of society is central to democracy
types such as deliberative democracy and plebiscitary democracy (Elster,
1998). Indirect democracy, on the other hand, refers to a type of
involvement by citizens and other groups where, ultimately, the
representatives decide. Indirect participation matches representative
democracy. In representative democracy, delegates represent the people
and use their skills to speak for people. Consensus democracy, for
example, is a type of representative democracy that usually aims to
achieve a broad consensus to support its decisions. It involves the
participation of citizens via representatives or delegates (Lijphart, 1984).
In indirect democracy, participation occurs by means of elections or via
established interest groups.
With the ‘communicative turn’, the emphasis on representation
has shifted towards an emphasis on direct involvement. Direct
democracy means that people speak for themselves. Planning processes,
then, are no longer managed by representatives who represent the absent;
these absentees are actually present. The key question is whether
individuals who have not been democratically elected as representatives
should still have a degree of authority over decisions that need to be
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 41

made. Should democratically elected political leaders and their

parliaments decide about a new dual carriageway or new standards for
environmental pollution, or should certain groups of citizens have a
direct influence on these topics as well?

The ladder of participation

As pointed out above, the participation of societal groups (environmental

interest groups, residents' associations, etc.) and citizens is an important
part of consensus planning. There have been many attempts to develop a
typology of participation. The best-known example is the ‘ladder of
participation’ presented by Sherry Arnstein in 1969 (see Table 1). This
ladder has eight rungs that represent degrees or levels of participation,
some of which are qualified as meaningful participation, whereas others
are actually non-participation (see Arnstein, 1969, p. 217). Arnstein’s
‘ladder of participation’ distinguishes between eight steps of citizen
involvement. Levels three to five (informing, consultation and placation)
represent symbolic values of participation. Here, the planning agency
creates an opportunity for individual citizens to hear of a planning issue
or submit an oral or written reaction. The highest levels (partnership,
delegated power, citizen control) signify ‘real’ participation. Here,
citizens have the opportunity to discuss and debate a plan, or even have
collaborative decision-making power.

8. Citizen control Real participation

7. Delegated power
6. Partnership
5. Placation Tokenism, ‘symbolic participation’
4. Consultation
3. Informing
2. Therapy Non-participation
1. Manipulation
Source: Arnstein (1969)
Table 1. Arnstein’s ‘Ladder of Citizen Participation’

Dutch infrastructure and environmental-planning processes have

increasingly followed an approach in the highest rungs of Arnstein’s
ladder (see for example, Teisman, 1992; Ten Heuvelhof & Termeer,
1991; Glasbergen, 1995; Coenen & Woltjer, 2001). Several Dutch
authors argue that infrastructure and environmental planning require
opportunities for the active involvement of citizens and citizen groups.
42 Johan Woltjer

Consensus planning is seen as a new activity that largely supplements

formal public consultation procedures.
The preceding remarks may suggest that there is an accepted
representation of and a general agreement on the meaning, forms and
level of consensus planning. In reality, however, there is considerable
ambivalence and disagreement. The appearance of consensus planning
varies. Overall, there is no clarity on what successful consensus building
or participation in planning means and what its main function should be.
The rest of this chapter focuses on the relevant matters underlying this
variety.

3 Planning context in the Netherlands

Before moving on to the basic functions of consensus planning, this

section will briefly clarify the Dutch planning context. The Netherlands
is one of the most densely populated countries in the world.
Infrastructure, industry, housing, agriculture, nature, and recreational
spaces have to be located carefully and attuned to one another. Spatial
planning is vital. National, provincial and municipal governments each
have their own powers for spatial planning. Agreement needs to be
reached between the various levels of government to ensure that plans
are compatible.
Dutch spatial planning is largely a government task. Coordination
takes place by means of consultation and consensus-building, largely
laid down in detailed procedures. The administrative framework is
characterised by frequent consultation and respect for the responsibilities
of the separate levels of administration (national-regional-local, or: state-
province-municipality). In other words, actors at the different levels of
government meet often and at many locations. The Dutch planning
framework contains different tracks of policy-making at three levels of
government. Each level envisages some form of infrastructure,
environmental and spatial planning.
On the environmental track, the national government establishes
a framework for environmental policy and the necessary sustainability
conditions, while provincial authorities draw up provincial
environmental policy plans every four years. In the environmental policy
plans, each province designates special environmental protection areas
and waste disposal sites. In addition, the provinces are the licensing
authority for larger industrial plants and other enterprises that have a
harmful or potentially harmful effect on the environment. Larger
municipalities usually have a strategic municipal environmental policy
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 43

plan. These plans can be regarded as comprehensive in the sense that

they involve a whole range of environmental sectors (waste, air, noise)
and deal with environmental aspects in related policy sectors (traffic,
housing, physical planning). The content of the specific plans differs
considerably, although they always incorporate a translation of national
environmental policy to the local level.
On the infrastructure track, the national Ministry of Transport is the
most important infrastructure developer. Notably, the Ministry issues
strategic lists of nationally important infrastructure projects every year.
The regional offices of the Ministry develop the strategic plans into more
detailed operational projects. All major national infrastructure projects in
the Netherlands follow the procedure of the Road and Rail Routes Act.
The Act provides for an integrated procedure for constructing or altering
national railway routes and main roads. The procedure includes a Route
Determination Plan and an Environmental Impact Assessment (EIA). It
also provides for interagency consultation and public involvement.
The Dutch system of infrastructure and – to a lesser extent –
environmental planning is a hierarchical system with different levels of
administration (state, provinces, municipalities). Despite the hierarchical
structure, provinces, municipalities and interest groups are able to
influence decision-making through meetings and consultation
procedures. All government levels have competencies that allow for the
justifiable concerns of stakeholders to be addressed at that level. In
addition, consensus-oriented planning has contributed to a well-
established system of public participation and consultation. Planners in
the Netherlands spend a considerable amount of their time and effort on
reaching agreement, via formal and informal consultation meetings, with
institutionalised interest groups and government agencies.
The boxes below contain three examples of typical planning projects
in the Netherlands in which consensus planning was attempted.

Box 1. Example ‘Infralab’.

In the second half of the 1990s, various projects followed the ‘Infralab’
approach, including motorways and water management plans. ‘Infralab’ implies
consensus-planning processes at the regional level, with a distinct emphasis on
implementation. The processes aim to incorporate new ideas and ordinary
knowledge, and to win public support from citizens, interest groups and other
government agencies. An intrinsic part of the approach are the ‘verifications’, in
which specific groups – e.g. citizens or planners – examine, check and adjust
each other’s ideas and input (De Rooij, 1996). The regional offices of the
Ministry of Transport are the initiators of these processes.
One of the cases, the A28 motorway, embraced an experiment with
consensus planning in which road users, residents and other parties worked
together to develop plans for utilising the overburdened road more efficiently.
44 Johan Woltjer

The key issue for the regional office was how best to use the space allocated
for a third lane. The emphasis lay on stimulating the creativity of users and
residents at an early stage in the planning process.
The entire process lasted a little over a year. During the first stage (‘the
Voice’), neighbours and road users presented the issues relating to the A28.
This led to a list of problems including noise nuisance and lack of safety. A
group of experts from the ministry then underlined the importance of speed
limits and a better usage of the road surface. Politicians complied with the
results of this stage. The next stage (‘the Agora’) started with meetings
between the participants from the first stage and invited ‘experts’. This group
searched for solutions to the problems. These included a special lane for rush-
hour traffic, speed limits, an improved information system for road users and a
quick modification of the road surface. In the third ‘action’ stage, the solutions
were translated into practice: a new kind of asphalt road surface, electronic
information signs and a third lane for peak-time usage.
Although participants were pleased to be able to share personal
experiences in this case, restricted representation was a disadvantage, given
the number of people who could take part. The response to invitations to
participate turned out to be selective. In addition, there were doubts about
whether the ideas put forward by the participants were really innovative. Public
acceptance for the project turned out to be more important than the use of
ordinary knowledge and innovative ideas.

Box 2. Example: A9 Motorway.

An example of a characteristic regional case is the A9, a motorway that runs
right through the centre of the town of Badhoevedorp. Obviously, this situation
led to inconvenience and harmed environmental quality. Since 1993, the
Minister of Transport has been considering a diversion of the motorway around
Badhoevedorp. For that purpose, a draft Route Determination Plan for the A9
was drawn up. The A9 was a typical Road and Rail Routes Act project with
consultation opportunities for everyone involved. A typical Road and Rail
Routes Act project implies that the regional office of the Ministry of Transport
studies the project and guides the planning process through official and
administrative consultations. The Act stipulates that the regional office must
consult with regional and municipal authorities. Typically for consensus planning
in Dutch infrastructure development, the regional office supplemented these
formal interactions by consulting regularly with interest groups. Forexample,
during informal discussions about the implementation plan for the A9 motorway,
the Dutch Railways, as well as a citizen council, a local environment group, and
a regional organisation of businesses worked with government agencies to
prepare the project. For this purpose, the regional office co-ordinated ‘sounding
board’ groups. The sounding-board group for the environment, for instance,
discussed mitigation and compensation measures. The sounding-board groups
may well have improved the understanding of the different problem perceptions
held by participants. Nevertheless, the ultimate selection of contributions by
participants remained in the hands of the Ministry.

Box 3. Example: Provincial Water Management Plan, North Holland.

Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 45

Another interesting example is the Provincial Water Plan for the Province of
North Holland. This case was highly complex due to the number of
interdependent stakeholders involved in provincial water management. In
addition, mutual dependence was implicitly important as a mainspring for
consensus planning. Although the province formulated all regional policy
objectives, it had to depend upon the municipalities and water boards to realise
these objectives. Consequently, the province attempted to fulfil the plan in co-
operation with executive government bodies.
The preparation of the plan was supervised by a project group
comprising representatives of the Ministries of Transport and Agriculture, the
provincial authority, the regional water boards, municipal authorities and the
water companies. Other stakeholders were consulted, too. The provincial
authority organised six ‘district conferences’ and a number of ‘theme
conferences’. The results of these gatherings served as a starting point for the
first draft of the plan.
The most important reasons for initiating a consensus process for this
case included the acquisition of a ‘viable plan’ and ‘a firm support base’.
Predominantly, representatives of the water departments of water boards and
municipalities were involved because their involvement was thought to increase
the likelihood of successfully implementing the provincial water plan. The water
experts were also chosen because of their practical knowledge and their ability
to devise professional solutions. During this process, the activities of the
provincial authority in respect of the public were limited to keeping them
informed.

The examples make clear that existing standards and regulations shape
the relationships between government and participants. Consensus
processes in Dutch planning situations always evolve alongside
standardised procedures. In this sense, consensus decision-making is
restricted to a certain degree by existing formalities. In addition, and
typically for many situations in Dutch infrastructure and environmental
planning, the examples involve an opportunity for everyone to express
their views on the planning decision. The process is enhanced with
public consultation, information, opportunities to lodge written
objections, as well as public hearings, workshops and discussions. The
results of the process are usually incorporated in the definitive plan,
which is then developed by elected administrators. Most Dutch planning
projects are established by government institutions and a few major
corporate bodies only.

4 A piece of history

The ‘bedrock’ of consensus planning is to be found in the existence of

Dutch consensus culture. The Dutch planning system and culture is
characterised by a long-term and comprehensive approach, and by
46 Johan Woltjer

consensus building in the community. The OECD (1995) relates this

approach to the fact that the landscape of the Netherlands is largely man-
made. From the 13th century until the mid-20th century, the Dutch
altered the country’s geography by draining marshlands and reclaiming
land from the sea. More than a quarter of the country now lies below sea
level, protected by a complex network of dikes and drainage canals.
Such major public undertakings required a considerable public
consensus with regard to their goals. De Vries and Van den Broeck
(1997) add that the adverse soil conditions may have contributed to the
perception among the Dutch that building is an inherently organised and
collective activity.
As a consequence, the consultation process is deeply rooted in
Dutch society. A great deal of time is spent in formalized consultation
meetings with institutionalised interest groups and governmental
agencies. In addition, all planning procedures are based on a legally
prescribed form of public consultation called inspraak. The history of the
inspraak process is key to understanding the overall Dutch view on
public participation.
As in many other European countries, the 1960s were the catalyst
for many ‘new’ forms of democratic participation by citizens. In the
words of Kickert (2003, p. 122): ‘The docile, law-abiding, orderly
attitude of the average Dutch citizen changed. The population
increasingly demanded more open and democratic decision-making. It
started at the universities but later spread to industry and public
administration.’ All concerned interest groups were to have an equal say,
and be allowed to participate in the discussions. The attention shifted
towards equal access for all interest groups to planning and decision-
making processes. Numerous pressure and interest groups replaced the
decision-making structures based on traditional ideological ‘pillars’
(socialist, Catholic, Protestant).
At the beginning of the 1960s, in Dutch planning literature and
practice, there was a growing understanding that planning could be based
not only on scientific reasoning, but also on political and societal
considerations (Quene, 1982). Planning was increasingly shaped by
mutual interaction with societal developments. A new kind of public
consultation known as inspraak was seen as a solution to the crisis in
representative democracy (Daalder, 1974). This did not mean, however,
that the Netherlands shifted to a pluralist form of democracy. Protest,
pressure and lobbying soon became part of existing patterns of
discussion, compromise, and consensus (Kickert, 2003).
Typically, the Dutch tradition of inspraak is well established in
government agencies, often through working with interest groups. Since
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 47

the 1970s in particular, environmental interest groups in the Netherlands

have become firmly institutionalised and operate in a co-operative way
with government rather than opposing it. The Dutch environmental
movement began to evolve in the 1960s. The groups of this period
protested against certain problems caused by government or industry. In
the early 1970s, the Dutch environmental movement became more
political. In the 1980s, the environmental organisations increasingly
directed their activities towards government involvement. They have real
influence and are consulted regularly. Many groups are represented in
one or more consultative bodies. Consultative bodies are regarded as
particularly valuable platforms for maintaining contacts and exchanging
information (Dekker et al., 1997).

If we were to summarise developments from the 1960s to the present, we

would see a shift focus away from the question of how citizens should be
involved in government policy (1960s/1970s), towards the question of
whether and how inspraak should be legally regulated (1980s), and
towards the question of how spatial planning procedures should be
structured in view of their legitimacy and effectiveness (1990s). Overall,
the 1960s and 1970s are characterised by a strong emphasis on inspraak
as a means of involving the public in policy-making. In the period after
1980, there was less emphasis on inspraak. This was a period devoted to
reviving the economy, reducing unemployment, and major cutbacks
throughout the public sector. The focus of governance shifted from
central government planning towards economy and efficiency (Kickert,
2003). During the 1980s, the predominant question was whether and
how inspraak could be translated into legislation.
In the 1990s, the emphasis shifted to the negative effects of
inspraak. There were calls for a more communicative, interactive, open,
participatory, consensus-oriented style of planning. Furthermore, the
desirability of inspraak was no longer seen as emanating from
democratic demands. Rather, public participation was thought to
constitute a function of consensus planning. In the 1990s, therefore, there
was an overwhelming emphasis on ‘new’, mostly informal, decision-
making processes seeking earlier and closer involvement of non-public-
sector actors in virtually all planning activities.
In the course of the 1990s and since the year 2000, however, the
limitations of a purely consensus planning approach have also become
clear (e.g. Voogd & Woltjer, 1999). For interest groups, for example, the
question is on whose behalf they participate in planning processes. Does
an organisation represent only its members or donors, or does it speak
for the Dutch public as a whole? The core of the problem is that private
48 Johan Woltjer

organisations and environmental groups are not organised very

democratically. A select group could make decisions that can have
consequences for the public as a whole, without democratic control.
There is also a problem with the contribution of citizens, who focus more
on issues that are close to home. Consequently, it is problematic to
involve citizens in strategic planning situations. Another problem is that
consensus planning cannot usually guarantee any form of commitment
by the legal authorities to seriously ‘do something’ with the agreement
reached, and the input from participants. A purely communicative
planning process generally lacks a solid connection with formal
decision-making arenas, and, therefore, is left without any obligations.

5 A matter of function

A particularly important basis for views on consensus planning relates to

its perceived function. The basic idea is that one should always ask: how
should we be using the consensus planning approach? This question
should be a priority before embarking on any participation-oriented
activity. This section looks at the possible functions of consensus
planning and participation in general.

The literature provides various classifications for the function of

participation (e.g., Richardson, 1983). They result in a dual classification
for the functions of participation. One view, for example, values
participation as something worth striving for in its own right. The ideal
of the capable and empowered citizen is associated with this strand of
thought (e.g. Innes, 1996). On the other hand, there is a view that
participation is a tool for improving decision outcomes (e.g. Hathway,
1997). Even in this respect, many distinctions can be made. Overall, an
adequate classification is based upon the contrast between normative
functions (with an emphasis on certain aspects of democracy and
emancipatory values) and instrumental functions (with an emphasis on
effective, efficient, and pragmatic usage). The classification of the
functions of consensus planning is based on classical distinctions
between substantial and functional rationality (Mannheim), or Wert- und
Zweckrationalität (Weber). The classification is given in Table Two.
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 49

Normative Instrumental
§ Functioning of democracy: § Influence:
- democratic legitimacy of the - make one’s specific interests felt
decision-making process - gain control
- emancipation and self- § Effectiveness:
development of citizens - additional source of knowledge,
- direct or indirect argumentation, ideas and
involvement of citizens information broadening of public
§ Functioning of the support for
constitutional state: - specific decisions
- promotion of interests - institutional capacity
- protection of interests § Efficiency:
- gain time
- save money
- prevent objections and appeals
Table 2. Normative and instrumental functions of consensus planning

The normative function

The normative functions of consensus planning are related to demands
for direct or indirect democracy and a solid constitutional state (Jolles,
1974). One of the arguments is that, in an active democracy, the voice of
the citizen should be listened to. Another argument is that participation is
necessary to extend the legitimacy of the decision-making process.
Consensus planning is seen, then, as central to the emancipation of the
citizens themselves and to the protection of their interests.
If we translate the normative function of consensus planning into
the Dutch situation, we have to take into account the prevailing model of
democracy in the Netherlands: representative democracy. Dutch
infrastructure and environmental planning and decision-making are
based on this model. Representative democracy implies that the
decision-making authority of the elected institution (i.e. politicians) is
the first matter of importance. Elected politicians –advised by
professional experts and lay participants – make the decisions.
According to this frame of reference, then, Dutch planners usually think
it would be going too far to allow decisions to depend on the results of
the consensus process. In a representative democracy, a degree of
responsibility remains with the minister, the member of the Provincial
Executive, or the municipal councillor involved. The Dutch government
generally endorses the wish of societal organisations, other governments,
50 Johan Woltjer

and interest groups to take responsibility for solving the problems that
arise at their own local level. It is always emphasised, however, that
central government has the final say in relevant public decisions.

The instrumental function

The instrumental function of consensus planning relates to the use of
participation to achieve effective and efficient planning instruments. The
instrumental argument of a consensus approach to governance implies
that participation can be a vehicle for the trouble-free realisation of
governmental objectives, and can provide citizens with an opportunity to
influence decision-making. Consensus planning contributes to efficiency
and effectiveness because it yields information and ideas, because it
increases public support for the decision, thus averting implementation
problems, objections, and appeals. Overall, the instrumental position
considers an investment in consensus planning to be a possible way to
generate public support, to gain time (shorter decision-making processes
in the long term), to incorporate relevant knowledge (good ideas and lay
expertise from participants), and even as a method for gaining control
(because positions and interests remain transparent). From this pragmatic
perspective, participation is put forward as an instrument for
incorporating ‘good’ public contributions into the policy-making
products, thus arriving at effective policy results. In addition, consensus
planning can also result in new professional and personal networks
(Innes et al. 1994), which can then be used for other issues outside the
consensus process, to transmit ideas and practices, and possibly to build
trust. This effect is called ‘institutional capacity’ (Healey, 1997)
Some typical studies of consensus planning by Dutch planning
agencies (e.g., RM, 1996; and V&W, 1996) emphasise that the main
function of consensus planning is related to reaching agreement.
Generally, Dutch planners think of participants as not only government
institutions, but also a variety of interest groups, private companies, and
citizens, which all have resources and powers that can be decisive for the
success of policies and plans. A ‘sense of ownership’ is particularly
important for the plan or project to win public support, and thus facilitate
implementation.
Another function perceived by Dutch planners is the idea that
consensus planning can generate relevant information about the possible
impact of planning impacts and the participants it affects. Planners may
think they can react more quickly and precisely to demands ‘from
outside’ if they have information about the interests and needs of citizens
affected by planning. The function is not the involvement itself, but the
early acknowledgement of resistance in order to achieve ‘trouble-free’
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 51

completion of the planning process. In this sense, the conception of

consensus planning is that it should lead to greater control over the
planning process and its outcome (V&W, 1998).
Overall, the key thought in Dutch planning is the idea that
consensus arrangements should be directed towards acceptance and
support. The need for consensus planning does not stem primarily from
certain democratic values but from the desire for efficient procedures
and public acceptance. The instrumental approach to consensus
planning, combined with the clear aim of winning political,
administrative, and societal support, make Dutch consensus planning a
‘Public Support Machine’, as it were (Woltjer, 2003). In normative
terms, it should be pointed out that representative government remains in
control. We are not dealing with direct democracy here. The main
institutions, such as ministries, major interest groups and provincial and
municipal governments, typically control development and are fully
involved in planning. Citizens are usually not responsible for decision-
making and are partly involved via institutionalised, regulated channels.

6 Applying consensus planning

A basic question that underlies this chapter is how consensus planning

can be applied to different planning situations. There are different types
of consensus planning for different situations. The word ‘consensus’
requires us to differentiate between, on the one hand, the ‘how’
(consensus on instrumental issues: tools, methods, and knowledge) and,
on the other, the ‘why’ (consensus on the normative issues: goals and
values). Table 3 contains a typology of planning projects based on these
distinctions.
Consensus on Dissensus on instrumental
instrumental issues issues
Consensus
on ‘straightforward’ situation instrumentally complex
normative technical problem situation
issues distributional problem
Dissensus
on complex normative very complex situation
normative situation ‘wicked problem’
issues sensitive problem
Table 3. Four types of planning problem
52 Johan Woltjer

Building on Cristensen (1985), Walton (1972), and Hisschemöller &

Hoppe (1996), among others, the table illustrates four types of problem –
one in each quadrant. A simple, straightforward situation implies a
problem in which participants agree upon the interests involved and the
general goals, and also agree about how to realise these goals. This is
shown in quadrant one, which holds clear links to rational planning,
whereby planners simply match expert knowledge to given ends. A
complex ‘wicked problem’ (quadrant four) involves a situation in which
participants have substantially different beliefs and goals. Moreover, the
instruments are uncertain or unclear. These problem situations are very
uncertain and unstable. It seems, however, that planners frequently find
themselves in this situation. Quadrants two and three represent complex
normative and complex instrumental situations, respectively. A common
situation in infrastructure and environmental planning is one in which
actors agree, for example, on whether to build a new highway, but
disagree about how exactly this should be done. This example is a
distributional problem (quadrant three).

Generally, the following application can be suggested:

- Highly complex decision-making problems are suitable for
consensus planning approaches based on learning. The process is
best geared towards gaining public support.
- For distributional problems, in which parties agree on normative
matters but not on how to use instruments and knowledge,
consensus planning works best as a negotiation process. It should
be aimed at obtaining information, new ideas and knowledge
from the other participants.
- Sensitive problems involve clashes between the values and goals
of participants. A careful will-shaping process aimed at gaining
support and understanding seems to be more appropriate here.

Many cases begin with a learning process. If this process results in an

agreement about goals and values only, a negotiating process is required.
If a consensus about the instruments only is achieved, a will-shaping
process is required. In learning processes, the aim of planning is to
acquire new knowledge. Citizens and interest groups participate in the
preparation as well as in the constructional phases of decision-making.
When negotiating, interested parties seek an exchange of interests and
compensation possibilities. Citizens participate in the operational phase
only. Interest groups are sometimes involved in the preparatory phases as
well.
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 53

Consequently, if one looks at different planning problems and

projects and asks how consensus building would fit, only one answer
remains: consensus planning is preferable but not appropriate for every
planning situation. Every planning problem, phase, level or situation
requires a different approach. A distributional problem may require a
different approach to a straightforward technical problem. Also,
consensus planning goes with the traditional ‘rational’ approach. In other
words, conventional planning and communicative planning may well be
complementary (Alexander, 1996). It seems that many aspects of the
rational planning approach should be safeguarded when adopting a
communicative planning style based on consensus building. Effective
and efficient spatial planning, then, begins by researching the problem at
hand rather than by blindly applying a communicative approach.

7 Concluding remarks

Overall, this chapter has explained some of frames of reference for the
function of consensus planning, as used by the planners of Dutch
highways, railroads, environmental protection zones, etc. Whereas much
of the literature emphasised the normative arguments surrounding
consensus planning, planning practitioners in the Netherlands tend to
take an instrumental position.
The notions of Dutch infrastructure planners are mainly
pragmatic. Pragmatism emphasises that the quality of a decision is to be
found in its practical application. Pragmatic planners emphasise that
existing conditions within their field cannot always accommodate
extensive participation, or, if they do, undesirable outcomes may result.
For some situations, then, consensus processes may be undesirable. As a
consequence, non-participation or consultation via established formal
procedures is (still) acceptable in infrastructure and environmental
planning. Furthermore, experiences in Dutch infrastructure and
environmental planning emphasise the importance of knowing the limits
of consensus planning.
The effectiveness of consensus planning lies primarily in its
ability to generate public support. Essentially, infrastructure planners in
the Netherlands put forward consensus planning as some sort of ‘Public
Support Machine’. From a normative point of view – which relates to the
public and political responsibilities within representative democracy –,
Dutch planners do not easily overstep the limits of decision-making
conventions. Planners dutifully operate within the scope of
representative democracy. Consensus planning is then regarded as an
54 Johan Woltjer

occasional but welcome addition. It generates additional data and public

support but is not directed towards direct democracy.
An indication of this conception is that planning practitioners
rarely take the risk of raising every issue for discussion. Consensus
planning is used selectively. In practice, therefore, it often involves
dialogue, negotiations and discussions only on partial aspects of projects,
or only on clear-cut activities within the planning process. There is an
enormous difference, for example, between a consensus planning effort
aimed at establishing a new environmental zone, and a consensus
planning effort aimed at studying the ‘fit’ of this new environmental
zone within certain local landscape characteristics. The problem
definition for the plan or project is a determining factor.
Did the communicative turn in planning have a significant effect
on Dutch planning? If consensus planning implies a planning approach
based on all-inclusive informal dialogues, then this is not the case.
Nevertheless, participation and consensus processes play an important
role in Dutch infrastructure and environmental planning. The approach
of planners is, however, mainly instrumental with a strong emphasis on
outcome, effectiveness and efficiency. This means that public
participation has evolved into a ‘public support machine’. It also means
that consensus planning is used to complement representative
democracy. Because consensus planning is used instrumentally, it does
not necessarily contradict the principles of representative democracy.
An important key thought in this chapter is that consensus
planning approaches or related approaches can never be reduced to a
simplistic distinction between ‘conventional planning’ and ‘consensus
planning’. In fact, such an absolute duality does not exist in planning
practice. Public participation is subject to many variables. They come in
many different forms, not just two: conventional and consensus. As
planning theory stands at present, after several decades of discussion
about the need for more communicative planning, clearly a much more
varied approach is needed, in which the factors determining the success
of participation efforts are made explicit. If we translate this into the
need for further study, it is careful analysis that is needed, not – so to
speak – another normative approach depicting a black-and white ‘good-
evil’situation, as was the case in the late 1980s and early 1990s. There is
also a need to look at new forms of and possibilities for public
participation and multilevel governance, especially in the light of current
societal changes.
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 55

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Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 67

4
Challenging Urban Environmental Conflicts

Gert de Roo

1 Introduction

The Netherlands is a country known to be at the forefront of

environmental policymaking. Especially attractive is the top-down
policy approach that separates environmentally intrusive activities, such
as industry and traffic, from sensitive activities such as housing by
means of ‘environmental zoning’. Rigid standards are implemented to
restrict almost all types of environmental spill over to an acceptable
level. The system is both elegant and simple: environmental standards
are translated into contours around environmentally intrusive activities,
which are then translated into spatial zones to be incorporated into a
local land-use plan. However, during the 1990s, environmental policy
proved to have far more restrictive consequences for spatial planning
than expected. Popular spatial strategies, such as the Compact City, are
heavily affected by environmental regulations. In particular, the spatial
structure of urban areas is often so complex that it is almost impossible
to solve urban environmental conflicts by means of an all-purpose
zoning procedure. In the Netherlands, there have been various proposals
for transforming the system of environmental policy in order to deal with
the complexity of the urban environment. One such proposal is the
national City & Environment project. The project has been set up to
solve complex environmental problems in urban areas. The selected
cases are seen as Best Practices and are an example for other projects
and for municipal authorities. This article is a critical review of the
project’s background and Best Practices.
68 Gert de Roo

2 The compact city

In most parts of Europe, compact-city policies have become a popular

means of planning for sustainability. Dense, compact cities were seen as
a means of reducing ever-increasing mobility. They were also seen as a
way to avoid the urbanization of the countryside. Recently, planners
have expressed serious doubts about the impact of the positive effects of
the compact city concept. Conflicts in the compact city context have
become – so to speak – complex due to spatial pressure and to the
growing number of diverging interests that have to be taken into account.
Traditional technical approaches may no longer be sufficient to solve
these complex dilemmas or conflicts.
In the early 1980s, the compact city was welcomed in the
Netherlands and other European countries as a planning concept that
offered solutions to a number of urban difficulties. Periods of expansion
and urban deconcentration had exerted tremendous pressure on the
countryside. In addition, the availability of land became an ever-growing
issue due to the heavy claims made by rapidly increasing levels of
mobility. It was a period in which the Dutch population was growing
fast. Later, when the size of the population more or less stabilized,
households were getting smaller and smaller. As a result, the number of
households increased. While the demand for housing and urban space
continued to grow (Frieling 1995; 7), the negative effects of urban
sprawl meant that a change was required in the outward-oriented
movements in the surge for urban space. The compact-city concept was
seen as an approach that could end ‘the evil of urban sprawl’ (Beatley
1995; 384). Thomas and Cousins have summarized the most cited
advantages: ‘less car dependency, low emissions, reduced energy
consumption, better public transport services, increased overall
accessibility, the re-use of infrastructure and previously developed land,
the rejuvenation of existing urban areas and urban vitality, a high quality
of life, the preservation of green space and a milieu for enhanced
business and trading activities’ (1996; 56). The intensification of the use
of space would also strengthen the self-containment (Elkin et al. 1991;
16), diversity, and multifunctionality of the city.
The compact-city concept was thought to be capable of achieving
even more than this. At a time when the World Commission on
Environment and Development (1987) put sustainability on the political
agenda, quite a number of spatial planners were convinced that they
already had the answer. The concept of the compact city was also
thought to be a sustainable concept. Beatley is not alone in believing that
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 69

‘sustainable communities [...] are places that exhibit a compact urban

form’ (1995; 384). The European Union became a vociferous supporter
of sustainable urban development using compact urban concepts (CEC
1990), stating that the compact city leads to ‘a superior quality of life for
its residents’ (see Breheny 1992; 155). Although the compact city was
initially not intended as a blueprint for sustainability, belief in the
positive effects of the concept is widespread.
Thomas and Cousins are, however, sceptical, stating that these
‘claims are at the very least romantic and dangerous’ (1996; 56). For
example, the reduction in car mobility did not happen, and the enormous
demand for housing made urban spread in the countryside inevitable. As
a concept for sustainability, compactness seems to be primarily a belief
in a simplicity that does not exist. On the other hand, compactness as a
spatial concept is a response to outward expansion that comes about too
easily and, for various reasons, is regarded as undesirable. The compact-
city concept is, therefore, first and foremost a spatial concept designed to
intensify the use of existing urban space ‘as much as possible’, thereby
improving the quality of urban life and preserving the countryside.

3 Dilemmas of the compact city

The relationship between the compact city and the environment is

controversial for more than one reason. Not only did the compact city
prove to be less sustainable than some people believed it to be, but
compact urban development will most likely have a negative effect on
the quality of the ‘grey’ environment as well. The ‘grey’ environment is
the environment that can be affected by intrusive emissions such as
noise, odour, dust, toxic pollutants, calamities and so on (Hoeflaak and
Zinger 1992). These emissions are caused by all kinds of urban activity,
with industry and traffic as the main contributors.
These activities are responsible for the emission of environmental
loads, which can be seen as externalities with tapering effects (Pinch
1985). This means that there is a distance-dependant relationship
between environmentally intrusive activities and functions and
environmentally sensitive functions and areas. It therefore seems logical
to maintain a certain distance between conflicting urban functions. In the
compact city, however, distance is seen as a luxury. The Dutch
Government therefore uses centrally imposed standards to enforce this
distance and restrict emissions. The standards result in contours around
environmentally intrusive activities and functions. This can mean that
some environmentally sensitive functions are prohibited in certain zones.
Standards thus have a considerable influence on spatial organization.
70 Gert de Roo

Although the First National Environmental Policy Plan of The

Netherlands (VROM et al. 1989) supported the compact city concept, the
Second National Environmental Policy Plan (VROM et al. 1993)
recognized the negative side effects of compact urban development:
‘During the preceding plan period the case for moving towards the idea
of a compact city was argued. Increasingly different functions are
concentrated in cities [...]. The advantages are the reduced transport and
space requirements. On the other hand, environmental problems are
concentrated in the urban area, which can lead to conflicts between
living and work functions. This dilemma is referred to as the “paradox of
the compact city”’ (VROM et al. 1993; 203).
Most conflicts are the result of an ‘environmental clash’ between
housing on the one hand, and industry and traffic on the other.
According to Bartelds and De Roo (1995), the majority of these
environmental conflicts in urban areas can be grouped into a small
number of categories. First, industrial sites, then sites that are more or
less disused, abandoned or rundown. These are mainly disused industrial
sites, harbours, military compounds and railroad yards. These areas are
highly sought-after by local authorities in order to transform them into
multifunctional or residential areas. Contaminated sites (brown-field
sites), sites around railroad stations and sites along road and rail
networks are also mentioned by Bartelds and De Roo as locations where
urban environmental conflicts often occur. Some of these conflicts are
the result of past intrusions that have caused soil contamination, thereby
prohibiting new development. The other conflicts can be associated with
tapering effects from emission sources that are still present. The ‘grey’
environment of these sites sources is under pressure from the
concentration of mixed functions and from functional transition. These
are functions which, for environmental reasons, are incompatible. This
results in ‘dilemmas of the compact city’, which are related to
environmentally intrusive activities and their environmentally sensitive
surroundings. The dilemmas also relate to plans for locating sensitive
functions at sites bearing a heavy environmental load.
A number of developments which lead to an increasing density
and/or a change of function or an expansion of activities give rise to
stagnation or cannot take place at all because the actual or expected
environmental quality is seen as unacceptable. Often, these
developments are seen as desirable from a spatial point of view.
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 71

4 City & Environment

The integration of urban planning and environmental policy is essential

in order to achieve the best possible quality of life and the efficient and
economical use of spatial resources in the cities. The proposed solution
is to implement, in addition to conventional policy, an area-specific
approach that produces tailor-made solutions designed to solve
environmental problems in the area in which they arise. According to the
Dutch Ministry of Housing, Spatial Planning and Environment (VROM):
‘All the parties involved need to participate in the process, in order to
achieve the best solution for everyone. Ultimately the solution needs to
be more than merely the sum of what could have been achieved by the
various parties separately. An integrated approach should allow all
parties to benefit and, in other words, generate win-win solutions’
(VROM 1999). This kind of policy requires that responsibilities be
delegated to the municipal authorities, so that they can make integrated
policy decisions. This could include the option of deviating from current
legislation, if there is a serious need to do so.
As a result of these arguments, the so-called City and
Environment project has been proposed. The national City &
Environment project consists of three measures by and under the
responsibility of the local authority. Because every area has different
problems, appropriate and tailor-made solutions need to be sought. This
is why the responsibility for finding solutions rests with the local
authorities. The first step involves integrating the interests of spatial
planning and environmental policy at an early stage of the planning
process, as well as tackling environmental problems at source whenever
possible. In the second step, municipal authorities must make maximum
use of existing regulations. This means that they must make creative
attempts to solve problems within the framework of current legislation.
Finally, if the first and second steps do not achieve the desired result, the
third step can be taken. The third step involves a relaxing of
environmental standards, but there must be gains to compensate this,
either in the same environmental area or in terms of general quality-of-
life.
In the view of Brands and Aquarius, ‘a crucial element of the
City and Environment approach concerns the involvement of all the
parties into the planning and decision process’ (1999). The search for
tailor-made solutions needs to be a joint effort, so that solutions are
based on a solid foundation. Therefore, one of the lessons to be learned
from the experiments is how to involve stakeholders (e.g. local residents
and companies).
72 Gert de Roo

This project, which was announced in the second National

Environmental Policy Plan (VROM et al. 1993), seeks structural
solutions for urban conflicts where there is a clash between environment
and space. In 1994, cities were asked to submit specific conflicts for a
trial project. In 1995, 25 projects were eventually selected from 87
submissions (see Figure 1). The projects were designated as
experimental City & Environment projects, which are the so-called Best
Practices. The experiments were selected to represent a wide range of
problems and a geographical spread over the country. It was also
important to select a wide range of cases. In all cases, the sites will be
used for mixed purposes like housing, employment and sometimes
recreation, and the desired development is threatened by contaminated
land, air pollution, odours or noise.

5 Functional consequences of the project

The locations or areas involved in the experimental City and

Environment projects can be categorised into approximately seven
location types (see Figure 1). In addition to the categories mentioned
above, there are: harbour areas, riverbank areas, residential areas and
inner cities. Notably, these location type distinctions are almost all
redevelopment sites (Kuijpers and Aquarius 1998). Together, the
location types present a relatively comprehensive picture of the spatial
constellation that causes the various environmental conflicts (TK 1998).
Industrial sites. Industrial activities contribute substantially to the
overall disruption of the quality of life in residential areas in the
Netherlands. Four percent of the population in the Netherlands is
reported to be ‘seriously’ troubled by some form of environmental
pollution caused by industrial activity (VROM 1993; 96). Other sources
report that six percent of the Dutch population is affected by noise
pollution from industrial activity (VROM et al. 1998). Noise pollution
from industry accounts for ten percent of the total noise problem, which
is still a modest figure (VROM 1993). The situation is quite different
with regard to odour nuisance, substance emissions and public safety.
Forty-five percent of the overall odour nuisance, and thirty-five percent
of air-polluting emissions are caused by industry. Industry is also
responsible for eighty percent of external safety problems (VROM
1994).
Between 1990 and 1993, the Ministry of Housing, Spatial Planning
and the Environment commissioned several studies into the extent of the
problems of environmental intrusions caused by industry in the
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 73

Netherlands (Akkerman 1990, Bartels and Van Swieten 1990, Hauwert

and Keulen 1990, SCMO-TNO 1993, Van Swieten and Keulen 1992).
The studies point out that, of the more than 1,700 sites investigated, 257
sites with heavy industry are responsible for several types of
environmental intrusion (SCMO-TNO 1993). The majority (176) of
these sites involve only two types of intrusion, and the combination of
noise and odour nuisance is the most common problem. One of the
studies also considers the size of environmentally sensitive areas that
suffer from environmental intrusion. The study is based on the largest
sectoral type of environmental intrusion present for the purpose of the
study. It is a rough estimate that nevertheless presents a reasonably
accurate picture of the effects of industrial activity in terms of intrusions
on the local environment. The estimate shows that only 59 of the
industrial sites causing multiple intrusions affect a relatively small
number of local residents (1,000 or less). On the other hand, 99 of the
257 industrial sites studied are considered responsible for placing an
excess burden on between 1,000 and 10,000 local residents, while 77 of
the sites studied are placing an excess burden on between 10,000 and
50,000 local residents. Twenty-two industrial sites in the Netherlands are
estimated to be placing an excess burden on more than 50,000 local
residents (SCMO-TNO 1993).

Source: Blanken (1997)

Figure 1. City & Environment submissions, by location type
74 Gert de Roo

Site reconstruction. The reconstruction of disused sites within and

near urban areas provides an opportunity for using space economically
and concentrating urban functions (VROM 1993; 13). Railway yards
become available when shunting activities are concentrated at a limited
number of locations, and when city-centre shunting activities are
transferred to locations outside the city. The Amersfoort railway is a
good example of this (Hoogland and Kolvoort 1993). Sites in or near
urban areas have also become available since the ‘Fall of the Wall’ and
subsequent cutbacks in armed forces, since the end of the Cold War, and
since the abolition of compulsory military service. The former Kromhout
barracks are a good example. The site was submitted as a City &
Environment project by the Municipality of Utrecht. It was submitted
because the environmental quality of the site was at odds with finding a
new use for it (Municipality of Utrecht 1997). The spatial-development
opportunities for such sites are often clear in advance because, in most
cases, only one function has been or will be abandoned. The same
applies to a limited number of industrial sites, including former gasworks
(e.g. Municipality of Groningen 1997). These sites are virtually ‘cleared’
when the activity is discontinued. At these sites, the potential for
developing new environmentally sensitive functions depends on the level
of soil pollution and the level of environmental intrusion on the vicinity.
However, by far the majority of industrial sites considered for
housing construction have not been abandoned. Nevertheless, they are
ready for restructuring for various reasons (Municipality of Apeldoorn
1998, Municipality of Leiden 1998, Hoogland and Kolvoort 1993,
Kuiper Compagnons 1996). These are sites without a dominant activity,
where activities are many and diverse. Restructuring is advisable for
these sites because of factors such as unoccupied premises, land that has
not yet been allocated, ailing companies, reduced attraction of the area,
accessibility and environmental quality. Accessibility is often a problem
at these sites, which have often been partially surrounded by residential
areas. In addition, roads and infrastructure are no longer adequate
because a change in transport modality has taken place. In the past, these
sites were served by rail and harbour transport, where possible.
Currently, however, most of the transport is by road (Koekebakker
1997). The restructuring of such sites is necessary to prevent further
dilapidation, and opportunities are now being found to transform them
into high-quality locations by means of a multifunctional construction
that is appropriate for their immediate surroundings. Because there is a
political preference for a cohesive, varied and multifunctional urban
spatial planning, and because compactness will result in intensification
of space, it is to be expected that environmental conflicts will manifest
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 75

themselves at these locations in particular. Submitting such locations as

City & Environment projects will help to find a systematic solution to
this kind of problem.
In addition to the question of soil sanitation, the shift of activities
is a serious problem for planners; some of the activities have already
moved, some of them will move in the foreseeable future, some want to
relocate but do not have the means to do so, and some will not even
consider relocating. This lack of clarity makes it difficult to develop
these sites into multifunctional locations or residential areas.
Build Up areas. Build Up areas are a specific type of transitional
location. ‘Build Up areas involve new residential areas, new facilities
centres, new industrial and commercial sites at the edges of the urban
area and adjustments within the existing area’ (Koekebakker 1997; 3).
The idea that these locations are virgin and can be developed as one sees
fit is far from correct. The desired housing development and the
environmentally intrusive functions that are still present lead to
conflicting spatial claims. And ‘accidentally or not, Build Up areas are
situated at the edges of the urban area where most industrial sites are as
well’ (Koekebakker 1997; 3). The influence of industrial areas on the
environment is evident from environmental emissions – licensed and
otherwise – and also from the traffic-attracting effect of activities at the
site. This is why the local activities at such locations must be taken into
account when Build Up areas are developed. Kreileman (1996) shows
that even Build Up areas are not entirely immune to environmental
claims resulting from existing functions or activities (see Figure 2).
These include functions that are not necessarily suitable for
relocation, for example underground and above-ground energy networks,
existing infrastructure and activities (see also Kreileman and De Roo
1996). Van der Poll notes that sound-pollution contours are often the
factor that determines whether a site is designated for housing
development. The picture of noise ‘contour planning’ (Van der Poll
1996; 5) is confirmed by Kreileman’s study of environmental conflicts in
Build Up areas. In these areas, problems will arise at some time or
another due to factors such as lack of information, emphasis on
environmentally intrusive aspects to which particular legislation applies,
and the fact that environmental aspects are not incorporated sufficiently
early in spatial-planning schedules. Environmental contours can thus
obstruct spatial developments or cause them to stagnate (Kreileman
1996). This is why the City & Environment project makes it possible to
relax the standards in certain circumstances in order to benefit the quality
of life. The City & Environment project also emphasises the need to
76 Gert de Roo

integrate the interests of spatial planning and environmental policy at an

early stage in the planning process.

Locations with polluted soil. All kinds of activities in the past have led to
a situation in which, at many locations in the Netherlands, the soil is
polluted by environmentally harmful substances to such a degree that the
natural condition of the soil is threatened or already affected, and there is
a potential risk to ecosystems and human health. In most cases, these
are/were industrial sites. But there are also other types of pollution that
have been caused by activities that are not industrial. Illegal waste
dumping (Diemerzeedijk, Volgermeerpolder, etc.) and the underground
storage of domestic fuel oil are well-known examples. Although many
cases of soil pollution were caused over the past few decades, some
cases of pollution may have been caused over the course of several
centuries. The soil pollution in Amsterdam’s Jordaan quarter, now
primarily a residential area, was caused by the many tanneries and other
activities related to ship-building in the sixteenth and seventeenth
centuries. Due to the dynamics of the environment, and the urban
environment in particular, it is not always possible to identify the cause
of the pollution immediately. Therefore, a historical study is often the
first step towards identifying urban locations with polluted soil.
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 77

Figure 2. Contour map showing environmental intrusion at the

‘Waalsprong’ Build Up area in Nijmegen (source: Kreileman 1996).

Railway station locations and railway zones. The national govern-

ment has formulated several ideas relating to the development of railway
station locations, and has translated them into policies that do not
necessarily complement or enhance each other. At a number of sites
78 Gert de Roo

around railway stations (e.g. Amersfoort, Dordrecht, Hengelo and

Venlo), stagnation of spatial development was a threat or actually
occurred. One side of the coin is the policy designed to stimulate the
clustering of urban development in order to achieve efficient traffic and
transport, and to channel mobility in and around urban areas as much as
possible. Attempts have been made to enhance the quality of the
environment in order to stimulate a shift in the modal split. The policy
also reduces the involvement of central government in favour of greater
responsibilities at local level. Despite this fundamental policy change,
infrastructure nodes remain a crucial factor in policy development.
The other side of the coin is that functional spatial developments
around railway stations and along railway lines can conflict with the rail
activities that take place there. The spatial and environmental barrier
effect of rail infrastructure is considered a problem for urban
development (Blanken 1997, Municipality of Leiden 1998, Hoogland
and Kolvoort 1993). In addition to excessive noise (Blanken 1997, NS
Railinfrabeheer 1996), there are also problems relating to environmental
risks (Bakker 1992, Bakker 1997; see also Van der Laan 1992). At
railway stations where railway vans carrying substances like ammonia,
LPG, ethylene oxide and chlorine are shunted, group-risk standards are
the main reason that high concentrations of homes and offices are
prohibited near shunting activities of this kind.
Road infrastructure. Several factors relating to traffic develop-
ment, urban development and societal trends are causing environmental
pressure along the road infrastructure, and this is a major factor affecting
liveability in the immediate vicinity. The factors include increasing
mobility by car; commuting distances have only decreased to a limited
extent as a result of compact city development; the dynamics and
restructuring of residential and working areas are evolving increasingly
independently (Hemel 1996; 17); the number of double-income
households with different work locations is increasing (Camstra 1995);
public facilities and institutions are being clustered; recreational traffic
has increased considerably; the quality and quantity of public transport
may be insufficient as a pull factor; circulation measures, relocation and
planning measures, and price policy measures are meeting with
opposition from car owners, retailers, institutions, and inner-city
businesses; the infrastructure for cyclists is not adequate everywhere, etc.
Traffic and transport problems in and around urban areas are highly
complex and it is not easy to find single measures for them. Autonomous
processes, technical limitations, public opposition, and psychological
factors are among the reasons that the car is still a sacred cow, and its
continued survival is not simply due to a lack of willingness. For many,
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 79

the car is still the best alternative in terms of money, time and
convenience. With regard to traffic and transport problems, congestion
(i.e. reduced accessibility) and harmful effects on the local environment
still go hand in hand. Some of the submissions for the City &
Environment project show that municipal authorities believe that they
could use space along road routes if the related legislation on noise (8
submissions) and air pollution (4 submissions) did not prevent the
development of these areas (see Blanken 1997).
Other location types. Four location types have not yet been
mentioned. These are harbours and riverbanks, and inner-city and
residential areas. The problems with harbours and riverbanks are roughly
similar to those of the categories ‘industrial sites’ and ‘site
reconstruction’ described above. They involve restructuring disused
harbours and river/canal banks into residential and/or recreational areas
(Municipality of Apeldoorn 1996, Municipality of The Hague 1992,
Municipality of Smallingerland 1997), rejuvenating harbours and
riverbanks into multifunctional areas, and developing open spaces. The
‘inner city’ and ‘residential area’ categories partially overlap. The former
involves relatively small-scale projects in city centres (Municipality of
Arnhem 1997, Municipality of Delft 1998, Project group Raaks 1997,
Van der Veeken 1997). The ‘residential area’ category can be
characterized as heterogeneous. It often relates to spatial development
that is intended to contribute to the social renovation of a residential area
(Van Riel and Hendriksen 1996).
From the diversity of dilemmas that result from compact urban
development, it is possible to select several that are environmental
conflicts: distance-related conflicts with above-ground intrusion on the
environment, and location-related conflicts caused by the presence of
subterranean pollution. From a functional-spatial perspective, they
constitute bottlenecks in the existing spatial constellation – primarily the
functions ‘industry’ and ‘traffic’ – and bottlenecks caused by changes in
the existing spatial structure. In the latter case, the conflicts are usually
temporary (De Roo 1999, 2003).

6 The Evaluation of the City & Environment project

The Dutch parliament regarded Step 3 of the City & Environment

approach (deviation from environmental standards) to be such a break
with traditional policy values that it requested an experimental status for
the assigned projects, and an independent state committee was asked to
80 Gert de Roo

evaluate the outcomes of the project. In 2001 and 2003, this committee1
presented its results (C&E Evaluation Committee 2001, 2003). On the
basis of these evaluations, three actual City & Environment projects will
be discussed here. The evaluations made by the C&E Evaluation
Committee will also be discussed. Although the City & Environment
project is still on-going, the experiments and the evaluations based on
them provide insight into the different problems each location faces, and
solutions can be found in a comprehensive and customised approach.
Scheveningen Harbour. The Hague is overcrowded. It is running
out of space for new housing, but the demand for housing remains high.
Faced with this situation, the city council began to look for sites within
the city itself. One of these locations was Scheveningen Harbour. It was
decided that the harbour should retain its function as much as possible,
while new housing would be built around it, and industry and recreation
would also be encouraged. National legislation would not allow such
redevelopment because the permitted noise level would be exceeded.
Now that the municipality has the opportunity to apply Stage 3 (relaxing
of environmental legislation) of the City & Environment approach, new
opportunities have been created. The harbour will make an attractive
living environment for a large number of people, which will compensate
for the high level of noise. Although ‘excessive’ noise is regarded as
natural for the harbour, future residents will be informed in advance
about excessive environmental load.
IJmuiden North. The districts of Old IJmuiden North are located
close to the chimneys of the Hoogovens iron and steel plant. The fact
that these districts lie within the industrial noise contours, and are close
to the port, makes it very difficult to upgrade the physical environment
and liveability of the area: ‘the main problems IJmuiden North faces are
an obsolete and imbalanced housing stock, a lack of green space and
playgrounds and noise and air pollution’ (VROM et al. 1999).
Furthermore, IJmuiden North has lost some of its original character. In
IJmuiden North, six projects have been set up, corresponding to the six
neighbourhoods. All those involved have been invited to propose a range
of new ideas for a development memorandum. Suggestions have been
made for each of the neighbourhoods. According to the Dutch Ministry
of Housing, Spatial Planning and Environment, the widening of the
scope of the project has involved more parties in the project (VROM et
al. 1999). Although discussions became more protracted as a result, the
approach was more thorough. The implementation of selected projects
began recently, with the full agreement of all the parties involved.

1
Of which the author of this Chapter is the Vice Chairman
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 81

Almelo. The station area of Almelo, close to the town centre, is in

desperate need of reconstruction. The buildings of a former textile
factory occupy much of the area. With the exception of listed buildings,
most of these buildings will be demolished. The Kerkelanden district,
located along the railway track, has long been a problem area in need of
urgent attention. The residents there do not feel that they belong to the
town. The shunting area forms an effective physical barrier, despite the
recent construction of a tunnel, and people do not feel safe. However, the
development of new activities has been delayed because of railway
activities. The municipal authority of Almelo regards rail traffic as the
main problem for the whole area. The passing trains and shunting cause
noise and vibration, and the transport of hazardous substances is a risk to
the surrounding area. Diesel fumes also cause odour nuisance in the
immediate vicinity. The nuisance problems have hindered the
construction of housing. The selection of the area for a City &
Environment experiment opened up new perspectives. Dutch Railways
are involved in the experiment in order to help resolve the main
problems. Possible solutions are ‘quiet periods at night, prohibition of
heavy consignments and shunting activities through the town at those
times, relocation of the container terminal to an out-of-town site, a noise
barrier on the railway side of Kerkelanden, increased social diversity,
improve liveability and relax environmental legislation. In addition, a
fly-over will probably be built over the railway to make access to the city
centre easier and safer’ (VROM et al. 1999).
Although the individual City & Environment projects will retain
their experimental status until 2004, the results from these 3 and the
other 22 City & Environment projects are considered positive enough to
turn the City & Environment three-step-approach into generic
legislation. The task of the C&E Evaluation Committee is to advise the
Dutch Minister of the Environment in his report to Parliament on the
effects and effectiveness of the City & Environment approach, before the
end of 2004. In its first evaluation (2001), the Committee reported on the
effectiveness of local policy in achieving optimum liveability in each of
the local projects. The report was based on a comparative study of the 25
projects, focussing on what the projects would have achieved with and
without the possibility of the City & Environment three-step-approach,
taking various indicators into account. One conclusion is that deviation
from environmental standards can be seen as a successful push factor for
starting the project and finding creative solutions. Eventually – and
surprisingly – almost none of the projects needed to deviate from the
standards: environmental issues are considered in the spatial-planning
process much earlier than is usually the case, resulting in a creative
82 Gert de Roo

process at the beginning of the project. On the other hand, the decision-
making procedure for deviating from national environmental standards
as proposed by the Dutch ministry proved to be needlessly complicated
(C&E Evaluation Committee 2001).
Given the political intentions to turn the City & Environment
approach into generic legislation, the Committee’s second evaluation
(2003) had a much wider scope. It no longer focused on individual
projects but on the consistencies of the policy system as a whole in
relation to proposed changes. The Committee’s aim is to identify the
opportunities and constraints created by implementing deviations from
existing legislation. One of the main questions is the nature of the
relationship between conventional environmental standards (generic and
top-down) and liveability in the sense of an area-specific, comprehensive
approach under the responsibility of local authorities. The Committee
has concluded that both mechanisms are valuable, and it would be wise
to give local authorities the opportunity to choose which mechanism they
prefer. In the first case, regulations set by central government will be
followed to adapt the national content-related policy framework. The
second mechanism involves building on the assumption that a tailor-
made, comprehensive and area-oriented strategy will give a more
satisfying result, and the local authority will have to develop its own
policy. In those situations, the Committee’s advice to the government is
to establish a process-related framework that will help local authorities
to achieve the best possible outcome in terms of liveability. This could
mean that local authorities will have to justify their decision to deviate
from national legislation, reflect upon their approach from a strategic
perspective, publicise the current environmental quality of the area and
the quality they are aiming for, and monitor and evaluate the results of
their local approach, etc. (C&E Evaluation Committee 2003).

7 Reflections: beyond the City and Environment experiments

Partly as a result of the City & Environment experiments, there has been
a shift in Dutch environmental policy away from the centrally imposed,
quantitative standards and prescribed procedures, towards a policy based
on liveability (De Roo 1999). The central government still sets
environmental standards, but they are no longer the only solution. Now,
local authorities can decide whether to implement the national
guidelines. If they decide not to do so, they will have to formulate their
own well thought-out policy based on the complexity of the issue in
question. This policy will not only include a new set of standards that is
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 83

better suited to local conditions, but must also be embedded in a

location-specific strategic context. However, this shift towards local
policymaking also has a down side (De Roo 2003).
As long as local authorities implement centrally imposed
environmental standards according to rules set by central government,
the strategy and its consequences are clear to everyone, as well as the
roles of the various actors. In such cases, central government has the
initiative. Most important, the rules are top-down, generic, and explicitly
clear to everyone.
Today, local authorities need a more flexible and local policy to
solve the difficulties they face. If authorities place local conflicts in a
wider perspective, there will be consequences. In the first place, all local
authorities will have to establish a new policy framework to replace
centralised planning strategy. The new strategy should relate conflict-
related knowledge to a more abstract view of local environmental
planning. It should also relate to other issues, which are partially
interwoven with the topic concerned, and objectives based on the wider
perspective must be well defined. Experience has shown that initiatives
like the City & Environment project require a substantial investment in
knowledge, time and people in order for local strategies to work in areas
that include the ‘grey’ environment (De Roo 2003, E&C Evaluation
Committee 2001, 2003).
There is much to learn from the experiments. Although the City
& Environment experiments are still in full swing, Brands and Aquarius
conclude that area-specific policy actually works. ‘It is innovative,
transcends boundaries and has produced results. The area-specific
approach provides an opportunity to take measures that are tailored
precisely to the problems of a specific area. All parties are brought
together and gain an understanding of each other’s viewpoints and
interests’ (Brands and Aquarius 1999).
Experience shows that the approach had a catalytic effect, and
stakeholders are prepared to depart from their ‘fixed’ standpoints to
search for solutions. In the majority of experiments, it has not been
necessary to relax environmental standards. In addition, the project also
shows that integrating spatial planning and environmental policy leads to
win-win situations. Improved environmental quality and more efficient
use of spatial resources are the result of taking more possibilities into
consideration. According to Brands and Aquarius (1999): ‘In the past it
was more difficult to combine these targets and we have made sub-
optimal solutions. In the field of instruments we learn that in most cases
an exception of regulations is not always needed’.
84 Gert de Roo

Liveability is the common denominator when implementing the

experiments. Area-specific policy is designed to bridge the gap between
the actual and desired quality of the environment. Quality-of-life aspects
need to be seen in relation to each other. Overall quality-of-life is
important, so what is required is an integrated solution with an optimum
rather than a maximum result. This no longer means conforming to a
single standard but improving the overall quality of the environment.
This contrasts with the ‘old’ approach designed to achieve a maximum,
predefined quality standard for one aspect of the environment. If total
quality is to be improved, concessions have to be made. These
concessions must result in a comprehensive policy rather than policy
based on single standards based on a maximum result. Environmental
policy needs to be part of an integrated policy for urban development
(De Roo 2003).
The City & Environment project supports this way of thinking. It
is based on shared responsibility, an area-specific approach and
integrated policy. This project aims to look beyond standards. The
possibility of relaxing environmental standards serves as an incentive to
think more in terms of quality (possibilities), and less in terms of
standards (constraints). The City & Environment project tests the
flexibility of current legislation. The aim is to create a satisfactory policy
framework at the local level and to stimulate communication and co-
ordination between and within the various authorities. Co-operation is
the key-factor in the City & Environment project. It also stimulates
decentralisation and deregulation. The theory is that local authorities are
more than capable of working with all the parties involved in order to
strike a balance between all the relevant interests. The experiments
therefore prove that municipal authorities are capable of restructuring
urban areas themselves, with only minimal support from national
government (C&E Evaluation Committee 2003).
Equally important is the new approach required in the local
organisation and the question of which other parties to involve in the
decision-making process. Often, authorities are no longer in the position
to make decisions entirely on their own. Many interests are involved, and
other parties must therefore be involved in the decision-making process
so that it is effective and efficient. This means that the authorities will
have to move away from their traditional role, which will change. The
City & Environment project, among others, is seen as a step in the right
direction towards implementing most of these changes and ideas.
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 85

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88 Gert de Roo
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 89

5
Safeguarding Water Interests in Dutch
Land Use Planning

Marius Schwartz and Henk Voogd

1 Introduction

Land-use planning is a process that involves many actors. Modern land-

use plans are generally the product of a complex deliberation process
that involves both internal consensus building by various municipal
authorities and external consensus building with other public and private
interest groups. The process usually focuses on parties that have a stake
in the plan and the power to obstruct or delay its implementation.
Communicative planning theory assumes that these interests are
balanced by discourses that result in socially acceptable outcomes
(Innes, 1996; Woltjer, this volume). In practice, however, interest groups
differ in their power and ability to influence outcomes. Strong economic
interests can, then, easily ‘overrule’ weaker interests, for example
relating to heritage qualities or environmental values. The public interest
is therefore strengthened in statutory planning by legislation, such as the
requirement to perform Environmental Impact Assessment (EIA) for
proposals for infrastructure projects beyond a certain scale (see Chapter
12). A similar development has been taking place since the mid-1990s in
Dutch planning with respect to safeguarding interests relating to water.
The urgency for water authorities to apply spatial measures in
flood protection has become especially clear in the wake of the flooding
in the past decade. In 1993 and 1995, the substantially increased
discharges of the rivers Rhine and Meuse caused serious problems:
200,000 people had to be evacuated, although in the end, the land
90 Marius Schwartz and Henk Voogd

protected by dikes was not inundated. In 1998, heavy rainfall exceeded

the capacity of the water discharge system and large parts of the regional
water systems in flooded areas (Commissie Waterbeheer, 2000). These
floods and the threat of flooding stimulated the public and political
pressure to take preventive measures as far as possible, and spatial
measures were presented as an inevitable step (V&W, 2000). This
supported initiatives by water authorities in this field. These initiatives
were initially based on the need to protect water resources (Farjon,
1991). The (near) flooding made them incorporate flood protection as
well. As a consequence, two new instruments have been introduced that
increase the influence of water authorities in municipal land-use
planning. These instruments are the ‘water opportunity map’ (in Dutch:
waterkansenkaart) and the ‘water assessment test’ (watertoets), which
will be explored in more detail in this chapter.
We begin with a brief overview of the institutional structure of
water management in the Netherlands. In addition, the importance of the
relationship between land use and water management will be discussed.
The water assessment test (WAT) and the water opportunity map
(WOM), which will be dealt with subsequently, reflect this. The chapter
ends with a concluding section.

2 Water Management in the Netherlands

Water management in the Netherlands is the shared responsibility of the

central government, twelve provinces and fifty-five water boards
(Bressers et al., 1995; Kuks, 1998; Perdok and Wessel, 1998). Water
policy is drawn up and implemented at both the national level and the
level of the provinces and water boards.
At the national level, the Ministry of Transport, Public Works
and Water Management (abbreviated in Dutch as V&W) coordinates
water policies. This ministry includes the 200-year-old ‘Rijkswaterstaat’,
(Directorate-General for Public Works and Water Management), which
takes care of all state waters and the national water infrastructure. The
main navigable rivers and canals, the territorial seas, and all coastal
waters and estuaries fall under the jurisdiction of the Rijkswaterstaat.
The remaining regional waters fall under the jurisdiction of the water
boards, with the exception of regional navigable waters, which come
under the jurisdiction of the provincial and sometimes the municipal
authorities. While water quantity management at the national level is
supervised by V&W, responsibility for water quality management is
shared with the Ministry of Housing, Spatial Planning and the
Environment (VROM), mainly regarding water quality standards
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 91

although it is still coordinated by Rijkswaterstaat.

Since the 13th century, the water boards have been responsible
for the construction, maintenance and operational management of local
and regional flood protection and water management. The structure of
water boards is based on a profit-payment-participation principle, i.e.
those having an interest in water management may participate, and must
pay for water services in proportion to their interest. The general council
of a water board comprises farmers, landowners, owners of buildings,
local residents, and representatives from industry. The Dutch
Constitution (1983) and the Water Board Act (1992) have charged the
water boards with the operational tasks for local and regional flood
protection and water management. Consequently, water boards are the
most important institutions with regard to operational water management
in the Netherlands (Bressers et al., 2001).

3 Water and Land Use

In Dutch practice, land-use policies often conflict with water

management policies (Schwartz, 1998). Two lines of argument illustrate
the need for more effective integration of land use and water planning,
i.e. the safety argument and the resources argument.
In the Low Countries, the safety argument has prevailed for many
centuries because a considerable part of the land is reclaimed from the
sea. In river basins, flooding is usually the result of heavy rainfall, or
snow melting relatively quickly, both leading to abnormally heavy
discharges of river water. In coastal regions, flooding is caused by heavy
storms and high tides. To decrease the risk of flooding, the same
technical measures are taken throughout the world: construction of dikes,
dams, movable barriers, houses on stakes and boats, etc. Although the
risk of flooding has decreased, climate change and soil subsidence are
continuous stimuli for additional measures.
The resources argument is another reason for improving the
integration of water and land-use policies. Evidently, spatial
development is facilitated by the physical resources land and water. In
the past, the availability of water for drinking, farming, producing and
navigation has been a precondition for spatial development. At the same
time, spatial development can affect water resources in many ways.
Groundwater levels may fall due to over-exploitation, water may be
polluted by industrial, residential and farming activities, flow direction
and speed may be altered by the construction of infrastructure and built-
up areas. All this can affect the resources used by humans and
92 Marius Schwartz and Henk Voogd

ecosystems. In order to protect water resources, the impact of spatial

development must be assessed.
Several types of measure can be taken to reduce the risk of
flooding and protect water resources. These measures can be technical or
spatial. Technical measures include the construction of dikes, dams and
barriers, extra discharge channels and the reshaping of a river basin or
coastline. Spatial measures address land use, and include the exclusion
of built-up areas from sensitive locations, changes in land use so that the
area can also be used as an artificial water basin when necessary, etc.
Modern water management is based on a combination of
technical and spatial measures. This is an international phenomenon (see
e.g. Thompson 1999). Technical measures alone are not sufficient to
prevent floods and protect water resources. Moreover, spatial measures
may be more cost-effective in the long term (CPB, 2000). Combinations
of both measures can be found in Dutch water management. Two
different guiding principles, referred to as ‘trios’, are used to prioritise
specific measures. The trio for water quality is: prevent the pollution of
water and wastewater, isolate polluted waters, and discharge the water
into the sewer system or surface water. In short, protect – isolate –
discharge. The trio for quantity management is: collect water in aquifers
and higher parts of the water system, hold it in lower parts of the water
system (designed for emergencies), and discharge it into a downstream
water system. In short, collect–hold–discharge. The sequence of
measures indicates their priority. They can be spatial measures designed,
for example, to change land use in order to (a) prevent fast run-off from
surfaced areas, (b) enable and safeguard the storage and discharge
capacity of the water system, and (c) prevent damage to built-up areas
downstream.
There are at least two important reasons for strengthening the
position of water interests in land-use planning:
• Spatial measures based on water resources and risk management are
beyond the jurisdiction of the water boards.
Spatial policy could address future land-use developments that conflict
with water management policy.

4 Water Assessment

Until recently, Dutch water boards focused heavily on the technical

aspects of water management. Obviously, a broader perspective is
required if they are to function more effectively and efficiently. As
illustrated above, this also involves land-use measures. However, the
legal situation in the Netherlands is such that water boards are unable to
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 93

manage spatial measures independently from other public authorities and

private stakeholders. Evidently, water authorities can make their wishes
clear to urban planners, who may then incorporate them into their spatial
policies, but this simple view neglects the reality – or rather, the
complexity – of spatial planning. Spatial planners have to deal with
many interests apart from those relating to water. It is therefore
important that the water boards are formally involved in land-use
planning. This is realised by means of the water assessment test (WAT),
which was introduced in 2002. The WAT is a general framework for
assessing land-use proposals by water authorities. The WAT framework
consists of a checklist and a clarification of the roles of the actors
involved. The framework includes all relevant water management
aspects (flood protection, water quality and depletion). Depending on the
location, all aspects must be considered by the authority responsible for
land-use planning. It is therefore embedded in a planning process that
provides for early consultation, advice, consideration and final
judgements regarding water management aspects in spatial plans and
decisions.
All government authorities are required to use the WAT:
• It is an obligatory assessment of spatial plans that determines the
consequences for water management
• If water management priorities (collect, store, discharge) cannot be
realised, explanations must be provided and and compensating
measures taken
• Compensation and mitigation measures are part of the land-use
decisions relating to the spatial plan. The cost must, in principle, be
borne by the initiator.

The WAT distinguishes three types of actors: the initiator, the advisor
and the reviewer (Table 1). The initiator is the land-use authority that
wishes to implement a land-use change, e.g. the development of urban
areas, infrastructure, and natural environments. This can be a local,
regional or national authority.

However, the initiator can also be a private organisation. In such cases,

the responsible public authority (municipal, provincial or national)
performs the WAT. The advisor is the water authority with jurisdiction:
the water board, groundwater authority or the national ‘Rijkswaterstaat’.
The reviewer is the authority that, according to urban and regional
planning legislation, should review land-use decisions. For example, the
94 Marius Schwartz and Henk Voogd

provincial authority reviews land-use decisions taken by municipal

authorities.

Initiator Advisor Reviewer

1. Land-use development
initiative
2. Review and decision on
‘relevance for water’
3. Presents the initiative 4. Assesses all aspects
to the advisor relating to water
5. Proposes mitigation
and compensation
measures
7. Considers advice 6. Advises the initiator
8. Decides on initiative
for land-use development
9. Draws up land-use 10. Reviews and
decision, ‘water clause’ decides on
procedure and
contents of land-
use decision
11. Implements decision:
- Review & modification
- Licensing & construction
Table 1. The role of Initiators, Advisors and Reviewers in the WAT

Most types of land-use plans and decisions (e.g. zoning, regional

and infrastructure plans) can include a WAT. A WAT can be used to
review not only new plans, but also revisions and dispensations. The
determining factor is the relevance of the plan or decision in terms of
water resources. The exact meaning of ‘relevance’ is the decision of the
advisor: the water authority. The advisor bases this judgement on the
specific circumstances in the water system. This implies (1) that advisors
must clarify its vision on aspects within their jurisdiction that relate to
water, and 2) that initiators must be aware of these aspects and decide
whether they should be applied to the land-use plan or decision. A result
might be that initiators, to be on the safe side, send all land-use plans and
decisions to the advisor.

5 The Water Opportunity Map

Water boards are traditionally inclined to focus on technical aspects of

water management. The growing awareness of the relevance of spatial
measures has led to a more proactive approach by water boards with
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 95

respect to land-use planning. The Water Opportunity Map (WOM) is

part of this development.
The WOM occurs in different forms; in fact there is no such
thing as the WOM. Several types of WOM can be distinguished (Van
Dijk, 2001; Vlist & Schouffoer, 2001), including:
• WOMs that indicate the suitability for a given land use (with a sub-
type that focus exclusively on urban land use, water storage, or
combined land use)
• WOMs that present a vision of the future
• WOMs that combine suitability and a vision.
Visualisation is, of course, an important aspect of all WOMs, which
Fopma (2001) defines in general as ‘an information and communication
instrument for land-use planning that visualises land use possibilities and
impossibilities regarding sustainable water management’.
A WOM is a set of maps and explanatory notes. The maps are
based on water system information, i.e. hydrology, ground and surface-
water flow and direction, soil conditions (unprotected aquifers, soil
material). This information is linked to types of land use, each of which
has specific preconditions for levels, volumes and quality of ground and
surface water. By combining the water system conditions and
preconditions for land use, different types of land use can be combined
and allocated to given areas. Based on the water system conditions and
current land use, views on preferred land use for the future can be
developed.
The explanatory notes relating to a WOM include background
information on how it was made, and information about its relevance for
decision-making and further procedures relating to land use.
Figure 1 is an example of a WOM that indicates the suitability of
a given area for urban development. Spatial reservations are indicated on
the map, e.g. buffer areas for storm water, to be used during periods of
heavy rainfall (shown in red). The WOM also shows nature development
areas (green) and the lowest areas of a polder (purple). This WOM was
produced jointly by the Delfland water board, the municipal authority of
Delft, and several other municipal authorities.
96 Marius Schwartz and Henk Voogd

Figure 1. Example of a WOM:

Suitability for Urban Develop-
ment

WOM initiatives were soon taken throughout the Netherlands.

The popularity of this new instrument clearly illustrates the fact that the
water boards needed a tool to deal with land-use processes. Provincial
and national authorities also support this instrument, and sometimes
request a WOM.
WOMs are usually drawn up by one or more water boards, often
in cooperation with water specialists from other authorities such as the
provincial government, and, incidentally, municipalities and regional
branches of the national government. In almost all applications, private
consultants have supported the WOM (Van Dijk, 2001). Currently, a
WOM has no legal status. Ideas vary as to its most appropriate status:
should it take the form of legislation, be incorporated in regional plans,
become part of water authority decision-making, or left to civil servants?
The question of whether and how authorities should be involved is a
relevant one for the WOM process: WOMs produced jointly with
municipalities will probably be used as input for municipal spatial
planning more frequently than if there was no cooperation. The extra
efforts invested in preparing this kind of WOM could well bring benefits
later in the planning process.
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 97

6 Discussion

Thus far, water-opportunity mapping has lacked a general framework

drawn up by national or regional authorities (jointly or individually).
This has resulted in a wide variety of approaches. A WOM is a starting
point for influencing decision-making on land use, but there must be a
follow-up. A WOM is supposed to be a basis for negotiations with land-
use authorities, for example during the assessment of a land-use decision
by means of a WAT.
The drafting and use of a WOM are two aspects that can be
distinguished in the strategy relating to land-use authorities. The
strategic importance of a WOM rests not only in its findings, but also in
the process itself. The process is more useful than the findings.
Producing a WOM actually involves an evaluation process. It is a
learning experience and can help participants to deal with other
challenges and contexts. The process of producing a WOM familiarises
actors with land-use and water issues. The resulting maps are always
based on arbitrary findings. Patton (1998, p. 228) reminds us that
findings have a very short lifespan. They soon become outdated because
the world changes so quickly,. Specific findings have a small window of
relevance, so what remains after the WOM exercise is the process.
The delegation of roles and responsibilities among the various
authorities is a key element of the WAT. The WAT is based on the
responsibility of the land-use authority with regard to decision-making
on land use, as laid down in the legislation on urban and regional
planning. The water authorities are responsible for protecting and
managing water resources. Because the water board is seen to have an
advisory role – and is not regarded as an assessor with final decision-
making powers – the implication is that land-use authorities can decide
to give their own responsibilities priority over the responsibilities of the
water authorities. In such cases, land-use authorities must explain this
‘subordination’, otherwise the assessor will find in favour of the initiator.
A WAT emphasises the interdependence of water authorities and
land-use authorities, and is designed to encourage co-operation by
clarifying the different roles in decision-making relating to land use. In
addition, the WAT provides a checklist of water themes for
incorporation in actual processes. The advantage of this approach is that
responsibilities are clearly separate. Land-use authorities take the final
decision on whether or not to incorporate aspects relating to water
management. Water managers advise on how these aspects can be
incorporated, using the WAT checklist as a guideline. If the aspects are
not incorporated, and water managers are held accountable for
98 Marius Schwartz and Henk Voogd

shortcomings, they can point to the responsibility of the land-use

authorities. In doing so, water management is subordinated to land-use
management, although this must be explicitly justified. The water
authorities, of course, are faced with the problem that they will be held
accountable for inadequate protection and management of resources.
A disadvantage might be that focusing on responsibilities is not
conducive to co-operation, but rather stimulates opponents to adopt a
‘wait and see’ approach. Neither is the fact that initiators have to finance
of mitigation and compensation measures conducive to a co-operative
approach. This is an undesirable situation for water authorities, as
responsible and dependent authorities.

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Projectgroep Watertoets(2001), Bestuurlijke notitie watertoets en Handreiking
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 99

Watertoets, waarborg voor water in ruimtelijke plannen en besluiten

[Governmental memorandum on the safeguard of water in spatial plans and
decisions], Ministry of Transport, Public Works and Water Management, The
Hague.
Schwartz, M. (1998), Coherence and divergence in Dutch physical planning and water
management planning, in Phillip Kivell, Peter Roberts, Nigel Watson (Eds.),
Environment, Planning and Land Use, Ashgate, Aldershot, 85-99.
Thompson, S. A. (1999): Water use, management and planning in the United States,
Academic Press, San Diego
Van Dijk, J. M. (2001), Waterkansenkaarten, Inventarisatie en analyse van water-
kansenkaarten in Nederland [Water opportunity maps, inventory and analyses
of water opportunity maps in the Netherlands], RIZA, Lelystad, report RIZA
2001.010.
Vlist, M. J. v. d. & Schouffoer, H. (2001), Waterkansenkaart [Water opportunity map],
Stedebouw & Ruimtelijke Ordening, vol. 82, no. 2, pp. 18-22.
V&W (2000), Anders omgaan met water, waterbeleid in de 21e eeuw [A different
approach for dealing with water, water policy for the 21st century], Ministry of
Transport, Public Works and Water Management, The Hague.
100 Marius Schwartz and Henk Voogd
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 101

6
Integrated Coastal Zone Management

Gerard Linden

1 Introduction

Through the ages, the coastline, the area where the land meets the sea,
has attracted a wide diversity of human activities in a unique setting. The
coastal zone provides space, food, water, natural resources, energy and
recreation for a highly diverse user community. Currently, more than
half of the world’s population lives in coastal zones and depends directly
on coastal resources for agriculture and seafood.
Coastal ecosystems are highly vulnerable and productive.
Healthy coastal wetlands provide a buffer against the impacts of climate
change and rising sea levels, and are thus of immediate interest to the
safety of people living in low-lying areas. The shallow coastal waters are
the sources of most marine life, including commercial fish and shellfish
stocks, and are therefore of direct interest to man.
Coastal problems may be linked to the use of these resources and
activities such as fisheries, extraction of non-renewable resources,
tourism, agriculture and aquaculture, residential and commercial real-
estate development, marine transportation, military activities, nature
conservation, etc. Due to population growth, ongoing industrialisation
and the over-exploitation of marine resources, the number of conflicts
between stakeholders with differing interests is increasing and
endangering the sustainable use of coastal resources.1
Interest in the specific problems of the coastal zone has been
stimulated by a number of international conferences such as the Earth
1
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102 Gerard Linden

Summit in 1992. Chapter 17 of its Agenda 21 is dedicated to the

‘Protection of the Oceans, All kinds of Seas, including Closed and Semi-
Closed Seas, and Coastal Areas and the Protection, Rational Use and
development of Their Living Resources’. Since the summit, there have
been increasing calls for integrated coastal zone management, and the
vulnerability of the coastal zone in all its aspects has been discussed in
many international scientific and political forums. The implementation
plan for the World Summit on Sustainable Development (2002), for
example, states that integrated, multidisciplinary and multi-sectoral
coastal and ocean management at national level should be promoted, and
that coastal states should be encouraged and assisted in the development
of ocean policies and mechanisms for integrated coastal-zone
management. Furthermore, the plan states that countries in the
developing world should be assisted in co-ordinating policies and
programmes at regional and sub-regional level that are oriented towards
the conservation and sustainable management of fisheries resources.
These states should also be supported in implementing integrated coastal
zone management plans, including the promotion of sustainable coastal
and small-scale fishing activities and, where appropriate, the
development of related infrastructure.

Combining the above requires an approach that emphasises conflict

resolution and consensus-building in a way that differs from traditional
land-use planning. The development of coastal zone should obviously be
based upon a proper understanding of the processes in and stakeholders
in coastal zones, supported by a sound environmental-management
approach and socioeconomic and spatial planning skills to obtain an
acceptable balance between short-term benefits and long-term assets.
This integral approach is called Integrated Coastal Zone
Management (ICZM), a continuous process that does not dictate but
rather steers approaches to a broad range of social and environmental
issues with a view to attaining sustainable development in coastal areas.
ICZM uses a ‘toolbox’ of measures to address a situation-dependent set
of spatial, social and/or environmental problems. It is, in a sense, an
umbrella term that highlights location and direction, rather than defining
a clear and unambiguous management approach. That is why Integrated
Coastal Zone Management is an indispensable extension of traditional
approaches to land-use planning that requires a specific approach in
research and education.
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 103

2 The Coastal Zone

Coastal zones are situated around the geographical location where the
sea meets the land: the coastline. The sea and land areas that must be
delineated in order to analyse coastal problems clearly depend on the
type of problem under consideration. Planning for sea defences can be
carried out over relatively small areas along the coast (the coastal strip),
but pollution from land-based industries might involve an area extending
hundreds of kilometres upstream. Similar demarcation problems arise at
sea: oil spillage from ships or drilling rigs, wind farms that can be seen
from land, dredging for minerals, and shelter for migratory birds all
involve specific geographical factors.
Following the adoption of Agenda 21, coastal problems must be
seen in their proper perspective, i.e. the entire area encompassing land
and water. Five main zones can be distinguished:2 inland areas that
affect the sea mainly via rivers and non-point sources of pollution,
coastal lands (i.e. wetlands, marshes, dunes etc.) where human activity is
concentrated and directly affects adjacent waters, coastal waters
(generally estuaries, lagoons and shallow waters) where the effects of
land-based activities are dominant, offshore waters mainly out to the
edge of national jurisdiction (200 nautical miles off shore), and high seas
beyond the limit of national jurisdiction.
Notwithstanding the above general definition of coastal zones,
the case-specific delineation of a coastal zone will depend on the issues
at hand. This implies that the boundaries of a coastal zone can be defined
for any given issue. For example, watershed boundaries could be the best
way to address sedimentation and flooding, while administrative
boundaries may be more appropriate for treating urban pollution
problems. Sources of negative impact, such as agriculture-related
pollution, erosion and silting from excessive logging, and pollution by
industrial and other human activity might be found anywhere in a
watershed. A watershed may extend over thousands of square
kilometres, can be managed by a large number of authorities at different
levels of government and will, in many cases, transcend conventional
boundaries.

2
See icm.noaa.gov/story/icm_inte.html
104 Gerard Linden

Environmental Drivers Pressures Spatial Scale Response at

Issues/Impacts EU level

Eutrophication Agriculture, Various Most seas. Water

urbanisation, sources of Relatively less Framework
industry pollution (N, important in Directive,
P), waste North Atlantic Nitrates
emissions Ocean, and the Directive,
Norwegian, Urban Waste
Barents and Water
White Seas Directive
Over-fishing, Fisheries, Fish catches, All seas, Common
loss of population fisheries especially North Fisheries
biodiversity growth equipment Sea, Wadden Policy
Sea, Black Sea,
Barents, North
Sea
Deterioration of Agriculture, Waste Mediterranean, Bathing
bacteriological urbanisation, emissions, Black Sea, North Directive
quality, health industry agricultural Sea
impacts run-off

Habitat loss Agriculture, Habitat European regions Birds and

tourism, conversion with high tourism Habitat
Rising sea (e.g. drainage), and intensive Directives
level ports and agriculture, low-
tourist lying coasts and
development, deltas (rising sea
coastal erosion level)
Toxic Industry, Emissions of All seas, Water
contamination urbanisation, contaminants especially around Directive,
(loss of transport (heavy metals, major European Dangerous
biodiversity, synthetic estuaries (less so Substances
health risk) organic in Barents and Directive,
compounds), Norwegian Seas) Seveso II
contaminated Directive,
sediment IPCC Directive
Ecological Maritime Dumping, Mediterranean, Joint
impacts of oil transport shipping Black Sea, Declaration
spills accidents Caspian Sea,
Norwegian Sea,
North Sea

Table 1. Major environmental issues in European coastal waters and

associated rivers, and responses at European level in the form of EU
directives (From Stanners and Bourdeau, 1991)
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 105

3 Problems facing Integrated Coastal Zone Management

The vulnerability of coastal ecosystems is one of the main problems

facing integrated coastal zone management. This is why most ICZM
projects are based on an ecosystem approach and apply appropriate
scientific methodologies that focus on levels of biological organization
and consider the essential processes and interaction between organisms
and their environment. The ecosystem approach recognizes humans as
an integral component of ecosystems (Convention on Biological
Diversity, 1992).

The five main coastal areas distinguished basically correspond to the

different types of coastal ecosystem, i.e. marshes, deltas, estuaries,
mangrove swamps, sea grass beds, coral reefs and lagoons, beaches and
islands (see also Clark, 1996, 82). Coastal activities, such as industry,
ports, dredging, tourism, agriculture, and civil-engineering artefacts such
as hard sea defences can have a detrimental impact on these ecosystems
by causing pollution, influencing existing sediment flows, etc. This
means that activities in and around coastal areas can inflict damage on
the estuarine and sea areas, thereby causing the degradation of existing
ecosystems. The importance of these ecosystems has led to the
recognition of the need for an ecosystem approach to the management
and planning of coastal zones.
Table 1 depicts the main environmental impacts in relation to the
activities, the resulting pressures, their spatial extent and the response at
European level. As the table shows, the European Community is
actively involved in creating a legal framework to protect its coastal
areas. It is also evident that each coastal zone has its own characteristics
and vulnerabilities.
Apart from the negative effects on the coastal environment,
conflicts can also be expected between the different uses of coastal areas
and the stakeholders involved. Obviously, the differences between
people drilling for oil and conservationists will differ, as will those of
tourists and environmentalists. A difference of interest may also exist
between local government, provincial or national authorities and their
agencies, and between governments.
Another source of problems is the probabilistic and intrinsically
stochastic nature of natural processes and events that impact on coastal
zones, such as the frequency distribution of the quantity and quality of
freshwater inflows to the ICZM area and the frequency distribution of
the intensity and duration of storm events and other natural phenomena.
106 Gerard Linden

Depending on the local situation, the rate and magnitude of natural

processes (e.g. shoreline erosion and accretion, ecological succession,
land subsidence or uplift) can play an important role. ICZM usually has
to be realised with limited management resources, due to society’s
multiple demands for products and services other than those deriving
from the management of coastal resources. The nature and
comprehensiveness of ICZM creates uncertainties about all the variables
involved, for example government policies and programmes,
demographic and economic conditions and trends, social tastes and
attitudes, external and internal demands on coastal resources,
technological changes, and factor prices. Last but not least, ICZM must
take into account potential climate change and its long-term effects on
coastal ecosystems and human activities in the ICZM zone.

4 Spatial Planning and Government Jurisdiction over Coastal Zones

Coastal-zone management must deal with diverse and conflicting

demands on the coastal area, which originate within and outside the
designated management area (icm.noaa.gov.story/icm_mgt.html).
Almost everywhere, population increases are accompanied by an
increased demand for economic development within the coastal area, for
example the reclamation of land from shallow near-shore waters for
various purposes. An integral approach to planning and management is
called for because all the different interests and governmental contexts
discussed above must be considered simultaneously.
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 107

Figure 1. Scale of spatial plans for a number of European countries

bordering the North Sea

Depending on the form of government in a country, the extent of spatial

plans extending towards the state boundary (12 nautical miles), as well
as the boundary of the exclusive economic zone, may differ considerably
(see Figure 1). Even within countries such as the UK, for example,
jurisdiction varies considerably (see Figure 2).
108 Gerard Linden

Figure 2. Jurisdiction of different UK authorities

The Netherlands is at present the only country bordering the North Sea
that has a spatial-development plan covering the Exclusive Economic
Zone (EEZ). There is an increasing realisation that the entire coastal
zone, including the EEZ, is in need of a comprehensive planning
approach (Linden and Voogd, 2003).

5 Integrated Coastal Zone Management

In the light of the above, it is obvious that Integrated Coastal Zone

Management (ICZM) involves a multiplicity of problems and problem
sources, and has to deal with many conflicting interests in an area that
usually has a vulnerable but highly productive ecosystem. The following
key questions must be addressed: does the scope of the definition
incorporate core physical interactions and provide a foundation for
resolving conflicts between major user groups? Which
groups/institutions should be involved, and do weaker groups require
support or external representation in order for their voices to be heard?
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 109

Do existing management systems provide the basis for effective resource

management, and what type of facilitation/mediation/negotiation process
is appropriate?
Given that all these aspects need to be considered
simultaneously, it is not surprising that different persons and institutions
define ICZM in a different way. For example, the European Commission
(1966) defines ICZM as follows: ‘a continuous process of administration
the general aim of which is to put into practice sustainable development
and conservation in coastal zones and to maintain their biodiversity. To
this end, ICZM seeks, through more efficient management, to establish
and maintain the best use and sustainable levels of development and
activity (use) in the coastal zone, and, over time, to improve the physical
status of the coastal environment’.
The integrated management element of ICZM is a continuous,
interactive, adaptive, participatory, consensus-building process that
comprises a set of related tasks. All the tasks must be carried out in order
to achieve a desired set of goals and objectives. ICZM involves a set of
substantive and procedural principles, a management strategy that
emphasises adaptation and feedback and the use of specific approaches,
methods and techniques.3 The various dimensions of integration must be
identified because the diversity of property rights, the diverging interests
of the separate levels of government, and the dissimilar missions of
government institutions in coastal areas mean that it is very difficult to
integrate management regimes. Notwithstanding these inherent
difficulties, the ICZM process is aimed at integration, and in particular
the integration of intersectoral, intergovernmental, science-management
and transboundary/international levels.
Intersectoral integration pertains to the horizontal integration of
coastal and marine sectors such as oil and gas development, fisheries,
coastal tourism, port development, heritage protection) and the
integration of coastal and marine sectors that affect the coastal and ocean
environment (e.g. agriculture, forestry and mining). Intersectoral
integration also addresses conflicts among government agencies in
different sectors.
Intergovernmental integration (or integration at different levels of
government: national, provincial, local) is desirable because each level
of government tends to have a different role and different perspectives,
and address different public needs. These differences often obstruct the
development of harmonised policy and implementation at national and
sub-national levels.

3
According to icm.noaa.gov/story/icm_intro.html.
110 Gerard Linden

Science-management integration, i.e. the integration of the

different disciplines, is important in coastal management because many
scientific disciplines are involved in effective Integrated Coastal Zone
Management. Obviously, the disciplines with a key role are
oceanography, sedimentology, marine biology, spatial planning,
participatory skills to involve user groups, economics, civil engineering,
sociology and management science.

Problems in coastal zones are not confined to national boundaries. An

integral international approach is therefore required when disputes arise
over fishing activities, transboundary pollution, shipping lanes and
marine parks, etc.
Since the establishment of the GESAMP (the joint Group of
Experts on Scientific Aspects of Marine Environmental Protection set up
by the IMO, FAO, UNESCO-IOC, WMO, WHO, IAEA, UN, and
UNEP), the emphasis on integrated management in ICZM programs has
shifted towards an interdisciplinary analysis of the major social,
institutional and environmental issues and options affecting a selected
coastal area, followed by a decision on the issues to be addressed within
a given period. A dynamic policy process should then be initiated that is
explicitly designed to evolve with experience, rather than an inflexible
plan that provides for a limited set of responses to immediate problems.
This requires the continuous improvement of the information base,
ongoing assessment of policies, administrative arrangements and options
for problem resolution, and a robust administrative system. The next step
is to provide a formalised governance structure and set of procedures to
provide continuity and maintain confidence in the management process.
At the same time, concern should be expressed for the equity issues
posed by existing methods of resource allocation and, finally, the
programme should aim to progress towards sustainable development and
therefore achieving a balance between development and conservation.
There are two sets of principles that guide ICZM (Cicin-Sain and
Knecht, 1990). One set relates to environment and development, while
the other set relates to the special characteristics of oceans and coasts.
Principles relating to environment and development pertain to the
interrelationship between these elements and sustainable development,
as expressed in equity principles, the right to development,
environmental safeguarding and a ‘polluter pays’ principle. Principles
relating to the special characteristics of oceans and coasts are based
primarily on the fact that the oceans are a public space, the biophysical
nature of coastal zones, and the use of coastal and ocean resources and
space. The biophysical nature of coastal zones derives from the fact that
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 111

it is a distinctive resource system that requires special management and

planning approaches, where water is the major integrating force. In
coastal zones, the significant interactions taking place across the land-
water boundary require that the whole system (i.e. upland and near-shore
waters) be recognized and managed as an integrated unit. Principles
relating to the use of coastal and ocean resources and space pertain
especially to the management of conflicts in coastal areas and the
development of guidelines for use and public participation.
According to Cicin-Sain and Knecht (1998) the common goals of
ICZM are: sustainable development of coastal and marine areas, the
reduction of the vulnerability of coastal areas and their inhabitants to
natural hazards, the sustainable well-being of coastal ecosystems,
sustainable quality of life in coastal communities, and the improvement
of governance processes.
ICZM is most likely to succeed if there is genuine public and
political support for finding a solution, if issues can be resolved with the
human and financial resources available, if solutions result in probable
net gains to most parties and if opportunities exist to mitigate the effects
on parties that do not benefit.4 A key element of ICZM is therefore the
design of institutional processes to accomplish this harmonisation in a
politically acceptable manner. ICZM is further facilitated when formal
arrangements (e.g. institutional, administrative, legal and financial) are
in place.
In order to be successful, an ICZM programme should ideally
operate within a closely integrated, coherent management framework
within a defined geographical area (Chua, 1999 op cit.
(icm.noaa.gov/story/icm_def.html)). Because coastal problems are
seldom confined to a single administrative or geographical area, but
usually transcend boundaries, there is an urgent need for a common
framework of this type. The common framework must transcend coastal
planning sectors in order to make economic and demographic
projections, develop future scenarios, and use similar analytical
techniques for analysing the cost and benefits of alternative management
strategies (icm.noaa.gov/story/icm_inte.html).

According to Chapter 17 of Agenda 21, the scope and process of ICZM

should include the identification of existing and projected uses of coastal
areas, and focus on their interactions and interdependencies while
concentrating on well-defined issues. In project planning and
implementation, preventive and precautionary approaches should be

4
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 112 Gerard Linden

applied, including prior assessment and the systematic observation of the

impacts of major projects. The development and application of methods
such as natural resource and environmental accounting, which reflect
changes in value resulting from the use of coastal and marine areas,
should be promoted. The individuals, groups and organizations
concerned should have access to relevant information and opportunities
for consultation and participation in planning and decision-making.
Table 2 provides an overview of relevant elements of coastal
management, divided into three main categories: Coastal Zone
Governance, Coastal Zone Management Tasks and Coastal Zone
Management instruments and capacities.

Coastal Zone Governance

Arrangements Objectives Ethics
Organisational Legal Tradition and Safety Integration
structure framework social norms Resources Harmonisation
Development Participation

Coastal Zone Management : Tasks

Problem Planning Implementation Evaluation
Definition
Research Data Policy Decision- Plan Operation Monitoring Assessment
Assessment Collection Development Making Execution and and Outlook
Maintenance
Coastal Zone Management: Instruments and Capacities
Education Ecological System analysis Decision Regulatory Operational Objective- Object-
and databases support and non- procedures oriented oriented
awareness systems regulatory monitoring evaluation
programmes measures scheme
Research Demographic Natural system Cost/benefit, Funding Enforcement Research Open
and socioeconomic multi- mechanisms maintenance and procedure
economic system criteria and hazard analysis with
statistics user functions evaluation management facilities stakeholders
management and users
system

Public Natural Multidisciplinary Open Guidelines Remote Public

participation resources co-operation planning sensing hearing
accounting procedures and GIS
with databases
stakeholders
and users

Table 2. The Elements of Coastal Zone Management

As can be concluded from an overview and description of tools needed

in the implementation or analysis of ICZM, ICZM has a well-equipped
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 113

toolbox at its disposal5. According to Olsen, Lowry et al., (1999) ICZM

can be evaluated in terms of performance, management capacity and
outcome. Performance pertains to the extent to which ICZM has been
implemented and the quality of the implementation. Management
capacity addresses the adequacy of structures and processes for
performing ICZM tasks and activities, while outcome evaluations aim to
assess the impacts in environmental and socioeconomic terms.

ICZM characteristics Indicator

Coastal Zone and Coastal population: % population living in coastal areas human
characteristics population within 100 km of coast. Coastal population density.
Population growth in coastal areas, etc. Relevant coastal habitats: area
(e.g., beaches/dunes, intertidal reefs, intertidal sand/mudflats,
mangroves, sea grasses, salt marshes, estuaries, algal beds, coral reefs
etc.) and loss of habitat area. Extent of coastal zone. Natural versus
altered land cover within 100 km of coastline. Coastline erosion. Public
access areas and area owned by public. Area of protected coastal areas
and protected marine areas.
Biodiversity Percent cover of key coastal habitats (e.g. dune vegetation, coral reef,
intertidal reef, salt marsh, mangrove, sea grass etc.). Species inventory
of key coastal habitats. Disturbance of benthic communities. Rare,
endangered, protected and/or threatened coastal and marine species.
Threats to habitat and ecosystem structure. Alien species.
Tourism Tourism intensity: number of tourist per km coastline, tourist arrivals,
coastal recreation visitor days, etc.
Fisheries Annual catch of major fish species (recreational and commercial). Size
and numbers. Level of mortality (per catch or incidental). Change in
trophic composition of fish catch. Level of over-fishing. Shellfish:
commercial and recreational catching of shellfish. Seafood quality
(contamination): contaminants in fish and molluscs.
Water quality Physical parameters: salinity, turbidity/sedimentation. PH. Solid waste
parameters: accumulation on beach, disposal density at sea. Heavy metal
and POP parameters: accumulation in organisms, discharge of heavy
metals. Eutrophication parameters: algal bloom events, occurrence of
hypoxic zones, nutrient levels, dissolved oxygen, chlorophyll-A levels,
etc. Halogenated organic compounds: discharge and levels. Faecal
pollution: discharge and levels. Pathogens, biotoxins, and disease
agents: discharge and levels.
Shipping Amount of shipping traffic. Harbour equipment ratio.
Oil and gas Oil-tanker traffic levels. Oil spills: frequency and volume.
Global process Sea surface-temperature variability. Sea-level changes.

Indicators play an important role when evaluating ICZM. According to

the NOAA (2002), an ideal indicator has the following characteristics:
meaningful to external audiences, useful for internal management,
sensitive (e.g. progress can be measured on a periodic basis), within the
agency’s scope of control and influence, representative of an ‘outcome’
5
See www.netcoast.nl/tools/tools_iczm.htm
114 Gerard Linden

rather than an ‘output’, stakeholder involvement in development process,

practical (e.g. cost does not outweigh benefit), transferable to regional
and national ‘state of the coast’ assessment, and consistent in
measurement.
Three categories of indicator can be distinguished in environ-
mental, socio-economic and governance terms. As an example, ICAM
(2003) gives a list of selected environmental indicators grouped
according to a number of ICZM characteristics (see table above). The
same source also contains a list of selected socioeconomic indicators and
a list of suggested governance indicators. The suggested indicators are
based on literature study and show that, depending on the situation and
problem, indicators can differ widely.

6 ICZM and traditional development planning

Integrated Coastal Zone Management improves upon the traditional

forms of development planning in a number of distinct ways (Chua,
1996:3). First and foremost, ICZM furthers the thorough understanding
of the natural resource systems that are unique to the coastal areas, and
their sustainability in the context of a wide variety of human activities.
The aim is to optimise the diverse uses of the coastal resource systems
by integrating ecological, social, and economic information, and by
promoting interdisciplinary approaches and intersectoral co-operation
and co-ordination in order to address complex development issues and
arrive at integrated strategies for expanding and diversifying economic
activity. ICZM also differs from traditional development planning in that
it assists governments to improve the efficiency and effectiveness of
capital investment and natural and human resources with a view to
fulfilling economic, social, and environmental responsibilities relating to
the coastal and marine environment. The following table (adapted from
Cicin-Sain and Knecht, 1998) provides an overview of these characteristic
ICZM functions.
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 115

ICZM functions Specific actions and fields of interest

Area Planning: Studies of coastal environments and their zoning of uses.
to plan for present and future use of Anticipation of and planning for new uses. Regulation of
coastal and marine areas and coastal development projects and their proximity to the
provide a long-term vision. shoreline. Public education on the value of coastal and marine
areas. Regulation of public access to coastal and marine areas.
Promotion of Economic Industrial fisheries. Artisanal fisheries. Marine aquaculture.
Development: Mass tourism. Eco-tourism. Marine recreation. Marine
to promote the appropriate use of transportation. Port development. Offshore minerals. Ocean
coastal and marine areas. research. Access to genetic resources.
Stewardship of Resources: Environmental assessments. Relative risk assessment.
to protect the ecological base of Establishment and enforcement of environmental standards.
coastal and marine areas, preserve Protection and improvement of coastal water quality.
biological diversity and ensure Establishment and management of protected coastal and
sustainable use. marine areas. Conservation and restoration of coastal and
marine environments.
Conflict resolution: Studies of multiple uses and their interaction. Applications of
to harmonise and balance existing conflict-resolution methods. Mitigation of unavoidable adverse
and potential uses and address effects of certain uses.
conflicts between coastal and
marine uses.
Protection of Public Safety: Reduce vulnerability to natural disasters and global changes.
to protect public safety in coastal Regulate development in high-risk areas through methods such
and marine areas that are typically as setback lines. Construction of coastal defence measures (e.g.
prone to significant natural and sea walls). Creation of evacuation plans or other measures in
manmade, hazards. case of coastal emergency.
Proprietorship of Public Submerged Establishment of leases and fees for use of publicly held
Lands and Waters: coastal and marine resources and spaces. Establishment of joint
since governments are often the ventures to exploit non-renewable resources.
outright owners of specific coastal
and marine areas, to manage
government-held areas and
resources wisely and with good
economic returns for the public.

7 Concluding remarks

In order to be successful in Integrated Coastal Zone Management, it is

necessary to take account of the prevailing natural and cultural systems
when meeting the demands of increased human activity in coastal zones.
ICZM has to address aquatic and terrestrial issues simultaneously, from a
broad ‘holistic’ perspective that includes geographical and thematic
issues. The enormous number of interrelated conflicting interests
requires a strategic approach that tries to balance the integrity of the
watershed of which the zone is a part.
116 Gerard Linden

Given the problems resulting from global warming, such as

rising sea levels, a long-term perspective is essential. Low-lying
countries such as the Netherlands in particular have to contend with a
considerable rise in sea level and a more extreme weather pattern. The
effects of climate change will be felt after a long period of, say, 50 years.
Nevertheless, the anticipated effects are serious enough to be considered
in the context of ICZM projects.
The long-term perspective of ICZM is also a tribute to its
strategic character. Problems cannot be solved overnight. Changes will
come gradually and must be achieved by a process of gradual adaptation.
The complexity of coastal problems must be dealt with in an institutional
context that is, on the one hand, stable over time and, on the other,
constantly involved in collecting and maintaining pertinent data,
monitoring developments, building understanding between stakeholders
and facilitating collaboration.

The above remarks apply to ICZM in general, but need to be adapted to

location-specific coastal problems. Problems in a densely populated
coastal dune area in the Netherlands will differ from problems arising in
the rocky and sparsely populated coastal areas of Norway. This implies
extra requirements in terms of data collection and information
management in order to meet the needs of the area in question.
ICZM must incorporate the views of all relevant stakeholders and
is therefore highly appropriate for participatory and communicative
planning approaches. In order to be successful, it requires institutional
backing from the proper authorities. The need to communicate and
eventually reach a consensus between so many parties with conflicting
interests means that ICZM is a highly complex and demanding exercise.
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 117

References

Belfiore, S et al. (2003), A Reference Guide on the Use of Indicators for Integrated
Coastal Management, ICAM Dossier I, IOC Manuals and Guide no 45,
Unesco, Paris
Bower, B; C. Ehler; and D. Basta (1994), A framework for Planning for Integrated
Coastal Zone Management. NOAA/NOS Office of Resources Conservation
and Assessment, Silver Spring, Maryland
Boelaert-Suominen, S and C. Cullinan (1994), Legal and Institutional Aspects of
Integrated Coastal Area Management in National Legislation, Rome: Food and
Agriculture Organization of the United Nations; Development Law Service,
Legal Office, Rome
Chua Thia-Eng, (1993), Essential elements of integrated coastal management. Ocean &
Coastal Zone Management 21:81-108
Chua, T.E. (1996), Enhancing the Success of Integrated Coastal Zone Management:
Good Practices in the Formulation, Design, and Implementation of Integrated
Coastal Zone Management Initiatives. GEF/UNDP/IMO Regional Programme
for the Prevention and Management of Marine Pollution in the East Asian
Seas. MPP-EAS Technical Report no. 2
Cican-Sain, B and R.W. Knecht (1998), Integrated Coastal and Ocean Management:
Concepts and Practices. Island Press,Washington, DC
Clark, J (1966) Handbook for Coastal Zone Management, Lewis Publishers, New
York/London.
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Rome Food and Agriculture Organization of the United Nations (66 pages)
GESAMP 1996b Report of the Taskforce on Integrated Coastal Management. Rome.
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Henocque, Yves; J. Denis ; B. Gerard ; C. Grignon-Logorot; L. Brigand, M. Lointier;
and P. Barusseau. (1997), Methodological Guide to Integrated Coastal
Management. Manuals and Guides IOC, no 36 Paris, France UNESCO
Ledoux, L Vermaat J, Bouwer L Salomons W and Turner R Eloise (2003), Research
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(1): 3-41
118 Gerard Linden
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 119

7
Borders never die, but they might fade away:
Cross-border capacity building for territorial
governance in the Rhine-Scheldt Delta

Jochem de Vries

1 Introduction

The internal borders of the European Union would disappear; such was
the message on completion of the internal market in 1992. Since this
milestone institutional changes and specific policies have diminished the
meaning of borders for people, companies and governments. The Single
European Act (1992) has brought down barriers for traffic of people and
goods and the EU has numerous programmes on a wide range of social
areas to reduce the impact of borders. Obviously, borders are not simply
abolished with one stroke of the pen. State borders in particular are a
fundamental category that structures modern society on many different
levels. Since the early 19th century the gradual process of modernisation
and the nation state formation have lead to borders that are hard
conditions to many social practices. The process, in which these state
borders lose the toughness they acquired over the years, will equally be a
lengthy process. Spatial planning as a process of critical thinking about
space and place which forms the basis for action and intervention (see
Chapter 2) is one of the fundamental modes in which societies actively
try to change the meaning and impact of borders. It may come as no
surprise that in practice spatial planning is frequently chosen as a mode
to improve cross-border co-operation.
120 Jochem de Vries

By forming a cross-border network organisation1 a number of

governments and non-governmental organisations in the Rhine-Scheldt
Delta in concert try to diminish the influence of the border on their
operations the activities of this network are divers, the core approach is
very much influenced by spatial planning practices in the Netherlands
and Flanders2. This implies a preference for comprehensive planning (by
means of a comprehensive plan), in which a wide variety of spatially
relevant issues are addressed with the intention of reaching an integrated
area-based policy. An analysis of cross-border co-operation in this area
reveals that the preconditions for a meaningful comprehensive plan are
lacking. The most elementary precondition for such planning is the
existence of, or the prospect of developing, some sort of basic consensus
on how to perceive the desired spatial structure of an area.
As a result, the task for such a cross-border network is largely
one of creating the preconditions to deal with cross-border issues when
they arise. In this way, spatial planning, i.e. cross-border co-operation,
becomes a process of institution building (Perkmann, 1999; Mastop,
2000) or capacity building, where ‘the concept of institutional capacity
refers to the overall quality of the collection of relational networks in a
place’ (Healey, 1997, p. 61). This article explores the specifics of
capacity building in cross-border regions, with particular attention to the
role of spatial planning.
Section 2 elaborates the concept of institutional capacity
building. Section 3 continues with a brief overview of the spatial
characteristics of the Rhine-Scheldt Delta. It shows that it is a complex
region in which pressure for development, ecological qualities and cross-
border competition complicate spatial planning policy. Section 4
describes the limitations imposed by state borders when attempts are
made to bring about a more integrated approach to policy issues. Section
5 analyses the drawing up of a strategy – a plan – for the Rhine-Scheldt
Delta from a capacity-building perspective. Section 6 reflects on the
previous sections and draws conclusions with respect to the specific
characteristics of capacity building in border regions.

1 Perkmann (1999, p. 662) defines networks in the context of cross-border co-operation

as: ‘loose-tie inter-organizational relationships and, as such, they offer the participating
actors a relatively structured environment for pursuing their [own] agendas’.
2 Since 1993, Belgium has been a federal state in which the regions (Flanders, Brussels
and Wallonia) are highly independent, and quasi-sovereign with respect to policies
concerning the physical environment.
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 121

2 Capacity building for territorial governance

Before embarking on an examination of the role of spatial planning

making in cross-border co-operation, it should clarify some of the core
concepts used in this exploration. The purpose is twofold. Firstly, there
is an assessment of the value of the concepts that can be considered to
represent dominant strands in present-day planning theory for the
relatively new planning practice of cross-border planning. Secondly, the
paper seeks to contribute to a better understanding of the particularities
of cross-border co-operation in the field of spatial and environmental
planning. This is topical because it is more than likely that cross-border
co-ordination issues will occur more frequently as a result of European
integration and globalisation.
Healey (1997) developed the idea of capacity building with respect
to the management of collective coexistence in shared space. The idea
builds on the insights gained in planning theory and regional economics.
It joins two strands of thinking: the communicative turn in planning, and
the notion of the territorial embeddedness of regional economies. The
latter emphasizes the importance of local circumstances, of institutions
in particular, vis-à-vis processes of globalisation. Research shows that
local and regional relationships between economic actors are of
importance for the economic performance of an area. Storper (1997, p.
266), for example, writes that economic actors function in a world of
production in which ‘there is a common context of interpretation for […]
actors, which permit them to co-ordinate coherently with other actors in
that context.’ Apart from a well-balanced view of the world, a basic
characteristic of present-day successful economic regions is a relatively
high degree of mutual trust between all parties – companies and
governments – within that regional economy. These relationships
become sustainable in the form of formal institutions, such as
regulations, and in more informal institutions. Good relationships
between participants contribute to better economic performance because
the exchange of goods, services and knowledge is more efficient in these
cases than in those cases where relationships are problematic.
These views are compatible with insights developed under the
banner of communicative planning. This strand in planning theory places
great importance on the ability of actors to change their views on policy
issues through interaction with each other (see also Chapter 3).
Communicative planning theorists reject the idea that the self-interest of
actors is a given and stable factor with respect to concrete policy issues.
Rein and Schön (1994) are an important source of inspiration for
communicative planning theorists.
122 Jochem de Vries

“We see policy positions as resting on underlying structures of

belief, perception, and appreciation, which we call ‘frames’. We
see policy controversies as disputes in which contending parties
hold conflicting frames.” (Rein and Schön, 1994)

‘Frame reflection’, participants confronting their presuppositions in

relation to a particular issue, can contribute to a change of opinions, or
‘reframing’, that brings participants closer together.
Creating the circumstances in which actors are encouraged to
reframe, is what capacity building essentially entails. The methodology
is inspired by the experiences of regional economics: building networks
of participants in which good relationships exist. The ‘institutional
thickness’, that is, the number of institutions that tie the network
together, becomes an indicator of the network’s capacity to co-ordinate
actions (Hassink & Lagendijk, 2001). Trust and a common context of
interpretation are the basic qualities shared by the members of such a
network. Healey (1997) distinguishes between hard and soft
infrastructure that ties the network together. The soft infrastructure
consists of the social, cultural and intellectual capital that is developed in
strategy-making, such as the creation of a spatial development
perspective for the Rhine-Scheldt Delta. Strategy development includes
the indication of arenas of communication, the mapping of stakeholders,
the creation of routines and the development of discourses, which form
the collective capital on which future interaction concerning the
management of spatial development in an area can build. Nevertheless,
these kinds of soft features alone are not enough to build the institutional
capacity on which ‘real effective’ strategies can be based, where
‘effective’ means the actual changes in spatial development.
The hard infrastructure refers to the legal regime that is
applicable to participants in a certain area. The distribution of rights,
duties and resources across the parties involved are crucial factors in
determining whether different parties will be prepared to interact and
have the opportunity to undergo frame reflection. While in national
contexts the hard infrastructure for the management of the environment
is deliberately designed to be a world of shared power, in cross-border
areas such hard infrastructure is very poorly developed. In the national
context different government agencies have the responsibilities and the
financial resources necessary for building a road, for example, and this
forces them to interact. Furthermore, public consultation is required,
which allows the public a role. In cross-border areas the requirement to
interact with government agencies across the border is weakly
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 123

developed, often with few obligations. In many cases, the participation

of citizens across the border is not possible.
The creation of institutional capacity is a second-order activity
(Faludi, 1987; Gualini, 2002), which creates a context for the first-order
activity of operational decision-making, such as the decision to build a
road. The drawing up of a plan contributes to capacity building if it leads
to lasting shared frames of reference, communicative arenas, routines for
efficient, fair interaction, and the establishment of new links between
participants. As a result, the effectiveness of a plan as a tool for capacity
building is not determined by the fact that spatial development goals are
realized in accordance with the plan. This brings Faludi (1999) to the
conclusion that with respect to a transnational plan such as the European
Spatial Development Perspective, it is better to speak of application
instead of implementation, as the makers of that plan do: “Application is
not giving shape to spatial development. Rather, applying any strategic
planning document aims at shaping the minds of actors involved in
spatial development. The consequence is that, wherever the ESDP helps
these actors in making sense of their situations, there it is being applied.”
(Faludi, 1999, p. 664)
124 Jochem de Vries

Figure 1. The Rhine-Scheldt Delta

3 Rhine-Scheldt Delta: the layers that bind

Is there a need to develop cross-border capacity building? This section

briefly sketches the spatial characteristics of the Rhine-Scheldt Delta3,
which indicate that this is a region in which issues of cross-border co-
operation are likely to arise. Is there a need for building cross-border
capacity building? This section briefly sketches the spatial characteristics
of the Rhine-Scheldt Delta, which indicates that this is a region in which
issues of cross-border co-operation are likely to arise. The Rhine-Scheldt
Delta as defined by the co-operating actors consists of the area bordered

3 This section is to a large extend based on De Vries et al (2001) and Romein et al (2001)
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 125

by the North Sea coast and a semicircle formed by the cities of

Rotterdam, Dordrecht, Breda, Antwerp, Ghent and Bruges. The state
border between the Netherlands and Belgium runs east-west through the
area. A quick scan of the map departing from the Environmental Layer
Concept (see Chapter 2) shows that this is a divers and complex region.
It also makes clear that potentially there is a lot to gain by increasing the
capacity to deal with cross-border issues in this region.

3.1 The ground layer

The main structure of the ground layer of this Delta consists of the sea
and the three large European river basins, the Scheldt, the Meuse and the
Rhine, that discharge into it. With respect to the soil conditions of the
land, two main areas can be distinguished. The peninsulas of the Dutch
provinces of Zeeland and south Holland have clay soil. The rest of the
region has sandy soil. As a result of this structure, two sorts of important
gradients can be found in the Delta. There is the gradient from fresh to
salt water and a gradient between sand and sea clay soil. Both of these
gradients are valuable from an ecological point of view.
While the characteristics of the ground layer have to the present
day had an important structuring effect on the infrastructure and
occupancy layer, human intervention has also significantly altered the
ground layer. The ‘Delta Plan’ contained a strategy for the protection of
the south-west of the Netherlands from flooding.4 The most prominent
intervention was the Delta works, commenced after the 1953 flooding of
large parts of the delta which shortened the coastline by 700 kilometres
to 850 in total (on the Dutch side of the delta). Dams were built that
blocked the arms of the sea, turning several estuaries into fresh water
The practice of damming the sea was changed in the 1970s as a result of
a raised environmental consciousness. Subsequently, the Eastern Scheldt
was protected by a dam which is normally left open but can be closed in
the event of an extremely high tide. Consequently, the Eastern Scheldt
remains an estuary and is now protected, with the status of a national
park.
The peninsula’s woodlands are to be found on the sandy soil to
the east. On the Dutch side these are predominantly located in the border

4 In Dutch society the Delta Plan has become a great symbol for planning. The long-
term effort – from 1953 to 1997 – and the amount of financial resources used to realise
the plan, stand as a symbol for the ability of planned collective action to counter large-
scale social problems. Today, the adjective ‘Delta’ is often used in policies to
emphasise their comprehensiveness and uniqueness, which, for example, implies
specific legislation that sometimes overrides more general existing legislation.
126 Jochem de Vries

region. These woodlands form part of a larger area that is relatively

sparsely populated, stretching further to the east. As a result of these
areas being peripheral from a national perspective, there is less
development pressure in border areas than in many other parts of the
country. Of course, all this could change if the internal borders within
the EU lose their importance5.
On the ‘sand soil’ to the east of the peninsula’s woodlands, are to
be found. On the Dutch side these are predominantly located in the
border region. In fact these woodlands form a larger area that is
relatively sparsely populated, stretching further to the east. As a result of
being a peripheral area from a national perspective, less development
pressure exists in border areas than in many other places in the same
country. Of course al this can change when the internal borders within
the EU loose their importance.

3.2 The infrastructure layer

The main characteristic of the regions infrastructure is a relatively

narrow North-South bundle of internationally connecting infrastructure.
This includes a waterway – The Rhine-Scheldt Canal –, a system of
motorways, traditional rail lines and in the near future a High Speed train
link that connects Rotterdam with Antwerp (2006). East-West
infrastructure is found on the south and respectively north side of the
Rhine-Scheldt Delta.
On the north as well as on the south side of the region these
East-West zones of infrastructure also include all modes of transport and
are important international connecting infrastructure. This structure of
the infrastructure layer is very much the result of the fact that the
harbours of Rotterdam and Antwerp have developed and still develop
their hinterland infrastructure separately. Despite European policies such
as the Trans European Networks, the national perspective on
infrastructure development is still prevalent. This results in investments
in infrastructure on both sides of the border, while the alternative of
realising infrastructure together never seriously is taken into
consideration. A recent example is the simultaneous completion on both

5 The value of this wooded borderland is clear when the total amount of woodlands in
The Netherlands and Flanders is taken into consideration. In Flanders forests cover
only 8,5 percent of the surface, which makes it after the republic of Ireland, the less
wooded region in Europe. The situation in the Netherlands is hardly any better, with 9,1
percent land covered with woodland. Flanders forests cover only 8.5 percent of the
surface, which makes it, after the Republic of Ireland, the least wooded region in
Europe.
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 127

sides of the border of a dedicated freight rail line connecting the

harbours of Antwerp and Rotterdam to the German hinterland. On the
Dutch side, the newly built Betuwe railroad has been much debated with
regard to its cost-effectiveness and its environmental impact. On the
Flemish side, the upgrading of an unused railroad has been planned
which, as the Belgian answer to Rotterdam’s natural hinterland
connection, is fittingly called the Iron Rhine. This much cheaper
alternative has not been completed because the Dutch government has
thus far declined to become involved in the project, having a say because
a small stretch of the line crosses into Dutch territory.
The development of north-south infrastructure on the west side of
the Rhine-Scheldt Delta is complicated by the structure of the peninsular.
Nevertheless, with the completion of a tunnel under the Scheldt in 2003
linking the most southern peninsula with the Dutch-Flemish mainland,
the north-south connection to the islands was completed. For the time
being this connection is not a motorway and upgrading it would cause
conflict with the regional policy of the government of Zeeland, which
considers the core of its province to be a Blue Green Heart,6 whose
natural qualities are crucial for attracting tourists. While there are
currently no plans for developing a new infrastructural axis, it is possible
that plans to upgrade the north-south connection over the peninsula will
re-emerge. It would provide an excellent link between the Randstad and
the Channel Tunnel, which would largely bypass the core urban area of
Flanders.
To round off this brief discussion of the infrastructure layer of the
Rhine-Scheldt Delta, the role of the Scheldt River as a waterway should
be noted. This river forms the sea entrance for the harbour of Antwerp. A
larger part of the river and the estuary between the sea and the harbour is
Dutch territory. The right of unrestricted entrance to the harbour for
shipping was guaranteed by the treaty in 1839 that arranged the division
of the Netherlands and Belgium7. Nevertheless, issues regarding the
management of the Scheldt between Antwerp and the sea are severely
complicated by the existence of the state border.

3.3 The occupancy layer

6 Zeeland introduced this planning concept because it took a different view of the
position of the area in a borderless Europe.
7 Between 1815 and 1830 present day Belgium and the Netherlands formed the United
Kingdom of the Netherlands.
128 Jochem de Vries

With respect to the occupancy pattern, the region can be roughly

subdivided into the following areas [see Figure 2]. The edges of the core
polycentric urban regions of Flanders – the Flemish Diamond – and the
Netherlands – the Randstad – border on the south and north sides of the
region respectively. In the north of the Flemish Diamond and to the
south of the Randstad, land-use functions and patterns are heavily
influenced by the two harbour complexes, which both rank among the
largest in the world.
The area between Rotterdam (south of Dordrecht) and Antwerp
forms an intermediary zone, which is much more difficult to classify
than the areas surrounding it. Although many places in this zone have
above average urbanization rates, it is still relatively open. On the Dutch
side, overspill from the Rotterdam Mainport area can be observed.
Large-scale activities in particular, sometimes polluting, have found their
way into this area, where the struggle for land is less fierce than around
Rotterdam and access to infrastructure is excellent. This development,
which is known to locals as ‘beautiful West Brabant turning into a
conveyor belt of tarmac, steel and concrete’ causes a lot of
dissatisfaction. On the Flemish side the intermediary zone is also
relatively open, despite the fact that it has an urbanization rate above the
Flemish average. The area north of Antwerp is well wooded, but this is
heavily fragmented by residential development. A proportion of the
demand for housing is of Dutch origin. In addition to the fiscal attraction
of the area for some Dutch households, the size of the houses and the
plots of land lure them across the border.
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 129

Source: De Vries et al (2001)

Figure 2. Rhine Scheldt Delta in its context

To the west of the intermediary zone, the archipelago of

peninsulas still has very rural characteristics and its few cities are
relatively small. There is some harbour activity on the West Scheldt, but
everywhere else the water and adjacent land is predominantly the
domain of tourism and nature. Obviously beach tourism and yachting are
important in this respect and attract national and international tourists.
3.4 Challenges posed by cross-border dynamics

Concluding this short overview of the spatial characteristics of the

Rhine-Scheldt Delta, the following should be noted. Firstly, a corridor of
north-south infrastructure – in the intermediate area – is wedged between
two areas where north-south infrastructure is at a considerably lower
level. It is unlikely that in the near future the infrastructure in the
neighbouring areas will be upgraded. In the case of the peninsulas,
ecological considerations will prevent upgrading, while in the other case
the Benelux intermediate area is an unlikely place to accommodate
north-south flows. As a result it is most likely that the zone between
Antwerp and Rotterdam will have to accommodate the increased flow.
Whether the expansion of existing infrastructure and the building of new
infrastructure will be done in the most sustainable way is very dependent
130 Jochem de Vries

on cross-border co-ordination. Secondly, from an environmental point of

view there would be a lot to gain if both countries co-ordinated their
efforts with respect to east-west infrastructure. The Iron Rhine
controversy is a case in point. Thirdly, while development pressure in the
whole Rhine-Scheldt Delta is lower than in the surrounding regions, this
could be a threat to the region. Seen from a transnational perspective, the
region can be considered to be a green and blue buffer zone between two
of north-west Europe’s major urban areas. From a narrowly defined
national point of view, this perspective could easily be overlooked.
Finally, the management of the Scheldt River is one of the most obvious
challenges for cross-border co-operation.

4 Capacity building in cross-border regions

The sort of challenges mentioned above are not typical for all cross-
border regions. However, what is typical of border regions is that it is
much more difficult to reach optimal solutions that are environmentally
sound than in regions where there is no state, or equally strong, border.
The absence of cross-border institutional capacity should be considered
to be a significant handicap. This section starts by noting that decision-
making about cross-border issues is often exclusively based on
establishing compromises, which result in sub-optimal solutions. The
search for optimal solutions and the establishment of consensus building
around these is not easy to initiate in cross-border regions. One of the
reasons for this is the dominant perception of the border as the spatial
expression of a fixed national interest. Nevertheless, the prospect of
more integrative solutions for cross-border problems could arise if
planners took account of the constructed nature of state borders and the
possibilities available for creating a more favourable institutional context
in border regions through capacity building.
4.1 Wheeling and dealing across borders

Basically, the planning and policy science literature distinguishes two

main modes of co-operation between mutually dependent policy actors8
(Susskind & Cruickshank, 1987; Scharpf, 1997; Woltjer, 2000), for
example, two national governments that want to develop a cross-border
train link. The first mode is referred to as a zero-sum game or
distributive bargaining. The second mode is often referred to as the
creation of a win-win situation, consensus building or integrative
bargaining. In distributive bargaining, participants enter the interaction

8 Besides non-co-operative co-ordination such as the market mechanism.

Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 131

with other stakeholders with a predetermined definition of their interest

with respect to the particular issue. In the case of a railroad this could be
a connection from A to B considered in relation to the lowest costs and
environmental consequences. Often the benefits of different alternative
courses of action are unequally distributed over stakeholders. For
example, Alternative 1 for a new cross-border train link benefits country
A because it is the cheapest and causes the least environmental damage,
while Alternative 2 presents the opposite situation and benefits country
B. To find a way out of such situations, participants make use of ‘issue
linkage’ and ‘side payments’ as strategies (Scharpf, 1997). Side
payments compensate for unequal benefits. The Dutch government, for
example, paid the Belgian government for the construction of the new
high-speed rail link because the alternative chosen minimized the length
of the Dutch part of the line. Issue linkage is frequently adopted in
international relations and also occurs between the Netherlands and
Belgium. The construction of the high-speed rail link, which the Dutch
wanted, was informally linked to the Belgian desire to deepen the West
Scheldt.
Distributive bargaining such as this is an important way of co-
ordinating decisions by considering the physical environment across
borders. In many cases a compromise including side payments and issue
linkage is the most reasonable way out of a cross-border co-ordination
issue. In many other cases, however, even this does not take place.
Sometimes a compromise is unreachable because one country simply
refuses to enter into a negotiation process. For example, in the 1970s
new docks were built to the north-west of Antwerp. These docks were
not used for more than twenty years because the connection to the sea –
via the West Scheldt and over Dutch territory – could not be completed
because the Dutch did not co-operate. In the end the Belgians removed
the village of Doel to create a connection over their own territory.
Another reason why co-ordination does not occur is because one party is
not strictly dependent on the other, even though its actions affect the
other. For example, the tunnel project under the West Scheldt was
realized by the Dutch government without the co-operation of the
Belgian government. Nevertheless, the Belgians fear that this connection
will lead to an international route from the Randstad south, bypassing
Antwerp. The infrastructure on the Flemish side is not equipped for these
kinds of traffic flows.
Institutional capacity building for cross-border co-ordination
would mean that issue linkage and the provision of side payments could
take place more easily. This requires, for example, the exchange of
information on new initiatives in an early phase, and cross-border
132 Jochem de Vries

communication channels that enable the approach to parties on the other

side. Nevertheless, the real challenge for cross-border capacity building
would be to create conditions for integrative bargaining or more
consensus-based actions. This form of co-ordination creates a valuable
option for all stakeholders – an option which could not be reached by
any on their own. To see these kinds of solutions, stakeholders often
have to change their perspective on a policy issue: ‘It [cross-border
capacity building] seeks to reframe how people think about winning and
loosing’ (Healey, 1997).
A very clear but rare example of a cross-border integrative
solution is the bi-national airport of Basel-Mulhouse. In this case it was
necessary to overcome the idea that an airport provides a competitive
advantage vis-à-vis the other side of the border. An example of a cross-
border integrative solution in the Rhine-Scheldt Delta is ProSes, a joint
Flemish-Dutch project team. This team is preparing a plan and an
integrated package of activities for the Scheldt estuary to occur at the
end of 2004. While it is early days with respect to results, at least the
approach is largely based on integrative solutions rather than on the
bilateral negotiations that have dominated decision-making concerning
the Scheldt in the past.
To finish this overview of the basic modes of cross-border co-
ordination, attention should be drawn to what Scharpf (1997) calls the
‘negotiator’s dilemma’. Participants interacting with each other are faced
with a dilemma. Should they enter the negotiations with the aim of
reaching a compromise or should they aim for a more integrative
solution? In the first case it pays to be a tough negotiator, not to put all
your cards on the table and to maintain some distrust of the other party.
Alternatively, integrative bargaining demands a more open approach
from participants and the building up of trust in order to facilitate the
process of searching for more integrated solutions. In practice parties
will often opt for the role of the tough negotiator, even if they know that
integrative bargaining could be more successful. A precondition for the
solution of this dilemma is the procedural separation of issues that can
only be solved by distributive bargaining and issues for which
integrative bargaining is appropriate. Only when parties are assured that
distributive issues are solved or will not interfere will they enter into an
integrative bargaining process on other issues. The Rhine-Scheldt Delta
co-operation – an effort to develop more integrative co-operation – could
only start after a treaty dealing with the deepening of the Scheldt – a
distributive issue – was signed in 1995.
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 133

4.2 Cross-border capacity building

It is tempting to see the complications of cross-border co-operation as
arising from the existence of fixed national interests, which lead to zero-
sum games. From this point of view, the best result would be suboptimal
solutions. Nevertheless, it is useful to realize that state borders, as they
exist at this moment in time, have become such rigid dividing lines
through a process of institutionalisation, and thus their effect can be
transformed and changed through another process of institutionalisation.
In the twentieth century, with the increasing power of the state and
central governments in particular, the state border increasingly
determined social practices, including education that, for example,
resulted in national languages, the economy and the spatial development
process. ‘The state not the nation (defined either culturally or
territorially), created the nation-state in the modern age’ (Castells, 1997,
270). In the present ‘state-centred system of territories’, inhabitants of
countries undergo a process of spatial socialization, through education,
politics, governance and administration. This makes national identity,
which coexists and overlaps with other identities, such as religion, class
and gender, probably the most fundamental form of identity in the
modern world (Paasi, 1998, 69). One result of this is the acceptance of
the state and nation as given, leading to methodological nationalism in
the social sciences, which, for example, means that statistical
information is predominantly produced in a state-based framework. In
the practice of cross-border planning, the absence of comparable data
causes considerable problems. Integrating knowledge across borders
would therefore greatly contribute to the soft infrastructure of cross-
border regions.
Overall, the situation that has been created is very unfavourable
to integrative bargaining across borders. On the one hand, it is possible
to say that nearly every initiative to improve relationships across borders
can be considered as a form of institutional capacity building because the
point of departure is so bleak. On the other hand, changing the
circumstances in such a way that they have a serious impact on spatial
development is close to a mission impossible. In particular, the
development of hard infrastructure across borders meets tough resistance
in practice. The search for a legal form for the Rhine-Scheldt Delta co-
operation is a case in point. In fact even today it does not have any legal
status. As a result any agreements reached between the participating
parties also lack legal status. Although the Benelux countries signed a
treaty, which allows for the establishment of cross-border public bodies,
134 Jochem de Vries

the parties within the Rhine-Scheldt Delta co-operation consider this to

be a bridge too far.
With respect to contributing to hard and soft infrastructure for
cross-border co-operation in the Rhine Scheldt Delta, two international
organizations should be mentioned. Firstly, there is the European Union,
which contributes financially to cross-border initiatives through its
INTERREG programme. Secondly, there is the Benelux Economic
Union. This is a treaty organization with a small administrative service
in Brussels. It has made minor contributions with respect to the hard
infrastructure of cross-border co-operation, but its main contribution
concerns the soft infrastructure. In the practice of cross-border co-
operation in the Dutch-Flemish border region it plays the role of
facilitator. It organizes meetings and serves as a facilitator for different
standing forums where governments from the member states meet
around different issues, for example, the environment, infrastructure and
spatial planning.9
The European Union is much more oriented towards the hard
infrastructure of cross-border co-operation. By issuing directives and
other regulations, the EU established the duties of governments with
respect to cross-border co-operation. These regulations generally have a
sector origin and hence promote cross-border institutional capacity along
sector lines. The European Water Framework Directive, for example, is a
forceful incentive for cross-border co-operation along river basins such
as the Scheldt. Through its structural funds, in particular the INTERREG
programme, the EU promotes cross-border co-operation by providing
subsidies for concrete projects. The EU matches the funding that national
governments put into these projects. In the first rounds of the
INTERREG programme the EU was regarded as the pot of gold at the
end of the rainbow (Williams, 1996) and governments were visibly
enthusiastic about creating projects to secure their portion of the funds.
This enthusiasm appears to have waned. The administrative burden that
comes with accounting for the use of the EU subsidies is often
considered to be too great.
With respect to institutional capacity building, two results of the
INTERREG programme should be noted (Perkmann, 1999). Firstly, it
brought higher level public authorities into the field of cross-border co-
operation. Prior to this, cross-border co-operation was predominantly the
domain of local governments and local projects. Today it has spread over
a wide range of spatial scales. Nevertheless, while cross-border co-

9 The member states are Luxembourg, Belgium and the Netherlands. Different forums
are bilateral and focus on specific regions around the internal borders of the Benelux.
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 135

operation has become more inclusive, the private sector is generally still
not well connected to cross-border co-operation initiatives. Secondly, to
some extent the INTERREG programme has led to a proliferation of
initiatives. As a consequence, competition between initiatives in the
same area has resulted from this programme. This is also the case in the
Rhine-Scheldt Delta.
In finishing this section, it can be concluded that successful
capacity building in border regions makes contributions in three
domains. Firstly, it helps to avoid the negotiator’s dilemma by creating
different forums for distributive bargaining and integrative bargaining
respectively. Furthermore, with respect to distributive bargaining, the
chances for issue linkage must be increased, which implies the creation
of a network in which a wide variety of parties participate (different
policy sectors and different levels of government). Finally, capacity
building should contribute to creating new knowledge, which overcomes
‘methodological nationalism’. This relates to data but also to images of
the existing and desired spatial structure of the cross-border region
(Neuman, 1996; Mastop, 2000).

5 Co-operation in the Rhine-Scheldt Delta10

The Rhine-Scheldt Delta co-operation ‘formally’ began with the signing

of a declaration of intent in 1995.11 With the signing of the declaration a
period of soul-searching also began. To an extreme extent, it has what is
considered to be the general characteristics of more decentralized modes
of governance, such as networks, so that ‘the “object of governance” is
not pre-constituted but co-evolves with the operation of governance
institutions’ (Perkmann, 1999, 660). In particular, the controversies
around, and adaptations made to, the spatial development perspective
cast light on the specifics of capacity building in a cross-border region
like the Rhine-Scheldt Delta. Before this section turns to planning as a
strategy for capacity building, the period running up to the signing of the
declaration of intent is briefly described.

10 The empirical information concerning the planning process in this section is based
on participative observation and interviews (formal and informal) with key-informants.
The present author was secretary of the planning team that drew up the Spatial
Development Perspective for the Rijn-Scheldt Area (De Vries, 2002).
11 The signatories are the Dutch and Flemish ministers for spatial planning, the Dutch
provinces of North Brabant, Zeeland and South Holland, the Flemish provinces of
Antwerp, East Flanders and West Flanders, a number of larger municipalities in the
region, and the Chambers of Commerce. At a later stage environmental non-
governmental organizations will enter the co-operation.
136 Jochem de Vries

5.1 Getting started is a process in itself

Before the signing of a declaration of intent, a period of seven years was
occupied with preparatory activities. While such a period is not
necessarily long, it must be borne in mind that it was an agreement
without ‘substance’. It did no more than define the partners who pledged
to explore and consider issues of co-operation and create a moral
obligation for these parties to attend meetings. The difficulties
encountered in reaching such a limited agreement show how complicated
it is to reach any agreement across borders. During this period a variety
of stumbling blocks had to be overcome.

A lack of external stimuli and a dependence on internal conviction

One problem was that there were only a few very weak external
incentives for the parties to embark on co-operation when the agenda
was so poorly developed. The European Union, as the highest ranking
participant, did not provide any incentives, neither by pressuring
governments into a co-operation, as it sometimes does in other fields, nor
through funding. The kind of ‘results’ that parties were able to deliver at
this stage were much too vague for European financial support. As a
result, the willingness to explore the possibilities for co-operation had to
come from the conviction that there was something to gain from that co-
operation. It seemed obvious that European integration and
internationalization would somehow convince the parties to look across
the border. After all, in the second half of the 1980s, ‘Europe 1992’, the
year in which the internal market would be realized, had acquired a kind
of magic and brought a lot of attention to bear on the possible
‘disappearance’ of national borders.
The relationship between the European Unification discourse and
internationalization in general and the motivation of parties to seek
cross-border co-operation is rather indirect. The first attempts to create
co-operation in the Rhine-Scheldt Delta originated on the Dutch side of
the border. They were linked to the idea that European Unification and
internationalization would lead to territorial competition between regions
(Chesire & Gordon, 1995). As a result of increasing competition for
private investment between European regions and the economic crisis of
the 1980s, the Dutch national planning policy took a new direction in the
late 1980s. Previously, this policy was geared towards national cohesion
through a dispersal of functions and economic activities. However, from
the late 1980s onwards, the strengthening of the Randstad as the core
economic area became an important policy goal. It was up to the regions
outside the western part of the Netherlands to use ‘their own strength’.
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 137

These regions, such as the south-west of the Netherlands, particularly

feared that they would no longer benefit from investments in
infrastructure.
In other words, the increasing territorial competition discourse
contributed to the fear that border areas would become more peripheral,
instead of being the dynamic hotspots of the new borderless Europe. It
was the Chamber of Commerce – and one chairman in particular – that
actively pushed an economic development agenda for the region. This
agenda formed the point of departure for lobbying governments to enter
into a co-operation in the Rhine-Scheldt Delta, which resulted in the
establishment of a steering group composed of Dutch participants.

Keeping the balance while weight is distributed unequally

In the Dutch-Belgian border area two very different political and
planning cultures meet (De Vries & Van den Broeck, 1997). The Dutch
depoliticised planning culture leaves a relatively large space for the
manoeuvres of planning officials and other experts. In this bureaucratic
culture the use of written material is extensive. The making of spatial
plans suits this culture very well. Overall there is relatively high trust in
the ability of the government to operate successfully through planned
intervention. The Flemish politicised planning culture is nearly the
opposite. There is great distrust of government in general and with
respect to infringements on land ownership in particular. As a result,
resources for spatial planning in Flanders are much less, in terms of
personnel for example, than those available for Dutch planning. Apart
from the practical imbalances – how easy or difficult is it to send
personnel to meetings of the new co-operative network – these
differences contribute to two different narratives on either side of the
border. In the Netherlands, Belgium is not taken very seriously with
respect to spatial planning. In Flanders, the Netherlands is considered to
be arrogant with respect to spatial planning. In addition, with respect to
the results, many planners in Flanders consider Dutch planning
overrated.
When the above-mentioned Dutch steering group presented a
draft working plan and invited Flemish parties to discuss their possible
participation, they received a negative reaction. The differences between
the Netherlands and Flanders resulted in the Flemish participants, for
different reasons, being negative about the initiative. Firstly, the
presentation of a detailed, extensive and printed working plan did not
conform to the way the Flemish normally negotiate. In Flanders, a
document is only drawn up after a process of negotiation and the
establishment of consensus. Secondly, the Flemish were in the process of
138 Jochem de Vries

establishing a new regional planning policy and regional planning

bylaws that aimed at giving substantially more weight to planning
(Albrechts, 2001). Uncertainty about the institutional context of Flemish
planning – who would have which powers – and about the substance of
the policy, caused insurmountable problems. To the Flemish parties it
was unclear what the responsibilities of the co-operation would be and
what its compass would be. This seems to be in line with the conclusions
drawn by Hassink and Lagendijk, who quote Nauwelaers in this respect
(Hassink & Lagendijk, (2001). They consider an intraregional (in this
case Flemish) strategy helpful for interregional learning (in this case the
Rhine-Scheldt Delta).
After this aborted beginning it took another three years of
networking by the Secretariat-General of the Benelux to create a second
chance for the Rhine-Scheldt Delta co-operation.

Independent brokering a precondition

The impartiality of the Secretariat-General of Benelux is a factor that is
not to be underestimated in bringing the parties together. Although in the
early stages of the co-operation the stakes were not all that high, it is still
important, particularly when parties do not know each other very well,
for all participants to feel sure that the party that takes the initiative for
co-operation has no hidden agenda. The existence of the Secretariat-
General of the Benelux as an independent facilitator of cross-border co-
operation was an advantage, particularly in starting co-operation in the
Dutch-Belgian border region that is lacking in other border regions.
After the signing of the declaration of intent an independent manager
took over as an impartial broker of the co-operation.

5.2 Plan-making as a strategy for capacity building

Although the declaration of intent proposed a spatial development
perspective as the powerful centrepiece of the co-operation, discussion
soon arose concerning the desirability of such a plan. After some time it
was decided that a study balancing the pros and cons of such a plan
should be carried out to determine its desirability. A small planning team
of independent consultants was formed, which maintained intensive
contact with representatives of the different participants. This study led
to the conclusion that a plan was desirable and the planning team
continued drawing up a spatial development plan. This plan
subsequently formed the basis for a framework contract between the
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 139

partners. Below we treat the study, the actual plan and the framework
contract as one planning process (1997-2000).

Plan or projects
The discussion concerning the desirability and the function of a plan for
the Rhine-Scheldt Delta clearly illuminates one of the fundamental
problems of cross-border, if not every, form of capacity building. This is
the tension between planning as a form of communication – in which
problem-seeking and changing perceptions are predominant – and
planning as a form of implementation of pre-set goals. The need for a
plan, which reflects and formulates the raison d’être for co-operation is
balanced against the desire to reach concrete results in the form of the
implementation of projects.
At first, in the declaration of intent, the plan for the Rhine-
Scheldt Delta was seen as a programme for action. After the
determination of the desired main structure of the Delta, projects were to
be selected to realize this structure.
However, in the second instance, a consultant warned against this
strategy. The wide range of parties involved and the differences between
them carried the risk of not reaching a meaningful consensus on the
desired main structure. Furthermore, the scepticism amongst the parties
was great and as a result there was a need for quick success. The
consultant proposed a mixed model in which a few projects could be
started. At the same time a Spatial Development Perspective for the
Rhine-Scheldt Delta was produced. This document was primarily meant
to assist the parties in acquiring a sense of the region as a whole.
In the third instance, the parties began a couple of projects.12 The
mood towards the idea of the plan had become negative and there was a
fear that the process would lead to endless debate. On the other hand, it
was thought that projects could prove the decisiveness of the co-
operation.
In the fourth instance, when problems arose concerning the
realization of these projects, doubts entered the debates and voices were
raised in favour of a plan. A project could only be proof of decisiveness
if there was agreement about its purpose and the way to implement it.
Particularly when the interests of the harbours came into play, when
elaborating projects, this agreement did not appear to be there. As a
result, while working on the projects stakeholders began to ask
themselves to what larger purpose the project should contribute and how

12 Such as the creation of a database of land available for commercial use, and the
treatment and storage of polluted silt.
140 Jochem de Vries

Project A might relate to Project B. Consequently, two functions have

been bestowed upon the Spatial Development Perspective: a co-
ordinating device and a document that gave some purpose to the Rhine-
Scheldt Delta co-operation.

Complications in an open planning process in a cross-border setting

With respect to giving the plan substance, different important
phenomena should be mentioned. The drawing up of a plan as part of a
capacity-building effort should allow for an open planning process in
which a genuine opportunity is created for the emergence of new
perspectives. The experience in the Rhine-Scheldt Delta shows the
limitations to openness in a cross-border setting.
Firstly, a whole range of issues was effectively banned from the
discussion. At different stages in the process it was emphasized that the
tone of the debate should be positive, and opportunities, that is win-win
situations for co-operation, should be sought. In effect, the parties were
forbidden to raise sensitive issues such as policy conflicts across the
border. This can be seen as a case of not recognizing the negotiator’s
dilemma, as described above.
Secondly, the search for the content of the plan was dictated by
already existing plans for the region. The participants explicitly ordered
the planners to base themselves on the existing spatial plans. This led,
among other things, to the adoption of the categories used in the existing
plans, such as urban networks which are important spatial concepts in
Dutch and Flemish spatial planning policy. Thus the question of whether
these ‘national’ spatial planning concepts are the most suitable to frame
the issues that should be dealt with in cross-border settings remains
unanswered. This severely limits the creation of new ideas, which in the
end are essential for the promotion of reframing. A related restriction to
innovations was the emphasis on spatial planning policies, which
neglected policy fields that are highly relevant to cross-border co-
ordination, such as environmental and infrastructure planning and water
management.
Thirdly, interactive planning, while it may enrich a plan, has
proved to be too complicated. Although, as part of the process, different
meetings were organized to realize input by stakeholders (that is,
different representatives of the participating parties), in general these
meetings were disappointing. Two reasons for the obstruction of the
contribution of stakeholders can be identified. In the first place, the
questions put to them were too general. The planning team found it
difficult to provide sufficient content to guide the discussion, relying too
much on the expectation that this would simply arise out of the meetings
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 141

of stakeholders (contra Healey, 1997). This is, of course, always a

dilemma in interactive planning: to what extent should the debate be pre-
structured? At the very least, one could start with doubts about the
emergence of a debate from a situation where participants have very
different backgrounds and where their affinity with the subject under
discussion is limited. In the second place, it could be acknowledged that
the expectations of some of the participants would not be helpful. These
participants could best be described as ‘watchdogs’. They principally
participate in order to stop the discussion heading in a direction that is
unfavourable to their interests. This type of contribution was often
connected to hard economic interests around the harbours in the area.

Reducing complexity to workable proportions: indicating issues and

arenas
It is possible to interpret the planning process as a learning process
leading towards a plan that suited the situation. The group gradually
moved away from the idea of a comprehensive plan as the basis for co-
operation. The most important reason for this was the gradual acceptance
that a meaningful consensus about the desired spatial structure of the
region as whole was out of reach. Different divisions can be
distinguished. Obviously, the existence of the state border has resulted in
a separation of interests, notably where the interests of the harbours were
involved. However, it is not only the border that formed a line of
division. Those who promoted an economic development agenda
(predominantly a greater infrastructure agenda) and those who were in
favour of an environmental agenda, joined forces across the border, and
created a new division of opinion.
The point of departure of those in charge of drawing up the plan
was that the Rhine-Scheldt Delta is a unity in a variety of ways. The plan
speaks of different spatial systems. The functioning of each system
would benefit from co-operation at the level of the Delta. The choice of
systems was based, among other things, on the different expectations
among the stakeholders. The four systems were defined as the logistical-
industrial system, the ecosystem, the urban system and the leisure
system. The explicit recognition of these different views of the cross-
border region contributed to a depolarisation of the stakeholders.
The move from these different views to concrete action was
facilitated by the indication of subspaces within the region. The idea of
the logistical-industrial system focuses co-operative efforts in the
Rotterdam-Breda-Antwerp zone. The ecosystem focuses on the West
Scheldt and the environment. Both the logistical-industrial system and
the urban system draw attention to the Flushing-Terneuzen-Ghent zone.
142 Jochem de Vries

Co-operation in the field of leisure should focus on the coastal zone. The
plan names the partners involved in elaborating the strategy for a
subspace and appoints a leader who takes responsibility for organizing
the actions of participants. This leader is an administrator from one of
the stakeholders and is politically elected by the members of the co-
operation.
With respect to the elaboration of co-operation in these
subspaces, conflicts and opposing views will emerge. Whether these
problems are bridgeable remains to be seen. The chances for consensus
building around a common strategy are, in any case, better than on the
level of the whole Delta.

6 Discussion

After the completion of the Spatial Development Perspective, activities

focused on the subspaces. In two of the subspaces – around the Scheldt
and in the zone Ghent-Terneuzen-Flushing – the initiative, in the end,
was not managed by the Rhine-Scheldt Delta co-operation. Other
initiatives of cross-border co-operations in which Rhine-Scheldt Delta
parties were involved were in fact already doing what the Spatial
Development Perspective proposed. In the other subspaces – the corridor
between Rotterdam and Antwerp and the coastal zone – the co-operation
has led to new initiatives.
However, it must be noted that these actions are still very much
oriented towards creating a common knowledge base and for the time
being there has been next to no effect on the policies of the individual
parties, let alone spatial development.
All in all, it is easy not to be very optimistic about what has been
achieved by the Rhine-Scheldt Delta co-operation and the discussion will
shortly turn to the problems of capacity building in border areas.
Nevertheless, it must also be concluded that a network of nearly 40
interested parties has been created and maintained. In many cases
different sections of these organizations are connected to the network,
for example, the planning and the environmental department of a
province.
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 143

Figure 3. Sub-spaces of Rhine-Scheldt Delta

As a result, the creation of flexible coalitions, with enough mass, around

concrete issues has been facilitated. In this sense cross-border capacity
has increased over the last few years. One remark should accompany this
conclusion. The central governments – that is the Dutch national
government and the Flemish regional government – have in fact,
although not strictly formally, withdrawn from the co-operation. They
consider it primarily a regional affair. As a result, the capacity for
vertical co-ordination has not improved. This is a problem for a cross-
border region. When central governments isolate themselves from
regional governments with respect to cross-border issues, the network
cannot contribute to turning bilateral, distributive bargaining into
integrative, multi-party bargaining, which also includes regional and
local governments, in which those central governments are involved.
Nevertheless, the creation of the Spatial Development Perspective
also gave rise to critical comments with respect to capacity building.
Firstly, capacity building has the tendency to be biased by the ‘national’
ways that participants and knowledge are organised. Stakeholder
mapping and the subsequent selection of participants also has a tendency
144 Jochem de Vries

to be biased, in the sense that they follow national sector divisions. For
example, the emphasis on the spatial planning approach limited the
ability to create links to actors in the world of infrastructure. With
respect to knowledge, the Spatial Development Perspective had to rely
on other policy documents, which were developed in a national context.
Not only does the national perspective enter into the process, the
possibility of creating new knowledge as part of a consensus-building
process was also effectively denied by this limitation.
Secondly, overcoming the negotiator’s dilemma seems to be a
crucial precondition for establishing a dialogue that can contribute to
more integrative approaches. In the Rhine-Scheldt Delta co-operation the
procedural separation of distributive and integrative issues was achieved
only as a result of outside initiative, for example when central
governments label an issue to be resolved by bilateral negotiations. The
network would probably improve its ability to deliver results if it created
specific procedures for dealing with distributional conflicts.
Thirdly, with respect to spatial planning as a form of strategy-
making for cross-border capacity building, the experience in the Rhine-
Scheldt Delta gives rise to two remarks. The first is that the planner’s
preference for comprehensiveness and integration should be tempered.
The plurality of the context in which these plans are developed is simply
too large. A plan that contributes to capacity building does not need the
level of consensus that comprehensive plans need. Differences of
opinion can exist as long as there is a realistic prospect that new arenas
will be developed which provide opportunities for creating consensus on
a more limited scale (Albrechts, 2001b). The second is that the
theoretical emphasis on communicative planning, learning and reframing
might overlook the demands of planning practice to deliver concrete
results. An openness to the communicative dimensions of planning
teaches an appreciation of the effects the production of plans has on
capacity building. A closed attitude to the implementation of concrete
activities that have an effect in the ‘real’ world will cause plans to be
ignored completely by the participants. Maintaining the point of view
that a plan will cause an effect in the ‘real’ world is the best guarantee
that parties will remain interested and that reframing will occur.

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Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 147
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 147

8
Policies for planning the past:
paradigms and practice

Gregory Ashworth

Introduction

Environmental planners are confronted by the consequences of the

contemporary valuation of historicity and the decision to preserve relict
aspects of the past. Current attitudes towards the past as transmitted
through memory, history and physical artefacts need to be understood as a
preliminary to the planning and management of the past for various
contemporary purposes. This chapter explains the origins, nature and
consequences of the preservation, conservation and heritage paradigms. It
then describes how these have been applied in The Netherlands, within its
wider Western European context, and discusses the issues that have
resulted.
Professional courses in planning and in particular its practice,
focus most of their attention upon the ‘how’ questions (‘how should it be
done, how is it done and how can it be done better?’). The ‘why’
questions are often left to political decision makers or just accepted as
the reality of the social context within which planners work. However in
the field of heritage planning answers to the first set of questions are
largely dependent upon answers to the second. Therefore this chapter
will first trace the evolution of attitudes towards planning the inheritance
from pasts before considering the current state of heritage planning and
management in the Netherlands.
148 Gregory Ashworth

The ‘why’?’ questions

Why worry about planning the past?

Planning is an activity rooted in the needs of the present and
orientated towards provision for the future. The relevance of a concern
for the past thus needs justification. This rests upon two propositions.
First that many elements from former built and natural environments
survive in the environment. Buildings may stand for many centuries,
the morphological patterns of settlement structures for much longer and
physical landscapes may contain visible records of the intervention of
man over millennia. Relic features are thus an ever-present and
ubiquitous reality within which planners concerned for the future must
operate. Secondly, for many reasons whose elucidation is well beyond
the scope of this book, people have, in the last 150 years placed a value
upon historicity, whether this is expressed through the tangible built and
natural environments or through the intangible results of past
associations and memories. This valuation stems from perceived
contemporary needs and not from any supposed intrinsic attribute of the
past. The past, like the future is a state imagined from the standpoint of
the present but this does not render it less significant or deserving of
attention by planners. Indeed every other chapter in this book will be
forced to confront, explicitly or implicitly the consequences of this
valued historicity in the landscape and cityscape
The creation of heritage through, amongst other activities, the
preservation and interpretation of the built environment, is a practical
activity exercised most usually at the local level and most usually by public
officials. It is conducted within detailed legislative frameworks, local
policy guidelines and professional working practices. It is generally an
integral part of place management undertaken for a variety of collective,
usually public, goals. If it is thus a local and practical activity performed by
professional officials, the need for theorising requires some justification.
Heritage planning and management is not dissimilar from other aspects of
planning and place management. In particular it inevitably involves
selection: choice inevitably implies foregoing other non-selected
alternatives. In the field of building or landscape conservation these
choices are expressed quite simply in the series of questions: what should
be conserved, on the basis of which selection criteria, where, in what
quantity, and for what uses? How these questions are answered depends in
turn upon the wider approach being used. This simple and perhaps
seemingly self-evident point can be dignified by the use of the term
paradigm, which is no more than the premises upon which approaches to
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 149

the contemporary management of past built environments are based. A

complication is that over time different, and to an extent competing,
paradigms have merged which raises some central dilemmas and
difficulties inherent in all heritage management.

Paradigms
The two main paradigms can be simplified and labelled: “preservation”
and “heritage” (Figure 1). These terms are frequently used very loosely
and often indeed treated as synonyms. Here, however, each is strictly
differentiated and, as it will be argued, has essentially different
objectives, definitions of resources and the criteria for their selection,
views of the interpreted product, and wider strategies of intervention.
From this divergence stem differences of instruments, organisational
structures, working practices and approaches. These are just different
ways of viewing the past and especially its uses for the present.

Figure 1. Approaches to the management of the past

Preservation is protection from harm, whether the threat emanates

from natural or human processes. It is simple to define and to understand as
a planning activity, although the implications of its application can be far
more complex, as will be discussed below. As a paradigm it dominated
approaches to the management of the past from the pioneering years of the
mid-19th century through most of the last 150 years, and it is still a very
powerful idea among many in the field. Preservation powered influential
private organisations and pressure groups and shaped the creation of
comprehensive and rigorous legal frameworks and public financial subsidy
systems, enforced by well-established and often powerful state agencies in
most European countries.
150 Gregory Ashworth

The term “heritage” is used here with a specific definition that

contrasts it with preservation and is not, as is frequently the case, used to
describe almost anything inherited from a past or destined for a future. It
is important initially to be clear about the relationship of past and present
and the instruments of transmission between them (Figure 2). The past is
all that happened before the present. Only the present can actually be
experienced: both the past and the future are imagined, constructed
ideas. Such ideas are constructed with the help of physical relics,
memory whether individual or collective, and history, which is the
attempt of presents to describe aspects of pasts. The major defining
aspect of heritage is that it is the contemporary uses of the past. It thus
concerns that which the present considers itself to have inherited from an
imagined past and which it wishes to pass on as an inheritance to an
imagined future.

Figure 2. The transmission of pasts to presents

It could be added that there may be a third, intermediate, or transitional,

paradigm, namely “conservation.” Again the term is used here with a
distinctive meaning and not as frequently used, especially in North
American writing, as a synonym for preservation. Conservation
developed in Western Europe from the idea of preservation. It was a
logical extension of it and largely a result of the success of the
preservation movement in designating ever-lengthening lists of protected
buildings and areas. Conservation can be summarised as a series of “not
only but also” statements. Not only buildings but also ensembles are to
be preserved, selected not only by intrinsic but also extrinsic criteria and
managing not only forms but also functions. It is thus clearly not an
alternative to preservation but a series of compromises about the goals,
methods and focus of attention, resulting from the experience of
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 151

integrating preservation policies into more general local land-use

management in the course of the 1960s and 1970s. It was described most
succinctly in Burke’s classic definition of conservation as “preserving
purposefully”(Burke, 1976).
These three paradigms reflect a certain chronology in their adoption
as working methods, at least in the countries of North-western Europe.
There is, however, no implied progression of either logical inevitability or
desirability. In many instances all three such approaches can be
encountered simultaneously, each relying upon its own judicial and even
organisational structures and containing recognisable elements drawn from
more than one approach. In practice, historic sites and relict structures are
managed in a variety of quite different ways, even within the same national
or urban situation, and no single administrative or executive model can be
deduced or is being suggested.
The preservation paradigm has been paramount in the history of
our concern for the relics of the past. It was the first to develop; its
justifying assumptions pervade the normative discussion; and in practice,
the creators and curators of the critical resources, whether monuments,
sites, historic districts, or cities and regions, hold almost unanimously the
premises of this approach. This dominance of the traditional preservation
approach is being challenged and undermined by two trends. On the
demand side, the past is being consumed to an increasing extent, in an
increasing variety of ways, for the satisfaction of increasingly strongly felt
needs, whether political, social, psychological or economic. More and
more people want the “commodified” past now in more and more different
ways that owe nothing to the traditional preservation premises. Secondly,
and on the supply side, the providers of historic resources are becoming
increasingly dependent on these consumer demands for their financial,
political and ethical support. This dependence is a consequence of previous
successes, which have resulted in ever-increasing lists of monuments, sites
and historic districts. In any event, preservation organisations, management
systems and philosophies established in one set of circumstances are now
faced, however reluctantly, with the external pressures resulting from the
problems of success. The heritage planning approach has evolved largely,
if sometimes unconsciously, in response to these trends and now somewhat
uneasily coexists with the older more established preservation approach.
We can now proceed to examine the premises underlying both
preservation and heritage approaches in terms of the central elements of the
management process.
152 Gregory Ashworth

The objectives
The overall objective of preservation is in principle simple and clear, and
contains elements of a strong moral imperative. The really rather curious
and historically aberrant idea that aspects of past built environments should
be preserved has been a consensus among dominant intellectual elites in
Western countries for only about four generations, and a majority view of
citizens for probably no more than two (see the various historical accounts
in. Larkham, 1996; Ashworth and Howard, 2000).
The preservation movement has exhibited, during its short
existence, many of the characteristics of a crusade. It was seen as a
rescue operation, salvaging some small portion of the architectural and
landscape riches, which were, and still are, being destroyed at an
alarming rate. The rescue of almost any structure or place is thus viewed
as a self-evident contribution to the betterment of this and future
generations. The question “why”? is answered, on the rare occasions
when it is posed, by irrefutable general statements usually containing an
unargued “should.” “Our cities should provide visible clues to where we
have been and where we are going” (Ford, 1978: 253–73. Emphasis has
been added) or “the excitement of the future should be anchored in the
security of the past.” (Lynch, 1960).
The ultimate objective of preservation therefore is no less than the
total preservation of the preservable. To pose the question “how much/how
many”? is inappropriate. If each Notre Dame, Venice or Grand Canyon
makes a unique contribution to human welfare now and in the future, then
the question of how many Gothic cathedrals, historic cities or spectacular
landscapes we want or need to preserve cannot be asked. The objective of
preservation planning must be to preserve completely, and as the values are
not time-bound, forever, all that might be deemed preservable.
Once the past is viewed as a heritage resource to be sold to
consumers for their current consumption, then such questioning becomes
not only possible: it is essential. There are many contemporary reasons
why elements of the past should be remembered and memorialised (see
Lowenthal, 1985; Ashworth, 1991). The point is not just that there are
many uses of the past but that these use different products for different
markets. If there are many objectives, and many pasts, then there are thus
many options for development of any particular heritage. As all heritage
is selectable, it is equally rejectable. However, what we now reject, the
future may regard as selectable; and equally, what we now regard as
preservable, future generations may well reject. This is more than a
conceivable possibility: it is highly probable if we only can assume that
the future will have different needs and demands from the present.
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 153

There is thus no inevitable end-state. The “how much/how many”?

question is thus not only capable of being posed , it must be. What
proportion of any present land area or building stock should be
preserved, do we need and can we afford, before the capacity to change
becomes imperilled? The “heritage time-bomb” of financial
commitment, foreclosed options and ultimately fossilised places has
been examined by Burtenshaw et al. (1991) for Western Europe, and
Baer (1995) for North America. All heritage is an attempt to colonise the
future with our values burdening future generations with the consequences
of our present decisions. Such issues cannot be resolved in absolute,
immutable and indisputable terms, but they can and must be for a particular
time, place and society.

The Resources
Historic resources are often assumed to be in fixed supply both in the
sense that there is one unique irreplaceable Stonehenge or Taj Mahal and
also that there is in principle a finite quantity of the preservable. The
“listing” procedures, begun in most Western European countries in the last
quarter of the 19th century and in North America in the middle of the 20th
century (Fitch, 1995), all assumed that drawing up an inventory was a
once-forever task. Preservationists believe that an end-state can be reached,
when a complete inventory of a particular patrimony exists. This
assumption has so far proved incorrect: lists of monuments and areas have
continued to grow as more and more heritage resources are discovered.
Either there are just more resources than was originally expected or there is
in fact no limit.
Similarly, preservation assumes that any specific place has a fixed
endowment of historic resources, whether structures, sites or historic
associations. The only management option is to preserve, or not, some
proportion of this fixed quantity or a fixed past. The place management
authority is locked in by its resource endowment to a limited range of
options. The more valued the resource, the more complete is this lack of
choice, which is most apparent in the smaller European “gem” cities such
as Rothenburg, Ribe, Naarden, Aigues Mortes, Eger and the like (see
Ashworth and Tunbridge, 1990; 2000). Development options are almost
totally constrained by the existence, welcome or not, of the historic
resource, which determines the justification, selection, preservation
techniques, interpretation, products and markets, leaving little flexibility in
the choice of place planning or management goals or strategies.
Heritage, however, is created by a commodification process,
through which tradable products are created from historic resources in
order to satisfy various markets. The process of selection, packaging and
154 Gregory Ashworth

interpretation uses whichever resources from the past are required. In

this view resources are created, not discovered and preserved. It is not
just that previously overlooked pasts are now used, but also that the past
is not just what we care to remember but also what we care to imagine.
The past of Dickens and Brontë as well as Robin Hood and Ivanhoe have
been more recently joined by the cast of every television soap opera.
Resources are thus limited only by the capacity of the human
imagination to create them.
Among the many policy consequences of this is that places are
therefore not locked into an inescapable resource-bound heritage. The
past is an almost infinite quarry of resource possibilities, only a very
small fraction of which will ever be commodified as heritage. If the
interpretation, not the resource, determines the product, then many
different historic place-products can be sold at different times or even at
the same time, using the same resources in the same place but as
different products to different markets. The opportunities for
development strategies are obvious and there are many success stories in
the literature. Economically bankrupt, physically deteriorating and
negatively perceived 19th-century heavy industry cities, from Lowell,
Massachusetts, to Bradford, Yorkshire, can be revitalised using newly
created resources of industrial archaeology, social history and Victorian
literature. However, the disadvantage of these seemingly advantageous if
curious characteristics of the resource stem from the same qualities. If
everywhere has a unique, flexible and infinitely commodifiable past,
thus heritage is a game anywhere can play and everywhere probably will
at some time. Even our currently most successful heritage products, such
as Jane Austen’s Bath, Mozart’s Salzburg or Michaelangelo’s Florence,
are just ephemeral development options created by a fickle, fashion-
prone demand. The future is very likely to re-assess its resources and
create quite different products.

The Criteria for Selection

Selection of what is preservable is necessary and thus criteria must be
established. In the preservation paradigm the criteria for such selection
are assumed to be intrinsic to the monument, artefact or even site itself
(it is old, aesthetically beautiful or historically significant). At least in
theory such criteria are deducible and immutable in all such cases. This
premise would seem not to rule out moving buildings as long as
“authenticity of context” is not invoked. This is of course more the rule
than the exception: museum collections, “skansen”-type assemblies of
buildings collected from elsewhere, preserved buildings moved in toto
into museums (e.g. Lincoln’s cabin, Ottawa’s Rideau Chapel, Louis
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 155

Sullivan’s Chicago Stock Exchange trading floor), museum ships, and

the routine shifting of North American preserved buildings out of the
path of developments, could all be justified on the basis of intrinsic
criteria. Such criteria are in principle objectively determinable: all who
look can see. In practice, however, it is assumed that they can be
recognised and assessed only by the artistic taste leaders who declare, using
their skills, that a monument or site has self-evident value. These “experts”
thus play a critical role in deciding what is worth preserving. Most of the
protective legislation and national inventories state what appear to be
objective intrinsic criteria for listing or area designation, assuming that age,
artistic or historic “significance” and substantial “authenticity” are
recognisable and incontrovertible qualities.
Authenticity is, for preservationists, the ultimate determinant of
value and thus both a criterion and a justification. The most commonly
encountered rationale for preserving surviving buildings and sites is that
they represent an accurate record of what has occurred in, and what has
been produced by, the historical experience of occupation of a place.
New additions to the preserved stock must pass the test of authenticity of
both the object itself, and of its contribution to the accurate reflection of
the historical record as a whole, for it to be included. In addition,
authenticity is used as a test of the correctness of technique. The process
of preservation and subsequent interpretation will be judged against a
standard of authenticity which, if infringed, leads to a condemnation of
the process, interpretation or enjoyment as inauthentic and thus of lesser
value. The critical role, therefore, of expert authentication is obvious and
reflected in the inclusion of historic monument preservation at the
ministerial level most usually, with museums and arts funding in ministries
of culture rather than with local government or urban affairs. Such agencies
are likely therefore to be staffed by specialists in architecture or art history
and contribute to cultural policies rather than policies for urban
development or management.
However, authenticity is a “dogma of self-delusion” that does not
provide identifiable, self-evident criteria and creates many practical
problems. Any intervention affects the authenticity of the object, which
ceases to have a natural life-span and thus becomes fossilised in time and
also extracted, presumably, from its non-preserved spatial context, as
well as “sacralised” by the act itself that transforms a building into a
monument. Survival over time is a result of natural hazards, durability of
materials, fortunes of war, pressures for economic development and
social conservatism. Thus distortions to the accurate revelation of the
past exist even before its preservation has begun. Selection for
preservation is further likely to favour the spectacular over the mundane,
156 Gregory Ashworth

the large over the small, the beautiful over the ugly and the unusual over
the commonplace. Similarly in terms of management, protection from
natural or arbitrary human damage is almost never sufficient. It leads
inexorably and with no clear philosophical distinction to the maintenance
of what is, the replacement of missing or defective parts (e.g., almost
every medieval cathedral), restoration of what was but is no more, the
replica reconstruction of what might have been (e.g., the “Stoa” in
Athens), to the creation of what was, but somewhere else (Venetian
“palazzi” in Disney World; the Parthenon at Nashville, Tennessee; Anne
Hathaway’s Cottage in Victoria, Canada), to what could or should have
been but never was (e.g., Castell Coch, Wales; Dutch town, Nagasaki).
The criteria for heritage selection are sought not in the intrinsic
qualities of the forms but in the contemporary uses made of these. They
are therefore extrinsic and derived from various political, social or
economic benefits assumed to ensue from the process of heritage product
creation. Heritage is chosen not because it is valuable but because it has
valued effects. Such criteria are not self-evident, objectively
determinable nor stable in space and time. What is here or now considered
as valuable heritage resources may not be there or then.
Heritage is selected ultimately by the market, not the experts. The
focus of attention is not the preserved object but the user of it. The result
is the “sacralisation” of a place or object through interpretation, without
which it would otherwise be unremarkable or even physically
indistinguishable from others. The value created by this process of
“enshrinement” becomes cumulative as the initial marking is reinforced
by use, as the consumer’s interest is legitimated by the presence of other
users.
The idea of the existence of an objective, universal and
measurable set of intrinsic criteria is unhelpful in practice. Authenticity
in the sense of an accurate revelation, through architecture and urban
design, of the past as a fixed truth must be replaced by a more useful
concept. At a simple level the choice may therefore be not between
authentic and inauthentic preservation but a decision on how much
modification of authenticity is currently acceptable to users. The
argument can be taken further by shifting the focus of attention to the
consumer. “Real” and “contrived” are not recognisable qualities. From
the viewpoint of the user, authenticity lies in the nature of the
experience, not the object. Ultimately, then, authenticity is what and
where we experience it, and it is the nature and motives of the “we” in
these contexts that is worth investigating.
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 157

The Interpreted Product

Preservation assumes that the preserved building/site has a single, stable,
universal meaning and market. If there is an informed expert consensus
on the objective of preservation, on the criteria for its selection and on
the manner of its consumption, then it is assumed that it always conveys
the same experience to the consumer. In marketing terms not only is
there a single non-segmented market but also the buyer-benefit obtained
is always the same. In semiotic terms the meaning is universal and
stable. Interpretation, therefore, is a barely tolerated intermediary
between the “intent of the artist” (or the “message of the past”) and the
receptive observer. Indeed the need for any interpretation other than the
authentication (“this is a genuine...,” “on this very spot...,” “... slept
here” etc) will be viewed as distracting (“the work speaks for itself”), or,
by definition of an appropriate customer, unnecessary (“if you do not
know, then you should not be here”). Deviations from this will be
denigrated as “bowdlerisation” if the message is incorrect,
“popularisation” if it is for an insufficiently informed market, or
“commercialisation” if it is performed for private profit.
Taken further, if interpretation is obvious, minimal and seen as
merely descriptive (helping the artefact communicate its intrinsic and
immutable worth to the visitor) then the idea that interpretations of the
past should play contemporary political or social roles will be denied or
at least distanced as mere propaganda. The preserver, and presenter of
the preserved, is only preserving and presenting what was, and is not
responsible for any extrinsic values that might intrude upon this.
Heritage, however, is invariably multi-sold, and its interpretation
is polysemic and unstable through time. First, the interpretation not only
enhances or packages the product; it is the product. Therefore different
products can be created from the same resources by different
interpretations. This permits multi-selling if markets can be segmented,
separated and targeted. It also allows the product-line to be successively
developed to satisfy a continuously developing demand. Secondly, the
same resource is capable of being used to convey a variety of different
messages either successively or simultaneously to different consumers.
Thirdly, what is considered to represent the past, and thus be worthy of
passing on to a future, is itself an ephemeral judgement of a present that
is choosing which past it wishes to represent it at that moment. The
physical durability of many heritage products means that they are likely
to endure longer than their initial interpretation, which in turn determines
that much of the effort of heritage planning is in practice not the creation
of new resources but the reinterpretation of existing heritage products.
Cities, their buildings, monuments, memorials and even nomenclature
158 Gregory Ashworth

are in a process of almost continuous reinterpretation as the needs of

producers and consumers change. This reinterpretation process is never
complete; any specific place is generally a cacophony of past and present
messages, many of which will be now contradictory, undesirable or just
not decodable.

The Place Management Strategies

Relating the conservation of the urban built environment to the broader
management of cities again produces two contrasting positions.
Preservation assumes an inherent conflict between preservation and
development, as stability and change are juxtaposed and preservation is
viewed as a brake selectively applied to slow the pace of change. There
is a perceived trade off between the past and the future, at least in the
sense that future developments must be stopped, managed, or at worst
accepted grudgingly. The effects of preservation upon urban functions
pose secondary post-hoc problems as the act of protection (monument
listing or historic city designation) is itself the objective and, once
achieved, the process is logically complete and the consequences
immaterial. Of course in practice the defensive policy of mere
preservation from harm almost inevitably leads on to active intervention
to maintain the monument, site or district in its current state. Almost
inevitably the fact of preservation leads to a series of economic, social
and political consequences. In local physical planning terms the
preservation of urban forms has a direct and obvious impact upon their
current functions. Preservation does not deny the importance of these
consequences but regards them as a secondary problem that does not
enter into the original preservation decision nor influence the
preservation management. A major practical consequence of this position
is that increases in the contemporary use of the preserved product must be
met by managing and, if necessary, restricting demand. If conflict occurs
between form and function, even if such conflict is occasioned by the
preserved form generating increased demands through the very intrinsic
values that led to its preservation, then an absolute priority is accorded to
preservation over use. The consumer of the preserved artefact is tolerated
for so long as the consumption is for the approved motives and in the
correct manner, but is accorded no absolute rights to experience what has
been preserved. Demand is to be managed and, if necessary, restricted to
match the fixed capacity of supply even to the extent of its total permanent
exclusion.
Heritage is a function and thus a development option: there is
therefore no inherent contradiction between heritage and development,
as the former is just an option for the latter. There are many urban
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 159

development strategies that make some use of heritage, but equally it

must be accepted that some developments preclude any role for the
commodified past. Heritage does not preclude development but also is
not essential to it. Consequently, therefore, heritage planning cannot be
isolated from other planning strategies; still less is it a special form of
planning applicable only in a special type of city or district.
Logically the over-use of heritage products is impossible:
increases in demand for the product are met by increasing supply. The
demand creates the product, which activates the resources, and therefore
excessive demand should be met homeostatically by either increased
supply or rising prices and falling demand. There are of course many
occasions when this does not occur and overuse is evident. These can be
regarded as failures of an inadequately operating market or symptoms of
a faulty management of demand, not a limited supply of resources.
Heritage planning therefore creates more options and fewer constraints
than are allowed by the premises of preservation planning but equally
presents more choices, with fewer absolute principles governing their
outcome.

The ‘How’ questions.

Strengths of heritage planning in the Netherlands

A quick review of the strengths and achievements of official practice in
this field in The Netherlands inevitably starts, and for many ends, with
money. There has just been more investment, both public and private, in
the preservation, renovation and rehabilitation of historic buildings,
areas, cities and landscapes in this country over the last 30 years than in
most other countries. There is never enough finance and no system is so
comprehensive that everything of value to anyone is preserved but
government heritage agencies in neighbouring countries look with envy
upon this aspect of public policy in the Netherlands.
Less obvious but probably more fundamentally important is
public consciousness. Unlike many other aspects of planning, concern
for heritage has historically been initiated and led by public opinion,
albeit initially the opinion of a vocal and influential minority.
Governments followed with some reluctance while academics trailed
further behind in attempting to understand what was occurring. We have
now reached a position where there is a clear majority popular
consensus, which is passively in favour of the preservation of aspects of
the past but also actively involved in many ways. This is manifest not
only in numerous surveys but also by the millions that take part in the
annual National Monument day and the thousands active in Heemschut
160 Gregory Ashworth

and the myriad of societies campaigning for particular localities, periods

or types of artefact.

Figure 3. The designation of national monuments (Rijksmonumenten) in

The Netherlands

The Rijksdienst Monumentenzorg (State service for the care of

monuments’)’, together with the unique but largely unsung inspection
service, the ’Monumentenwacht’ (‘Monument watch’) can complacently
regard its success as measured in the ever lengthening monument lists in
various categories, and the ever widening extent of conservation area
protection (Figures 3/4). The largely architects and historians of the
RDMZ in Zeist Castle were, with whatever reluctance, dragged by
popular opinion to extend their remit to include first, ‘young’ (1910-
1940) and now even younger (1940-1965) monuments but also into a
wider variety of artefacts, including domestic and industrial heritage
(Berends, 2003: 21).
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 161

Figure 4. The designation of conservation areas (beschermde

stads(dorps)gezichten) in The Netherlands

Mention should also be made of the provincial inventarisation of

potential heritage resources in the so-called ‘cultural-historic atlases’, the
rapid recent incorporation of the consequences of the Valletta Agreement
on archaeological sites into land use planning practice and indeed the
establishment of the concept of the ‘bodemarchief’ (BBA or ‘archive of
the ground’). As significant as all these legislative and administrative
achievements is that the occupation, by these agencies of the moral high
ground has become largely unassailable.
Finally, conservation planning has been effectively integrated
into an already highly effective public spatial planning system. A high
proportion of both the built environment and rural landscapes are
conserved and managed under some type of formal heritage designation.
It is safe to say that the Netherlands has one of the densest
concentrations of protected structures and most extensive coverage of
conserved areas in the world. It is a clear manifestation of the magnitude
of the achievements that many would now argue that the remaining
problems are those stemming directly from success. Whereas previously
change was opposed by preservation now it is the very capacity to
change that must be preserved.
162 Gregory Ashworth

Weaknesses in Heritage Planning in The Netherlands

All this appears such a success that to question any aspect of it may
appear an ungrateful undermining of so much that has been achieved in
the years since the 1961 Monumentenwet. Worse still is the crusade over
(Lowenthal, 1996), have we won and is there anything left to fight for?
Fundamentally, the conceptual basis remains confused and
doubtful leading to a failure to internalise the paradigm shifts within the
planning system. In practice the focus of the official agencies mentioned
above remains upon the supposed intrinsic values of the object, artefact
and site rather than the values ascribed by contemporary people to them.
Neither the human past nor the physical landscape has any intrinsic value
to modern societies. People ultimately create the heritage they need by
ascribing extrinsic value. If so, then the dynamism of societies becomes
the critical variable. The failure to incorporate social change, including
those encapsulated in words such as individualisation, globalisation and
multiculturalism is now evident. Much official public heritage remains
monotonal, reflecting assumptions and values of a society that largely no
longer exists, if it ever existed outside the official imagination. A
fragmented society will produce a ‘heritage in fragments’ (Ennen, 1999)
In more practical terms the implications of the ever-lengthening
lists and ever widening scope of monument and area protection have yet
to be fully appreciated and incorporated into planning. Heritage
planning is no longer a special concern for particular parts of exceptional
places but is an inescapable part of the everyday life of ordinary people
in ordinary places. Kuipers (2002) has examined aspects of this ‘living
in the past’ reviewing the interaction between official heritage
designations of buildings and areas and the everyday lives of people with
an imposed historicity. By extension such topics as ‘working in the past’
or ‘playing in the past’ remain largely unexplored.
Thirdly, in the current frantic search for identity within groups,
communities and not least places, heritage is playing a major, if
frequently ambiguous, role in the shaping and expression of such
identities. The Belvedere Programme represents a token of the best and
the worst in Dutch official thinking on this topic (OCW, LNV, VROM,
VW, 1999). The levels of public investment and more significantly of
official attention is obviously welcome as is the stimulation of debate on
heritage matters at all levels of government. However, its approach is
fundamentally preservationist and thus defensive with its objective being
the creation of some counter poise to the consequences of economic and
social globalisation (Ashworth and Kuipers, 2001). It exhibits a quite
fundamental misunderstanding of the relationships of landscapes and
cityscapes to place identities and of people to their pasts. The idea that
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 163

local identity is a fixed characteristic of places that needs only to be

discovered and preserved is false and, worse, ignores the diversity of
people in creating diverse identities.

Issues in Heritage Planning

Despite the clear successes there remain four major gaps, which can be
briefly mentioned in an ascending order of seriousness and difficulty.
There is an organisational gap between the selection and
management of heritage resources and heritage users. The former are
usually in the public sector and enthused by political and cultural
motives while the latter are far more diverse in motive, expectation and
experience. Even within public agencies the political and administrative
responsibilities for different elements of heritage are often highly
fragmented with a strong tendency towards the separation of heritage
planning from other aspects of the planning process.
There are various gaps between the different users of heritage.
This may between the economic functions and the cultural, social and
political users, most obviously evident in the frictions caused by the
tourism industry’s use of heritage as a zero-priced, freely accessible
public good. This ultimately relates to the ‘whose heritage?’ question
and the need to go beyond mere multiple answers to management
policies that reflect the intrinsic multi-use characteristics of most
heritage resources.
There is a gap between the official and the popular; the expert
professional and the unselfconscious vernacular; the approved culture
and the alternative counter-culture. Heritage is still the main vehicle in
society for the socialisation of the subordinate and the legitimation of the
dominant, as well as simultaneously being a source of individual
fulfilment, articulation and gratification. The answer to the ‘who
decides?’ question can only be that heritage is created by both
governments and people and effecting a reasonable stable and tenable
concordance between top-down and bottom-up approaches is inevitably
difficult.
Finally there is a gap between our increasingly atomised,
consumerist and culturally pluralist society and the corporate
collectivism that shaped our present heritage stock and still dominates
the practice of the selection, management and interpretation of public
heritage. The needs, expectations and values of contemporary people in
this country are seriously discordant with the official heritage with which
they are expected to identify. The past, the heritage and the identity can
164 Gregory Ashworth

now only be interpreted and understood if each element in this triad is

pluralized.
These problems are not especially unique to The Netherlands but
given the previous successes and the reasons for them, it is in something
of a unique position to confront and resolve them.

References

Ashworth, G.J. (1991), Heritage planning: conservation as the management of urban

change. Geopers, Groningen.
Ashworth, G.J and P. Howard (2000), European heritage planning and management,
Intellect, Exeter.
Ashworth, G.J. and M.J. Kuipers (2001), Conservation and identity: a new vision of
pasts and futures in The Netherlands. European Spatial Research and Policy 8
(2) 55-65.
Ashworth, G.J. and J.E. Tunbridge (1990), The tourist-historic city Belhaven, London
Ashworth, G.J. and J.E. Tunbridge (2000), Retrospect and prospect on the tourist historic
city, Elseviers, London
Berends, R. (2003), Pocket Monumenten. SDU Uitgevers, Den Haag.
Burke, G. (1976), Townscapes. Penguin, Harmondsworth.
Burtenshaw, D.M., G. J. Bateman, G. J. Ashworth (1991), The European city: western
perspectives, Fulton, London
Baer, W. C. (1995), When old buildings ripen for historic preservation: a predictive
approach to planning, Journal of the American Planning Association 61(1)
82–94.
Ennen, E. (1999), Heritage in fragments: the meaning of pasts for city centre residents.
Nederlandse Geografische Studies, Groningen.
Fitch, J.M.(1995), Historic preservation: curatorial management of the built world
University Press of Virginia, Chalottesville
Ford L (1978), Continuity and change in historic cities, Geographical Review 68 (3)
253–73.
Kuipers, M.J. (2002), Consequences of designating the recent past: Korreweg-district,
Groningen, The Netherlands. International journal of heritage studies 8, nr. 1,
53-62.
Larkham, P.J. (1996), The Conservation of Cities, Routledge, London
Lowenthal, D. (1985), The past is a foreign country Cambridge University Press,
Cambridge
Lowenthal, D. (1996), Possessed by the past: The heritage crusade and the spoils of
history Free Press, Toronto
Lynch, K. (1960), The image of the city, MIT Press, Cambridge, Massachusetts
What time is this place? Cambridge: The M.I.T. Press.
Tunbridge, J.E. (1984), Whose heritage to conserve? Cross cultural reflections upon
political dominance and urban heritage conservation. Canadian Geographer
28 171-80
OCW, LNV, VROM, VW (1999), Belvedere: beleidsnota over de relatie cultuurhistorie
en ruimtelijke inrichting. Den Haag: VNG-uitgeverij.
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 165

9
Forecasting in planning

Paul Ike and Henk Voogd

1 Introduction

Planning is concerned with a deliberate set of actions aimed at

improvements in future qualities that would not otherwise be realized
within a given time. This description indicates that ‘the future’ is a key
concept in planning. However, the word ‘qualities’ also implies that the
future is not an objective reality but rather a subjective construction.
Evidently, each person has his or her own interpretation of the meaning
of ‘good quality’. A forecast is a statement about future conditions and
therefore is always arbitrary, rather than being ‘a statement of fact’.
The term ‘forecasting’ is often used for both quantitative predictions of
future developments and for qualitative explorations of possible futures
(Armstrong, 1985; Makridakis et al., 1998; Pourahmadi, 2001). In this
paper we will discuss both types of forecasts and their use in
environmental and infrastructure planning.

2 Qualitative forecasting

Qualitative forecasting methods principally rely on personal judgements

to generate forecasts. These methods consist of guidelines or procedures
for gathering the opinions of experts, stakeholders or other interested
parties. Qualitative methods can be used when one or more of the
following conditions occur:
166 Paul Ike and Henk Voogd

• There is little or no historical data on the variables to be forecast

• The relevant environment is likely to be unstable during the
forecast horizon
• The forecast has a long time horizon, that is, five years or more.
The two most popular qualitative approaches will be briefly discussed
here: the ‘Delphi method’ and the ‘Scenario’ approach.
2.1 Delphi method

An interactively structured collection of anonymous opinions is often

called a Delphi method (Sackman, 1975; Kenis, 1995). The anonymous
exchange of opinions is the most important characteristic of a Delphi
approach, as in a group setting opinions can be influenced by many
things, including the dominant positions of some participants, personal
characteristics and ‘alleged expertise’. It is less meaningful to strive for a
consensus forecast by just putting all the experts in a room and letting
them ‘argue it out’. This method falls short because those individuals
with the best group interaction and persuasion skills often control the
situation.
The Delphi method was originally developed in the 1950s by the
RAND Corporation, a US Intelligence think tank. It had its greatest
triumphs in the 1960s and 1970s (Linstone and Turoff, 1975). However,
in the last decade we have seen a strong revival due to, among others
reasons, modern computer techniques for organizing such brainstorming
sessions in a network setting, so-called ‘groupware’. At present, many
consulting firms have their own approach to structured brainstorming
and, of course, their own ‘trade name’. Evidently, recent interest in
collaborative approaches and consensus planning is another important
reason for the application of this method (Woltjer, 2000).
The basic structure of a procedure according to the Delphi
method is as follows:
1. The selection of participants.
2. An initial set of questions sent to all participants. For example, in the
case of a forecast they can be asked for estimates of certain variables at a
future time, for the likelihood that these estimates will be realized, for
minimum and maximum estimates, and last but not least, the reasons for
these estimates.
3. The co-ordinator, or computer program, then tabulates or summarizes
the outcomes into, for example, expected or average figures.
4. Results are then returned to each participant along with anonymous
statements and they are asked to review their earlier opinion.
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 167

5. The process continues until little or no change occurs. The end result
may then be seen as a consensus solution.
A strong point of this approach is that it can be applied under
many circumstances since it is not strictly dependent on a priori
information. A brief fact sheet, a long report or a presentation of the
problem under consideration may, of course, benefit the thinking of
participants, but the original idea is that each participant enters the
procedure with only his or her own basic knowledge. The process of the
group creation of judgmental forecasts is largely one of reasoning and
argumentation. These reasons and justifications underpinning the
forecast may be crucial in persuading outsiders to accept the outcomes.
A weak point is that the final result will always depend on the people
who are invited to participate, on their ability to think along the lines
required and to express themselves clearly. Also, a consensus solution
may give a false idea of ‘certainty’, but in planning, ‘consensus’ usually
has a much higher priority than attempting to predict certainty in a future
that is intrinsically uncertain.

2.2 Scenario approach

Wiener and Kahn (1967) introduced the notion ‘scenario’ in their book
‘The Year 2000’. A scenario is a narrative forecast that describes a
potential course of events. It should recognize the interrelationships of
system components. A scenario is a "script" for defining a possible
future including likely impacts on the other components and the system
as a whole.

I II III
Figure 1. Scenarios describe the present situation (I) and possible future
situations (III) and a plausible route between both (II)

Scenarios are written as long-term predictions of the future. A proper

scenario involves a description of a future situation (III in Figure 1) and
the course of events (II) that enables a system to move forward from the
168 Paul Ike and Henk Voogd

original situation (I) to the future situation (III). Scenarios often consider
events such as new technology, population shifts, changing economic
situations, for example, regarding consumer preferences, and different
levels of government involvement, for example through investments.
The primary purpose of a scenario is to provoke thinking of
policymakers who can then posture themselves for the fulfilment of the
scenario(s). A most likely scenario is usually written, along with at least
one optimistic and one pessimistic scenario, but of course other
assumptions can also be used as leading motive.
Two major types of scenario are often identified:
- Projective scenarios (sometimes also called exploratory
scenarios): starting from past and present trends and leading to a
likely future;
- Prospective scenarios (or anticipatory or normative scenarios):
built on the basis of different visions of the future that may be
desired or, on the contrary, feared.
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 169

(adapted from Coates, 1996)

Figure 2. Example of an integrated scenario-working scheme

170 Paul Ike and Henk Voogd

Source: Das et al (1966)

Figure 3. A 1966 view on the future of Amsterdam in 2000

The preparation of a prospective scenario is also known as backcasting

(Dreborg, 1996). It involves working backward from a particular
desirable future endpoint to determine the physical feasibility of that
future and what policy measures would be required to reach it (see for
examples: Hojer, 1998). In Figure 2 an integrated working scheme is
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 171

outlined that includes both a prospective and projective approach. This

scheme is robust, i.e. it can be combined both with a Delphi-approach
and with quantitative forecasting.
Visions of the future are of course very speculative, but very
interesting for the exploration of new avenues of thought. See for
example Figure 3, which is borrowed from a 1966 book on urban
planning (Das et al., 1966). It shows a number of developments that are
still ‘futuristic’ today, after 2000. For instance, the public resistance
against demolition of houses for new developments has clearly been
underestimated.

2.3 An example: Transit-Oriented Development

The Scenario approach can combine very well with the Delphi method.
An example, borrowed from Nelson and Niles (2000), will be briefly
summarized here. It concerns a study of a transit-oriented development
(TOD). This is a mix of shopping, service, and recreational activities at
urban centres linked together by a high quality transit system that
induces citizens to drive less and to walk and use the transit system more
often. Transit-Oriented Development (TOD) has rapidly emerged as the
central urban planning paradigm in the United States. Leaders in many
metropolitan areas have made, or are contemplating making, major
investments in new rail transit capacity under the assumption that
synergy between compact, mixed-use development and mass transit will
change car-dependent growth and travel patterns.
The success of the TOD concept (Figure 4) depends greatly on
the response of developers, consumers, and other economic actors to the
new land use-transportation configuration. This has been a reason for
applying a combined Delphi-Scenario method to learn more about
potential effects. A multidisciplinary panel was created that included
urban planners, architects, urban geographers, urban economists,
commercial developers, store site selection managers, transportation
planners, and environmental organization representatives.
172 Paul Ike and Henk Voogd

(Source: Nelson and Niles, 2000)

Figure 4. Theoretical Framework TOD

Before undertaking the assessment exercise, they had to specify the

problem and establish the purposes, goals, objectives, boundaries, and
other important components of the TOD scenario exercise. Table 1
briefly describes some specific steps in the process.
According to Nelson and Niles (2000), the approach of Table 1
provides several advantages over other methods. It allows the setting up
of a planning horizon that reflects the uncertainty inherent in these
forces. In the ideal case, it would precede decisions to invest in transit
capacity and would permit the involvement of a broader range of
expertise than is normally the case in transportation and land-use
planning. For example, retail industry site selection managers would
share equal status with regional transportation planners. Most, if not all,
of the significant forces shaping urban form would be considered. The
land use-transportation scenarios evaluated would not be limited to the
regional planning vision and to no-build or build transportation
alternatives. Through the iterative process, other perspectives would be
considered until a consensus is reached on a feasible scenario that is
compatible with the forces shaping the urban environment.
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 173

Step Scope

Describe present retail Present urban structure including retail market,

structure/patterns travel patterns, past trends

Identify forces shaping Understanding and subjective weighting of

urban form forces: economic, environmental, social, and
technological. Focus on current and future market
trends: commercial development, consumer
behaviour, non-work travel patterns

Specify TOD scenario Likely station-area locations and types

(residential, retail, employment, mixed)

Specify transit system Size and quality of transit afforded under fiscal
constraints

Define success Economic, societal, personal, and environmental

benefits and costs; elaborate 16 planning factors;
establish planning horizon

Evaluate success Identification of constraints and supporting

policies to achieve feasibility; adaptation to new
knowledge and consideration of alternative
solutions as needed
(Source: Nelson and Niles, 2000)
Table 1. Stages in Delphi-scenario approach for TOD

With a multi-disciplinary Delphi panel, broader social equity questions

would also likely be considered, as well as a range of opportunity costs.
The process can be open to the public in ways that quantitative
forecasting cannot be. The empirical data, estimates, and assumptions
would be available for public inspection. A report might be issued after
each step, which would allow stakeholders, including elected officials,
the opportunity to provide feedback throughout the effort. Information
considered and techniques used would be transferable across regions.

3 Quantitative forecasting

Quantitative forecasting methods use numerical empirical data to

forecast the future. The objective of these methods is to study past events
in order to understand the underlying structure of the data and use that
knowledge to predict future occurrences. Quantitative methods can be
used in planning when one or more of the following conditions occur:
174 Paul Ike and Henk Voogd

• A sufficient and consistent set of historical data on the

variables to be forecast
• The likely stability of the relevant environment during the
forecast horizon
• The forecast has a short time horizon, that is, five years or
less.
The two most popular quantitative approaches will be briefly discussed
here: ‘Time series’ forecasting, which involves projecting future values
of a variable based on past and current observations of the variable
(Pourahmadi, 2001; Chatfield, 1996; Weigend and Gershenfeld, 1994;
Box and Jenkins, 1970) and ‘Causal’ forecasting, which involves finding
factors that relate to the variable being predicted and using those factors
to predict future values of the variable (Makridakis et al., 1998;
Morrison, 1991; Wyatt, 1989; Anas, 1987; Wesolowsky, 1976).
3.1 Time series methods

A times series refers to data which is ordered according to the time of

collection, usually spaced at equal intervals such as years. A planner is
sometimes involved in a process whereby a forecast is needed for a
variable with an unknown theoretical relationship to other predicting
variables, for example, due to a lack of data. For instance, times series
methods may be appropriate for forecasting in such cases as price
developments over time in some sectors of real estate. Three specific
time series methods are:
• Moving average
• Exponential smoothing
• Least squares trend analysis

The ‘moving average’ method is one of the simplest methods of

forecasting. It assumes that a future value will equal an average of past
values. The moving average method uses an average of a number of
prior periods to forecast the next period. If a 2-period moving average is
calculated, the average for the two prior periods is used as the forecast
for the third period.
‘Exponential smoothing’ is a technique for averaging current and past
observations in a time series. The procedure is based on a period-by-
period adjustment of the latest smoothed average. Single exponential
smoothing models require three items of data:
• The most recent forecast
• The most recent actual value
• A smoothing constant
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 175

The smoothing constant or ‘damping factor’ (w) determines the weights

given to the most recent past observations and, therefore, controls the
rate of smoothing or averaging. The constant’s value must be between
zero and one. The equation for the exponential smoothing model is:
(1) Ft = wAt – 1 + (1 - w)Ft – 1

Where: Ft = exponentially smoothed forecast for period ‘t’

At – 1 = actual value in prior period
F t – 1 = exponentially smoothed forecast for prior period
w = smoothing constant or weight

To begin using the exponential smoothing method, the first actual value
is usually chosen as the forecast value for the second period. The lower
the smoothing factor is, the higher the importance attached to the most
recent data (see Figure 5).

0.8

0.6 w = 0.500
Weight

w = 0.667
0.4 w = 0.900

0.2

0
1 2 3 4 5 6
Periods Back

Figure 5. Influence of smoothing factor

The least squares method can also be used to determine the trend line.
The method involves fitting a linear trend line through time-series data to
obtain an equation for a line of the form:

(2) Yt = b0 + b1Xt

Where: Yt = forecast value for time t

Xt = year
b0 = intercept of the trend line with the vertical axis, and
176 Paul Ike and Henk Voogd

b1 = slope of the trend line

The least squares technique means that the line is fitted so that
the squared deviations between the predicted (forecasted) values and the
actual values are minimized. Regression analysis is used to determine the
trend line, whereby the years are the independent variable.
By using the least squares method also other functions than a
straight line can be fitted to the data. Options include logarithmic,
polynomial, power, and exponential functions.

Figure 6. Decomposition of a data pattern

A forecast can be improved if the underlying factors of a data pattern can

be identified and forecasted separately (e.g. see Figure 6). Breaking
down the data into its component parts is called decomposition. For
example, it can be assumed that housing sales are affected by four
factors: the general trend in the data, general economic cycles,
seasonality, and irregular or random occurrences. Considering each of
these components separately and then combining them together makes
the forecast.
A well-known forecasting method is ARIMA (Autoregressive
Integrated Moving Average), also known as the Box-Jenkins approach.
This method uses auto regression, differencing, and moving averages to
estimate time series variables. Auto regression is the relationship of
each value in a series to previous values. Differencing looks at the
changes from one observation to the next and is used to stabilize a time
series that seems to vary erratically. In a moving average process each
value is determined by the average value of the current disturbance and
one or more previous disturbances; a disturbance affects the value of the
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 177

dependant variable for a finite number of periods and then abruptly

ceases to affect it. Specialized computer software is necessary to use the
ARIMA forecasting method and it requires a large amount of data,
which is seldom available in spatial planning settings.

3.2 Causal forecasting

Causal methods search for factors that relate to the variable being
predicted. Those factors are then used to predict future values of the
variable. Causal methods include:
• Multiple regression analysis
• Econometric models
• Simulation models.

Multiple regression analysis is often used to learn more about the

relationship between several independent or predictor variables and a
dependent variable. The general computational problem that needs to be
solved in multiple regression analysis is to fit a straight line to a number
of points. A line in a two dimensional or two-variable space is defined
by the equation

(3) Y=a+b*X

or in words, the Y variable can be expressed in terms of a constant (a)

and a slope (b) times the X variable. The constant is also called the
intercept and the slope is known as the regression coefficient. In the
multivariate case, when there is more than one independent variable, the
regression line cannot be visualized in the two-dimensional space, but
can be computed just as easily. Multiple regression procedures will
estimate a linear equation of the form:

(4) Y = a + b1*X1 + b2*X2 + ... + bp*Xp

In equation (4) the regression coefficients (or B coefficients) represent

the independent contributions of each independent variable to the
prediction of the dependent variable. Another way to express this fact is
to say that, for example, variable X1 is correlated with the Y variable,
after controlling for all other independent variables. This type of
correlation is also known as a partial correlation.
The following example may clarify this issue. One would
probably find a significant negative correlation between Internet use and
household income, that is, it is probable that low-income families use the
178 Paul Ike and Henk Voogd

Internet more frequently. At first this may seem odd; however, if we

were to add the variable ‘level of urbanization’ into the multiple
regression equation, this correlation would probably disappear. This is
because in cities, on average, people have better Internet infrastructure
and facilities, for example, access to broadband cable and ADSL, but
low-income families also tend to be concentrated in cities. Thus, after we
remove this geographical difference by entering the urbanization level
into the equation, the relationship between household income and
Internet use disappears because household income does not make any
unique contribution to the prediction of Internet use, above and beyond
what it shares in the prediction with variable urbanization level. Put
another way, after controlling for the variable urbanization level, the
partial correlation between income and use of the Internet is zero.
The regression line expresses the best prediction of the dependent
variable (Y), given the independent variables (X). However, reality is
rarely (if ever) perfectly predictable, and usually there is substantial
variation of the observed points around the fitted regression line. The
deviation of a particular point from the regression line (its predicted
value) is called the residual value. The smaller the variability of the
residual values around the regression line relative to the overall
variability, the better is our prediction. If there is no relationship between
the X and Y variables, then the ratio of the residual variability of the Y
variable to the original variance is equal to 1.0. However, if X and Y are
perfectly related then there is no residual variance and the ratio of
variance would be 0.0. Usually the ratio falls somewhere between these
extremes, that is, between 0.0 and 1.0. 1.0 minus this ratio is referred to
as R-square or the coefficient of determination. This value is
immediately interpretable in the following manner. If we have an R-
square of 0.4 then we know that the variability of the Y values around
the regression line is 1-0.4 times the original variance; in other words we
have explained 40% of the original variability, and are left with 60%
residual variability. Ideally, we would like to explain most if not all of
the original variability. The R-square value is an indicator of how well
the model fits the data (e.g., an R-square close to 1.0 indicates that we
have accounted for almost all of the variability with the variables
specified in the model).
Usually, the degree to which two or more predictors (independent
or X variables) are related to the dependent (Y) variable is expressed in
the correlation coefficient R, which is the square root of R-square. In
multiple regression, R can assume values between 0 and 1. To interpret
the direction of the relationship between variables, one looks at the signs
(plus or minus) of the regression or B coefficients. If a B coefficient is
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 179

positive, then the relationship of this variable with the dependent

variable is positive; if the B coefficient is negative then the relationship
is negative (e.g., the lower the income the higher the use of public
transport). Of course, if the B coefficient is equal to 0 then there is no
relationship between the variables.

Econometric models can be much more complex than a single multiple

regression equation. They are often made up of a hundred or possibly
many more equations, comparable to Equations 3 and 4. The basic
characteristic of proper econometric models is that the calibration of the
parameters and the reliability of the equations are empirically tested with
statistical measures. However, the aggregate prediction outcomes of
these models depend heavily on the quality of the data used and the
errors that are generated by the structure of the model itself. For
example, suppose variables A and B both have a value of 5 and an error
of +/- 1; the aggregate value of A and B is C. If C = A + B we have an
aggregate value between 4 + 4 = 8 and 6 + 6 = 12. In other words, the
aggregate value C has twice as much error than the original variables.
The amount of error considerably increases if a multiplicative
relationship is assumed, namely C = A·B. Now the aggregative value
varies between 16 and 36. In other words, C now has an error 10 times
that of the original variables! Clearly, this illustrates that the more
complex a mathematical model is, the more unreliable its outcomes are.
The same conclusion applies to ‘simulation models’. Forester has been
an important promoter of these models (Forester, 1961, 1971), which
focus on a formal representation of processes. The main difference they
have with econometric models is that the coefficients of a simulation
model have a physical significance and are measured directly or
determined by trial and error, that is, they are not deduced statistically.
Hence, the ‘plausibility’ of the outcome is an important criterion for
judging the usefulness of a simulation model.

3.3 An example: forecasting demand for sand

Causal forecasting will be illustrated by summarizing the Dutch history
of forecasting the future use of aggregates. The production of building
materials such as gravel, sand and clay usually involves the removal of
considerable amounts of the land surface, often near rivers. In addition,
in Europe materials such as hard rock and limestone are extracted from
pits. However, local policymakers and the surrounding population
usually do not appreciate this kind of ‘destructive’ land use. It is a clear
180 Paul Ike and Henk Voogd

example of a ‘not-in-my-backyard’ activity. For this reason, in several

European countries the forecasting of demand is used to show opponents
of mining that the building materials really are needed. The
policymakers concerned use the forecasts to legitimise the provision of
mineral permits, that is, the amount of land that is permitted for mineral
extraction depends on the forecasted future demand for that particular
building material. A multiple regression analysis is used as a forecasting
technique both in the Netherlands and other European countries (Lehoc,
1979; Bundesamt für Bauwesen und Raumordnung, 1998; EIB, 2002;
Department of the Environment, 1994).
This will be illustrated below with a chronological overview of
the way regression models for concrete and masonry sand have been
made in the Netherlands. Through the presentation of these models, the
use of regression analysis will be explained (Ike, 2000).

Concrete and masonry sand, i.e. coarse sand, is considered to be a scarce

building material in the Netherlands. This is not because of limited
geological availability, but instead to limited ‘land use planning’
availability. The annual demand varies between 18.5 and 24.5 million
tons per year. There has always been a problem accommodating this
demand with sufficient supply. Since 1975, models have been developed
for the prediction of industrial sand use (Vi) where ‘i’ stands for
‘industrial’. Industrial sand is the generic name for concrete and masonry
sand, sand from limestone, silica sand and asphaltic sand. At that time,
there were no separate consumption figures available for concrete and
masonry sand. Consequently, the practical value of these models was
limited due to inadequate insight into the demand figures of various sorts
of sand. The consumption of concrete and masonry sand was determined
by a factor of 0.83 of the future use of industrial sand. The real factor
value was actually between 0.79 and 0.86. The uncertainties, however,
were not taken into account. Because of the fluctuations in the
consumption of different sands this approach is not recommended. From
1979 onwards, time series for industrial sand have also been developed.
One of the first models for industrial sand consumption was done by the
Netherlands Economic Institute (NEI, 1976a, p. 13). The NEI linked the
annual mutations in industrial sand consumption [d(Vi)] to the annual
mutations of the total building investments [d(BI tnr)] collected by the
Central Bureau of Statistics (CBS), (see Equation 3.1). When doing these
equations, one has to ensure that the explanatory variable, in this case the
time series of building investments, is converted into present values.
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 181

(3.1) d(Vi) = 0.769 * d(BI tnr) + 0.376 R2 = 0.846 R = 0.92

standard error: (0.116) (0.126) period of estimation

t-stat: (6.62) (2.98) 1966-1974

From a statistical point of view this is a good model. As a rule of thumb it

is usually assumed that the correlation coefficient should be higher than
0.8 (Wesolowsky, 1976).
In this case R = 0.92, which is good. Another rule of thumb is that the t-
values of the regression coefficients should be higher than 2 (in this case
6.62 and 2.98, respectively). A disadvantage of Model 3.1 is that it cannot
directly forecast the consumption of concrete and masonry sand, only that
of industrial sand.
In 1984, an Interdepartmental Commission for Aggregates (ICO
working group) developed a new model based on a longer period of
estimation. Also at this time a relationship was established between
industrial sand consumption (Vi) and total building investments (BI tnr)
(see Equation 3.2). However, in this model no mutations were used except
for annual figures (ICO, 1984, p. 26).

(3.2) Vi = 1.619 * BI tnr - 5256.6 R2 = 0.45 R = 0.67

t.stat (3.24) (- 0.65) Period of estimation
1966-1981

The t-value of the constant factor of this model was too low. Also, the
correlation coefficient did not exceed 0.67. In addition, Model 3.2 had to
be corrected for autocorrelation (Ike and Voogd, 1984b, p. 19).
The ICO working group also produced a second model based on
investments in housing (BI wnr):

(3.3) Vi = 2.392 * BI wnr + 4724.3 R2 = 0.67 R = 0.82

t.stat (5.4) (1.6) Period of estimation
1966-1981

Model 3.3 was soon rejected because it only dealt with one component of
the building industry, namely housing. Commercial and industrial building
as well as infrastructure building were not included in the model. As a
result the model was seen as inadequate as developments in these sectors
of the building industry can be quite distinct from those in the housing
industry with different – even opposite – investment patterns.
182 Paul Ike and Henk Voogd

In 1990 the Ministry of Housing, Spatial Planning and the Environment

(VROM) presented a new model. In this model a relation was created
between industrial sand consumption (Vi) and building production
(BPvrom):

(3.4) Vi = 0.356 *{0.748 * BPvrom(t) + 0.152 * BPvrom(t+1)} R2 = 0.70

Period of estimation
std.error: (0.005) (0.264) 1971-1987

So, instead of building investments, the explanatory variable this time was
the more comprehensive building production, based on figures collected
by the Ministry. For instance, in 1997 the building production of the
Netherlands was NLG 104.8 billion, while the building investments for
the same year were determined at NLG 55.8 billion. Building investments
can be considered a better explanatory variable than building production
since production figures also include, for instance, deliveries between
building contractors.
The VROM Model 3.4 for industrial sand was adapted in 1993.
The building production (BPvrom) was then rightly replaced by the total
building investments (BI vrom), which resulted in the following model:

(3.5) Vi(t) =0.69*exp{- 0.14*(TT)}*{0.62*BI vrom(t) + 0.38*BI vrom(t+1)}

std.error: ( 0.01) (0.04) (0.35)

t-stat.: (54.81) (3.47) (1.79)
2-tail sig.: ( 0.00) (0.00) (0.09)

R2 = 0.706; R = 0.84; Adjusted R2 = 0.701; DW = 1.45; Period of

estimation 1969-1987; SE = 1918.4

where:
Vi(t) = Consumption of industrial sand in 1000 tons in year (t)
according to the CBS
BI vrom(t) = Building investments in year (t) in NLG million, price
level 1989, according to the ministry of VROM
BI vrom(t+1) = Building investments in year (t+1) in NLG million
TT = (1971 - t) if t < 1971
TT = 0 if t > 1970, i.e. the component exp{0} is set to 1

However, the coefficients of BI vrom(t) and BI vrom(t+1) in Model 3.5 were

only statistically significant for 91%. Often a level of significance of 95%
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 183

or more is required. This would imply a reduction of the model to one

explanatory variable (BI vrom(t)).
Models such as 3.5 are not very robust. This can be illustrated by
reducing the period of estimation by one year to 1969-1986. In this
scenario the significance of Model 3.5 drops to 78%. This is partially
caused by inaccuracies in the data and the fact that the model is ‘fitted’ by
means of trend components (TT). In general it holds that the more
coefficients that are included in a model, the higher the chance that one or
more coefficients become insignificant.
In practice a disadvantage of both Models 3.4 and 3.5 is that is not
easy to grasp how the model functions at first sight. Adapting and
processing variables outside the model into new meaningful variables
might improve this, provided, of course, that this can be theoretically
justified. Transparent models will help to increase the support for
decisions that should be based upon them.
After the creation of separate time series after 1979 for concrete and
masonry sand, regression models became available. In 1995, Ike
developed a consumption model for this type of sand that attracted much
attention in the professional world (Ike, 2000). In this model, the so-called
Equivalent Final Consumption (EFC) of concrete and masonry sand was
linked to the building investments of VROM. The notion ‘equivalent’
means that the primary and secondary substitutes were also included,
converted into units of concrete and masonry sand. These substitutes are
important for environmental reasons. The total amount of building
material (sand plus substitutes) is directly related to building investments.
The notion ‘final’ means that the model also includes the consumption of
sand that is used in the concrete industry for all kinds of concrete products
whether imported or exported.

(3.6) EFC = 0.0005337 * BIvrom

st.error: (0.000004735)
t-stat: (112.72)
2-tail sig: (0.0000)

R2 = 0.869; R = 0.93; DW = 1.94; Period of estimation 1979-1993; S.E. =

0.695.

This model appeared to be very robust. The correlation (R = 0.93) was

high and the t-value had an exceptionally high value of 112.72. When the
time series was subdivided into two periods, two almost identical
equations could be created (Ike, 2000). It was also investigated whether
184 Paul Ike and Henk Voogd

the various sectors of the building industry, i.e. housing, commercial and
industrial building, and infrastructure, could be included separately in the
model via multiple regression. For this reason an initial check was made to
determine whether the explanatory variables have a high intercorrelation
in the period of estimation. This was true for housing investments and
commercial and industrial building investments. The intercorrelation was
0.90 and 0.88, respectively. The rule is that if the intercorrelation is high
with respect to the overall correlation, one of the two variables may be
excluded. However, if one sector of the building industry is excluded the
model would have been incomplete and consequently less suitable for
forecasting. It is better to aim for a model that is, from a theoretical
perspective, as ‘complete’ as possible. Therefore, the next step was to
aggregate the investments in housing and commercial and industrial
buildings and then to try and create a model with two, instead of three,
explanatory variables. Unfortunately, this did not result in a satisfactory
model.

In the models discussed above no attention has been paid to

dematerialisation. By dematerialisation is meant that the consumption of
an aggregate, per unit of building production or building investment,
decreases over time. However, it is a process, which is most likely to fit a
product life cycle (Roozenburg and Eekels, 1991). According to this
theory, in the first stage of a product life cycle, a new material will be used
hesitantly. The popularity of the product will increase to the highest level
of product saturation, at which point the popularity of the product and its
use will decrease. Each building material has its own product life cycle.
For example, bricks have been used for centuries, while cement-based
concrete has only been used in the last hundred years. The introduction of
materials that substitute for an original aggregate could be included in a
forecasting model by expressing the ‘changes’ or ‘profits’ in terms of
equivalents of the building material under consideration. However, a
dematerialization in which less aggregate is used because of constructive
innovations is less easy to include in a model.
In 2001, the Netherlands Bureau for Economic Policy Analysis
(CPB) published a new model of the consumption of concrete and
masonry sand (CPB, 2001):

(3.7) ln (EFV) = 1.25 * ln (Bivrom) –0.007 * t + 0.39 AR (1)

t-stat: (5.3) (-2.7) (1.5)

R2 = 0.67; R = 0.82; DW = 1.8; Period of estimation 1979-1995.

Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 185

Model 3.7 is based on a log-linear relationship. According to Mannaerts

(1997) this type of model is more appropriate for incorporating the
dematerialisation problem. However, the Durbin-Watson (DW) test
showed series correlation between the residues. The t-value is less than 2
and the regression coefficient is not significant. Therefore, from a
statistical point of view Model 3.7 has a problem. It is up to the decision-
makers whether this model is acceptable.
The conclusion from this overview is that in forecasting
modelling all roads lead to Rome. It is clear that every author creates his
or her own model. This seems to be a never-ending story. A practical
recommendation from this could be to make models as simple as
possible. The model-builder needs determination to exclude variables
from the model that may seem interesting from a theoretical or political
point of view. However, by increasing the number of variables the
statistical significance is often reduced to an unacceptable level. In fact,
the influence of variables that are left out of the model should be
investigated in another way. For concrete and masonry sand, for instance,
such variables could be the future use of alternative materials and
dematerialization. These issues can be considered separately and discussed
by all parties concerned.

4 Discussion

The famous philosopher Karl Popper argued in his book The Poverty of
Historicism (1957) that it is not possible to predict the course of human
history using scientific or any other rational methods, because such a
prediction may influence the predicted event and hence distort the
original forecast. This argument more or less explains why, in practice,
reality often ‘fails’ to perform according to the forecasts made in earlier
planning. Nevertheless, this does not imply that for this reason
forecasting is a useless aspect of planning activity.
The academic interest in quantitative forecasting increased after
the introduction of computers in the 1960s. Based on the new, seemingly
unlimited, possibilities of these computers, detailed ‘integrated
disaggregated’ quantitative models were developed. The general idea at
that time was that if small models can predict well, it is reasonable to
expect that bigger and more sophisticated models would do even better
(for example Wilson, 1974). However, as outlined in Section 3.2, bigger
did not turn out to be better. Specifically in the area of weather
forecasting, it soon became evident that no matter what the size and
sophistication of the models used, forecasting accuracy decreased
186 Paul Ike and Henk Voogd

considerably when applied beyond two or three days. As Lorenz (1966)

showed, sensitive dependence on initial conditions could exert critical
influence on future weather patterns, such as those caused by the
flapping wings of a butterfly. In complex weather models a butterfly in
Brazil was able to create a storm in Europe. This came to be known as
the famous ‘butterfly effect’. In the short term as well, weather
forecasting could not improve much on the accuracy of the naive
approach, which predicts that the weather today or tomorrow will be
exactly the same as today.
In other fields, similar experiences occurred and several authors
concluded that large and sophisticated mathematical models were no
more accurate than single equation models (Armstrong, 1978;
Makridakis and Hibon, 1979).

Source: Harris (1992)

Evidently, forecasts can be very precise but quite inaccurate

(Gordon, 1992). The limitations of predictability must be accepted in
spatial planning as has already been the case in the natural sciences,
where chaos is considered as important as order (Lorenz, 1991). It may
be impossible to forecast the exact future of a chaotic system, but not
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 187

impossible to anticipate its stability or instability. The uncertainty

surrounding all types of forecasting should be acknowledged, and we
should not expect to be able to forecast spatial-environmental systems
any better than meteorological systems. Just as chaotic aspects govern
the weather, so too do they affect spatial systems.
Last but not least, the influence of the forecaster’s contextual
environment should be stressed. Already thirty years ago convincing
evidence was presented that local officials use biased (travel) demand
forecasts to justify decisions based on considerations that are
systematically too optimistic for reasons that cannot be explained solely
by the inherent difficulty of predicting the future. Brinkman (2004)
provides some empirical evidence that unethical behaviour and misuse
can be invited by the political setting of the work. A quote in his paper
from a modelling expert explains it all: “I knew what my board wanted
and I had the model over there telling me, ‘Hey, I can’t give you the
numbers that are going to be that good.’ Well, I’ve had to close the door
of my office and go in and totally fabricate numbers.”(Brinkman, 2004,
256).

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190 Paul Ike and Henk Voogd
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 191

10
Transportation Modelling

Mirjan Bouwman and Gerard Linden

1 Introduction

Investments in transportation, whether this is in new roads, railways or

improved bus services, always have an impact on the environment and
on large numbers of individuals and involve large amounts of money.
Planning for transportation investments should be at a professional level
because of these social, environmental and financial implications
involved. Mathematical computer-based modelling has been used since
the 1950s to provide a basis for analysing the complex spatial interaction
patterns resulting from the juxtaposition of human activities and their
interlinking transportation networks.
Models serve different purposes. They provide insights in
complex spatial interactions, some of which might otherwise have been
overlooked. Building a model contributes to the understanding of the
problem since models have to fit local conditions (Sussman 2000). The
modelling process identifies and illuminates the most important
explanatory variables of transport flows. Furthermore, models can be
192 Mirjan Bouwman and Gerard Linden

instrumental in achieving consensus in the complex political negotiation

process between the separate public and private stakeholders involved.
Although the use of models has not remained entirely undisputed of
lately, when used transparently, models provide a relatively objective
basis for decisions and can hence also be of use when communicating
the effects of proposed investments to the public.
The history of transport models began midway through the
twentieth century in the USA and is associated with the rising use of the
car for passenger transport (Bates 2000). The dramatic growth in the
number of cars after the Second World War, and the resulting public
pressure for adequate road capacity in combination with restricted funds,
resulted in a quest for methods to objectively assess priorities in road
building schemes. The fundamentals of the approach developed then are
still valid in contemporary, mainstream transportation modelling.
Societal changes since the mid-1950s have changed the scope of
transportation modelling significantly. Although road capacity is still an
important topic, travel demand management, environmental concerns
and attention for minority groups have become the more important
issues. The trip from home to work and the classical rush hour are losing
significance in comparison with trips made for other purposes such as
leisure and social contacts. Other changes that have affected the
effectiveness of the classical transport model are the increase in personal
wealth, education and life expectancy, which have resulted in a very
active group of fit, prosperous and travel-happy pensioners. Last but not
least, the effects of the changing role of women in society have been felt
in the increase of double income households and the accompanying
decisions on house location, travel patterns and consumer behaviour.
It is widely felt that the classical transportation model is no
longer adequate and does not take sufficient account of the changes in
travel behaviour and travel patterns. Attempts to develop new
methodology and models to support decision-making in this new era are
being made. Until these new models have been proven to be effective the
old transportation model remains a well-proven alternative, although it
should be applied paying due consideration to the prevailing criticism.
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 193

2 The classical four stage model

2.1 Introduction
The classical transport model is composed of four separate but
interlinked sub-models that together simulate the complex land-use
interaction process. The aim of each of the sub-models can be expressed
in an intuitively clear question. The overall question to answer is how
many trips will be counted on each road section. This question is split
into four sub-questions: how many trips are made (trip demand), where
are these trips going to (trip distribution), which mode is used for making
these trips (modal split) and which route is travelled (traffic
assignment)? Different modifications to the original sequential four-step
model exist, depending on the position of the modal split.
Transport modelling is usually focused on travel by car,
although the focus has shifted over the decades to also include other
modes of travel such as public transport, walking (Hoogendoorn & Bovy
2004) and cycling. Freight transport is usually treated separately and can
be modelled according to the same principles but with adjusted
explanatory variables derived from the economic principles of cost
minimization.

2.2 Study area, zones and networks

Some major assumptions underlie the classic transport model. The first
assumptions relate to the concept of a study area and subsequent
subdivision into traffic zones that together should encompass the
majority of traffic movements. Delineation of the study area is made on
the basis of observed commuting patterns and pragmatic decisions on
how to minimize the number of points on the outer boundary where
traffic external to the area can be counted. Traffic zones are delineated
using similar pragmatic professional judgements. Zones are often based
on existing administrative divisions which makes the search for adequate
socio-economic data for the model that much easier. All traffic generated
within, or attracted to, a traffic zone is thought to originate from, or be
attracted to, the zone centroid as a representation of the geographical
point of gravity within a given zone. This allows traffic to be
194 Mirjan Bouwman and Gerard Linden

distinguished in the following categories: through traffic – traffic that

has an origin and destination outside the study area; external traffic –
traffic that has either an origin or a destination in the study area; internal
traffic – traffic that will not leave the study area but is between the traffic
zones; and intra-zonal traffic – traffic within a particular traffic zone.
The concept of zone centroids implies that intra-zonal traffic has a trip
length of zero.
The definition of zones is therefore an important issue in
modelling. Zones that are too large may result in severe modelling errors
due to under-representation of the contribution of intra-zonal trips to
overall traffic. Zones that are too small result in unnecessarily
complicated calculations. The transportation networks must also be
defined before starting modelling. The amount of detail included in the
network model is purpose-dependent. In general, networks will allow
more detail than the analysis will require, thus offering flexibility in
network configurations by, for example, including short cuts.
The first phase in a land-use transport study requires sensible
professional judgement as traffic problems in a study area are
predominantly locally defined and thus dictate their own conditions and
pragmatic solutions.

2.3 Trip Generation

The first step in the classical four-stage model consists of calculating the
total demand for transport by calculating both the number of origins and
the number of destinations and comparing these two values. A
distinction is often made between production and attraction instead of
between origin and destination. The production side of a trip refers to the
home end of a home-based trip or the origin of a non-home based trip.
The attraction side of a trip refers to the non-home side of a home-based
trip or the destination of a non-home based trip. Since around 85 percent
of all trips are home-based, the distinction between production and
attraction simplifies the calculations, as calculation of the total
production can be derived from household characteristics in a traffic
zone. Variables that are often used to calculate trip production include
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 195

the income level, car ownership and car availability, household size and
structure, and additional variables such as house prices or land value.
The choice for particular variables depends among other things
on the aggregation level of the calculations. Generation can be modelled
on an aggregate level (number of trips per zone) or on a disaggregate
level (number of trips per household or per person). In the latter case, an
additional step has to be made in aggregating the outcomes to the zonal
level.
Trip attraction is usually calculated using similar methods, based
on variables that refer to the non-home end or destination of the trip.
Often-used variables include employment figures, land use, and/or
accessibility figures.
Three important methods can be distinguished for forecasting
production and attraction: regression methods, category analysis and
growth factor analysis. Table 1 shows an overview of the often-used
aggregation levels for the various methods.

Method
Unit of Growth factor Regression Category
analysis analysis
Zone X X
Household X X
Person X X
Table 1. Overview of methods for generation modelling

Growth factor methods use already existing data to forecast new

production figures. The number of trips T from zone i at moment t (Tit)
is calculated by multiplying the number of trips at moment 0 (Ti0) by a
growth factor (t i).
(1) Tit = τ i Ti 0

The estimate of the growth factor can be derived from the changes in the
explaining variables for either trip production or trip attraction in a given
traffic zone.
Regression methods do not require existing estimates of
production or attraction, but make a new estimate, based on a database
196 Mirjan Bouwman and Gerard Linden

with observations. Linear regression is the variant of the regression

technique family most often used in transportation modelling. The
general formula for a production regression analysis is:
(2) Ti = α o + α 1 X 1 + α 2 X 2 + α 3 X 3 + K + α n −1 X n −1 + α n X n
where Ti = number of trips T from zone i
a 0..a n = parameters
x1..xn = variables

One of the important considerations when applying regression analysis is

that there has to be a causal relationship between the number of trips
(dependent variable) and the independent variables used. Although there
is an undisputed causal relation between, for example, the number of
inhabitants and the number of trips in a zone, there are other cases where
such causality is questionable. A good example is the questionable
causality of the often-mentioned observation that persons with higher
incomes in general make more trips per day.
It can be argued that the parameter a 0 should never have a
negative value as Ti can only take on a zero or positive value. Another
important but hard to obey condition for linear regression is the
requirement that variables should be linear in behaviour and mutually
independent. Obviously, this is a hard condition to meet, as income and
car ownership, for example, are definitely interrelated.
Despite this, regression analysis is popular, as its parameters can
easily be estimated from available databases with a multitude of readily
available statistical programmes. Moreover, clear indications about the
goodness of fit can be obtained, although results should be interpreted
with some caution. For practical reasons, regression analysis when used
with transportation modelling is mostly restricted to its linear variant.
Whenever relations are non-linear, adaptations are required to be able to
use linear regression analysis, for example by using dummy variables or
by transforming the variables. Category analysis may be a useful
alternative in such cases.

Category analysis or cross-classification (USA) is mostly applied on a

disaggregate level. The population of trip makers (households or
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 197

persons) is divided over a number of categories where each category of

trip makers shares similar characteristics such as income and car
ownership. The average number of trips is then estimated for each
category of households or persons separately. It is assumed that such an
estimate stays valid over a longer period of time. As long as the number
of households or persons per category is known, the total trip production
can be calculated.
Category analysis is very suitable for non-linear relations and a
further important advantage is that relations may vary among classes.
Table 2 shows a fictitious example of trip rates per person, where the
effect of an extra car in a household differs per income category.
No cars 1 car 2 or more cars
Low income 2 5 6
Middle or high income 5 6 9
Table 2. Example of trip rates per person

Category analysis has its limitations, for example in extrapolation. Once

a database is obtained, it is impossible to add extra categories easily and,
moreover, adding new variables to the analysis quickly increases the
number of classes in the table. Imagine the addition of the new variable,
household size, to the example in Table 2. If only two household
categories (1-2 persons and 3 or more persons) are added, the number of
classes doubles.
Another problem with the method is the absence of a statistical
tool to test the goodness of fit of the trip rate table used. In addition, it
may be very hard to obtain enough observations for each category to
make valid statements on the trip rates. It is generally accepted that 50
observations per category are required. More than 300 observations are
required in order to have enough observations for each of the categories
in the example described above. It can easily be seen that households
with low income and two or more cars or households with middle or
high incomes without a car will be relatively rare. This implies that it
will be complicated to generate an adequate database for a proper
category analysis.
198 Mirjan Bouwman and Gerard Linden

After calculating both trip production and attraction, the two numbers
have to be balanced. As each trip has a production and an attraction side,
the total values for production and attraction in a study area should by
definition be equal. This will never actually be the case because of the
estimation errors in the methods used. Therefore, the two estimations
have to be adjusted to each other; this is called balancing. As the
variables used for trip production calculations are in general easier to
obtain than those for trip attraction, it is quite common to adjust the total
attraction to the total production:
(3) ∑P = ∑ A
i
i
j
j

where Pi = Production for zone i

Aj = Attraction for zone j

Several further specifications can be made for the calculation of both

production and attraction. It is common to specify calculations by mode,
trip purpose and/or time of day. Choices on further specification largely
depend on the exact modelling purpose and the required level of detail of
the analysis.

2.4 Trip distribution

The second stage in the classical four-stage model determines where
trips will go to and from where they originate. In other words, specific
origins are connected to destinations, or production is connected to
attraction. Figure 1 gives a graphical representation of this process. After
the generation, row and column totals are known for the matrix
representing all trips in an area. The distribution step fills the empty cells
of the matrix, together resulting in the already calculated zone totals. An
important restriction in filling the cells is the observation that the number
of trips between two zones (Tij) has to be non-negative: i.e.
Tij ≥ 0 ∀i, j .
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 199

Origins Destinations
1 2 3 … n Production
1 P1
2 P2
3
…
n
?? P3
P…
Pn
Attraction A1 A2 A3 A… An Tij
Figure 1. Distribution
Two groups of methods are available for the distribution: the growth
factor methods and the synthetic models. As with trip generation, growth
factors can be used to update an existing database (base matrix), for
which the number of trips between every combination of zones is
known. Different growth factor methods can be distinguished:
• Uniform growth factors, in which case the growth factor f is
applied for each combination of zones
Tijt = τ Tij 0
• Singly constrained growth-factor methods, in which a growth
factor is determined per zone for either origins or destinations
Tijt = f i Tij 0 for origins or
Tijt = f j Tij 0 for destinations
• Doubly constrained growth factors, in which growth factors are
determined for every combination of origin and destination.
Tijt = τ iτ j Tij 0
Growth factor methods are easy to apply and make direct use of existing
observations so that the results are comprehensible. An important
limitation, however, is that changes in the transport network cannot be
analysed. This makes the use of a model for analysing the effect of, for
example, new roads or improved roads very limited. Growth factor
methods are very suitable for short-term forecasting in situations where
no major changes in the road network are expected. In all other cases,
synthetic methods are the most appropriate models.
200 Mirjan Bouwman and Gerard Linden

Text box 1 Example of a gravity method for distribution

Consider an area with 3 zones: A, B, and C. The balanced production and attraction for these
zones are:

Zone Production Attraction

A 150 200
B 200 250
C 400 300

The travel time between zone A and B is 5 minutes, between A and C 7 minutes, and between
B and C 9 minutes. Intrazonal travel times are set at three minutes. The travel times are used
as the generalized costs.

The generalized cost function f(cij) represents the willingness to travel to a specific zone. It is
assumed in this case that f(cij) is an exponential function:
( )
f cij = e
− β cij
, where it is known from a previous study that 0.3 is an adequate value for ß.
Friction factors (based on this generalised cost function) that represent the attractiveness of
travelling to a zone can be calculated. This results in the following matrix with friction factors:

From/to A B C
A 0.41 0.22 0.12
B 0.22 0.41 0.07
C 0.12 0.07 0.41

The friction factors suggest that trips starting from zone A (first row) are about twice as likely to
remain in zone A (0.41) as they are to end in zone B (0.22). Travelling to C (0.12) is about half
as likely as going to B (0.22). As it is known that in total 150 trips depart from zone A
(production), these can be divided over the three zones in the proportion 0.41:0.22:0.12. Doing
this for the departures from all three zones results in the following matrix:

From/to A B C Total
A 81.1 44.5 24.4 150
B 64.0 116.7 19.3 200
C 82.2 45.1 272.8 400
Total 227.3 206.3 316.5

This table nicely shows row totals that match the calculated production for each zone.
However, the column totals do not match the attraction figures per zone. Therefore, the next
step in the iterative process is to update the figures sufficiently so that column totals do match.
To do this, current totals are compared with attraction figures to calculate a correction factor for
each column.

Zone A B C
Total 227.3 206.3 316.5
Attraction 200 250 300
Factor 0.88 1.21 0.95

Multiplying each column with the appropriate correction factor finalises the first iteration.

From/to A B C Total
A 71.4 53.9 23.2 148.4
B 56.4 141.4 18.3 216.1
C 72.3 54.6 258.6 385.5
Total 250 200 300
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 201

Text box 1 (continued)

Adjusting the column totals results in row totals that deviate from the production data
generated in the first step of the model. Each row can now be adjusted, by calculating a row
correction factor. This row factor is calculated by dividing the production figure by the row total.

Zone Row total Production Factor

A 148.4 150 1.01
B 216.1 200 0.93
C 385.5 400 1.04

Multiplying each column with the accompanying correction factor starts the second iteration.

From/to A B C Total
A 72.1 54.5 23.4 150
B 52.2 130.9 16.9 200
C 75.0 56.7 268.3 400
Total 199.3 242.1 308.6

New column correction factors are calculated next.

Zone A B C
Total 199.3 242.1 308.6
Attraction 200 250 300
Factor 1.00 1.03 0.97

These are used to finalise the second iteration. Once more columns are multiplied with the
column correction factor.

From/to A B C Total
A 72.4 56.,3 22.7 151.4
B 52.4 135.2 16.5 204.0
C 75.3 58.5 260.8 394.6
Total 200.0 250.0 300,0

In this way, iterations can be repeated until row and column totals match the
specified production and attraction figures. Figures will naturally be rounded off to
whole trips before using them in the next steps of the classical model.

The most common form of synthetic models is the gravity model.

Gravity models calculate the number of trips between two zones based
on the production and attraction of the zones and the distance between
them. Distance can be measured as the length of the route between the
zones, but also in terms of accessibility, travel time, travel costs or a
combination of factors such as generalized costs.
202 Mirjan Bouwman and Gerard Linden

The general mathematical representation of the gravity model is:

(4) Tij = αPi A j f ( cij )

where a = scaling parameter

Pi = Production in zone i
Aj = Attraction in zone j
f(cij) = function based on the generalized costs of travelling
from i to j

The generalized costs of travelling from i to j can be specified in terms

of distance, time and so on. The function f(c ij) can take a variety of
forms; often an exponential or power function is chosen. The exact
function and its parameters have to be estimated. Text box 1 provides an
example of the application of the gravity model for distribution.

2.5 Modal split

The third stage in the classical model determines which transport mode
is used for a trip. Modal split is especially important as it is directly
linked to a transport policy that aims to reduce the importance of cars in
transportation and the means of managing traffic demand. The large
variety of variables explaining mode choice makes determination of the
modal split complex and difficult. On the one hand, characteristics of the
individual are of importance, such as vehicle ownership or availability,
income levels, possession of a driving licence, etc. On the other hand,
transport system characteristics play a role in determining the quality of
the various modes. Characteristics of the trip, such as the origin and the
destination, the trip purpose and the time of travelling, also play a role in
mode choice. The modal split phase has occupied different positions in
the classic sequential model because of this diversity in explanatory
variables. Five major approaches to the calculation of aggregate modal
choice can be distinguished:
1. Direct generation models estimate trip generation by mode. Instead
of first estimating the number of trips and then performing any modal
split calculations, these two steps are integrated. This implies, for
example, that direct generation models estimate the number of car
trips and bicycle trips per zone separately.
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 203

2. Trip end models calculate mode choice before trip distribution. In

this way, characteristics of the trip cannot be included in the
calculation, but information on the trip makers can. This type of
modelling was formerly used in the USA in particular, where it was
felt that income was the most important explanatory variable since
this largely explains car ownership (Ortúzar & Willumsen 2001).
These types of models are hardly ever used nowadays.
3. Simultaneous distribution/modal split models include the modal
choice in the distribution phase. Destination choice then depends on
the quality of the various transport systems and the distance between
origin and destination. Simultaneous models require separate
distribution functions per mode (Immers & Stada 1998).
4. Trip interchange models place modal choice in the classical position
after trip distribution and before traffic assignment. Trip
characteristics such as length, origin and destination are known in
this model type, but information on the trip makers is generally no
longer available.
5. Direct demand models can in fact be seen as an alternative to the
classic method of sequential modelling. Direct demand models
estimate generation, distribution and modal choice in one step. In
other words, they estimate the number of trips made from one zone
to another by a certain mode, for all zones, modes and trip purposes.
It can easily be understood that parameter estimation forms an
important limitation to the use of direct demand models.
The important role for trip interchange models can be explained by the
fact that this type of model best integrates policy options since modal
choice is highly relevant when taking policy decisions. Trip end models
base their results solely on personal characteristics. Improving the public
transport system by increasing the number of bus connections, for
example, does not result in more bus travellers in trip end models but it
does in trip interchange models.
Disaggregate models have been developed (see e.g. Ben-Akiva &
Lerman 1991) as an alternative to the zone-based modal split models.
Disaggregate models are based on the assumptions underlying the utility
theory. Individuals are supposed to be selfish and rational in order to
maximize their individual utility. They are rational in the sense that they
204 Mirjan Bouwman and Gerard Linden

make choices based on the characteristics of the options (and not on non-
relevant other issues). Selfish in this context means that individuals
choose from their own perspective, without taking the consequences on a
higher level into account. Trips with the highest net utility are made,
provided that the net utility is positive. The net utility consists of the
positive component of being at a certain location minus the negative
component associated with the generalized costs of travel. The latter
depends among other things on the characteristics of the transport mode
involved.
Disaggregate modal split models calculate the possibility that
individuals will choose a specific transport mode. A logit model is
usually used to do this. The general shape of the logit model for k
different modes is:
eαV ( A)
(5) P ( A) = n

∑e
k =1
αV ( k )

where V(A) = the net observable utility of mode A

P(A) = the probability of choosing mode A

The logit model has some distinctive characteristics. First of all, the
probability of choosing mode A is greater if the net utility of travelling
by mode A is greater. The mode with the highest net utility has the
greatest probability of being chosen. If two modes have exactly the same
utility, the probability of each of the modes being chosen is equal.
Moreover, new modes or modes with changed utility will always draw
passengers from other modes in the same proportion as the original
probabilities. This is referred to as the Independence of Irrelevant
Alternative (IIA) property of the logit model. Text box 2 shows an
illustration of this property.
The IIA property of multinomial logit models may lead to
unwanted and counter-intuitive results, as the example in text box 2
shows. Careful definition of the multinomial logit model is therefore
required. The hierarchical logit model is a good improvement of the
standard logit model. Comparable modes are clustered in so-called nests
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 205

in this model. Mode shift will occur within the nest before it occurs
between nests.

2.5 Traffic Assignment

Traffic is assigned to the (road) network in the last model step. The
assumption is that travellers preferably take the shortest route possible,
defined as travel time, travel costs or other variables. When this principle
is applied in its most basic form it is known as the all-or-nothing
assignment. Each traveller is assumed to take the shortest route between
origin and destination, regardless of road capacity, congestion and
associated delays.
However, in practice not every traveller prefers the same route. An
alternative route with slightly higher costs will often be used. This can be
explained by the fact that travellers do not have complete knowledge of
the whole network and, moreover, they may perceive the cost of a route
differently (Cascetta et al. 2002). It can also be argued that individuals
use different routes in practice, because their origins and destinations are
not exactly equal to the centroid, so that alternative routes may indeed by
shorter. This can be taken into account by adding a stochastic component
to the calculated routes.
A second improvement to the all-or-nothing method is to incorporate the
effects of delays due to congestion. Capacity restraints increase the travel
time on congested routes with the result that alternative routes may end
up with shorter travel times than the original shortest route. Of course,
these alternative routes will be chosen, implying that all routes used have
equal travel times. This assignment method is therefore named user
equilibrium (Arnott & Small 1994).
The two improvements can be combined, resulting in the stochastic user
equilibrium method. The various assignment methods are summarised in
Table 3.
Table 3 Assignment methods
Method Without congestion With congestion
Deterministic All-or-nothing User equilibrium
Stochastic Stochastic Stochastic user equilibrium
206 Mirjan Bouwman and Gerard Linden

Outcomes of the assignment model are important as they link vehicle

flows to road design options.

2.6 Time of day modelling

One of the modelling improvements of the last decades concerns the
addition of a fifth step to the classical four-stage model. Trip timing is a
very important topic in determining the required capacity of roads as
traffic intensity varies greatly during the day, with clear peaks during
rush hours. Departure time decisions depend on both the trip purpose and
the congestion level on the network (Mahmassani 2000).

2.7 Validation and calibration

A very important step, although often overlooked in modelling manuals,
is the validation and calibration of the model. Model calibration refers to
the mathematical process of adjusting model parameters in order to
optimize the goodness of fit. The choice of model parameters as such is
not an issue in this process, as this belongs to the model estimation
phase. Calibration is thus solely restricted to the mathematical
adjustment of the functional form, retaining the parameters as defined in
the model estimation, to achieve a satisfactory goodness of fit.
Model validation answers the question whether the defined model is
valid for the decisions to be made using it. A typical way to test model
validity is to reproduce a historic situation with the defined model.
Validation requires data not used in the modelling process. This is often
difficult to achieve, which may be the reason why model validation is
not always given the attention it deserves. An alternative is to validate
the model by comparing it with non-used traffic counts or screen lines
(Ortúzar & Willumsen 2001).

3 Data sources and modelling packages

3.1 Data requirements

Modelling requires a large amount of data. A large variety of data
sources is readily available nowadays. In the Netherlands, Statistics
Netherlands (CBS) collects data on trip, modal split, length, and
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 207

duration. Most other European countries have similar data available.

Dutch statistics can be obtained free of charge from the Internet (CBS
2003). Although highly detailed, this data is often not sufficient for
specific modelling purposes and additional information may be required,
especially for trip generation.
In addition to transport statistics, Statistics Netherlands also
provides socio-economic figures on a neighbourhood level. These
figures can be used for trip generation purposes, as well as modal split
calculations.
Network information is, amongst others, required for gravity
distribution methods. Manual input of the road network in a software
package is very labour-intensive. Existing databases may be used, but
these may be extremely expensive, depending on the owner. Existing
road network databases often have limited information about specific
details such as direction signs, speed limits and accessibility, so that this
is then required as additional input. The same network is also used for
assignment purposes so that capacity figures may be required too.
Model validation requires additional information. Traffic counts
are often used for this purpose.

3.2 Software packages

The development of transportation models is closely related to
developments in computer technology. In the past, limited capacity for
calculations largely determined the boundaries of the possibilities of
models. Complicated iterative calculations limited model size and level
of detail, for example.
The current computer hardly places any restrictions on model
size or complexity of calculation techniques. Several companies offer
state-of-the-art, highly sophisticated software packages in which the
modeller can create a transportation model with a few mouse clicks.
Calculation routines, formulas and algorithms are carried out by the
software and are only visible when explicitly requested. Packages such
as Omnitrans and TransCAD offer a wide variety of simulation
techniques, visualization, and data import and export options. TransCAD
elegantly combines transport modelling techniques with a GIS base,
which allows for even further analysis.
208 Mirjan Bouwman and Gerard Linden

The danger of such software packages is that transportation

modelling seems to be much easier than before. However, the need to
consider modelling strategies, check results and check model validity is
still as important as ever. Modellers have to be well aware of the fact that
easy packages do not imply better models.

4 Model outcomes and uncertainty

The last modelling phase concerns model evaluation. The sensitivity of

the model to specific assumptions is tested in this stage. A good analysis
shows model sensitivities on three levels (Oppenheim 1980):
- effects of changes in initial values of model variables
- effects of changes in parameter values
- effects of changes in the structure of causal relations in the model.
The last two levels of model sensitivity are closely related to model
calibration and validation respectively. However, in a sensitivity
analysis, values used in the model are varied to see how this affects
model outcomes (Reif 1973). It is striking to see that in both older and
more recent textbooks on transportation modelling (see e.g. Ortúzar &
Willumsen 2001; Hensher & Button 2000; Immers & Stada 1998;
Oppenheim 1980; Reif 1973; Masser 1972) subjects such as error
margins and sensitivity analysis receive hardly any attention. Effects of
variations in model variables and parameters can be made visible with
Monte Carlo simulations. Error margins are defined around the current
values used and each simulation uses a randomly drawn figure from the
error margin. Repeating this several hundred times gives a clear image of
the sensitivity of overall outcomes to changes in initial values.
The classical four-step transportation model is based on
numerous assumptions and simplifications. Although the outcomes of
transportation models have proven to be useful in practice, model
outcomes have to be interpreted with some caution. Attention has to be
paid to communicating the error margins of the outcomes, particularly
when the users of a model are not its constructors. Such error margins
are especially important when model outcomes are used in further
planning processes, such as EIAs (see Arts, Chapter 12) and evaluation
procedures (Voogd, Chapter 11).
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 209

Modelling errors are also often discovered when communicating

outcomes to the commissioners of the model. Local policy makers can
interpret model outcomes very well, as they know from their local
experience how likely the results are. This sometimes allows data errors
in traffic counts or survey data to be traced, and also carries the
implication that models presented are seldom perfect in the sense that
they do not contain any errors. This is one more reason for checking
carefully whether or not model outcomes meet expectations.

References
Arnott, R. & Small, K. A. (1994), ‘The economics of traffic congestion. Rush-hour
driving strategies that maximize an individuals driver’s convenience may
contribute to overall congestion’, American Scientist, vol. 82, no. September-
October, pp. 446-455.
Bates, J. (2000), ‘History of demand modelling’, in Handbook of transport modelling,
D. A. Hensher & K. J. Button, eds., Elsevier Science Ltd, Oxford, pp. 11-33.
Ben-Akiva, M. & Lerman, S. R. (1991), Discrete choice analysis. Theory and
application to travel demand, 4th edition, MIT Press, Cambridge, Massachusetts.
Cascetta, E., Russo, F., Viola, F. A., & Vitetta, A. (2002), ‘A model of route perception
in urban road networks’, Transportation Research Part B: Methodological, Vol.
36, no. 7, pp. 577-592.
CBS Centraal Bureau voor de Statistiek (2003) Statline, to be consulted via
http://www.statline.nl
Hensher, D. A. & Button, K. J. (2000), Handbook of transport modelling, Elsevier
Science, Oxford.
Hoogendoorn, S. P. & Bovy, P. H. L. (2004), ‘Pedestrian route-choice and activity
scheduling theory and models’, Transportation Research Part B: Methodological,
vol. 38, no. 2, pp. 169-190.
Immers, L. H. & Stada, J. E. (1998), Verkeersmodellen, Catholic University of Leuven.
Mahmassani, H. S. (2000), ‘Trip timing’, in Handbook of transport modelling, D. A.
Hensher & K. J. Button, eds., Elsevier Science, Amsterdam, pp. 393-408.
Masser, I. (1972), Analytical models for urban and regional models, David & Charles
Ltd., Newton Abbot.
Oppenheim, N. (1980), Applied models in urban and regional analysis, Prentice-Hall
Inc., Englewood Cliffs, USA.
Ortúzar, J. d. D. & Willumsen, L. G. (2001), Modelling transport, 3rd edition, John
Wiley & Sons Ltd, Chicester.
Reif, B. (1973), Models in urban and regional planning, Leonard Hill Books,
Aylesbury.
Sussman, J. (2000), Introduction to transportation systems, Artech House, Boston.
210 Mirjan Bouwman and Gerard Linden
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 211

11
Formal Evaluation in Environmental
and Infrastructure Planning

Henk Voogd

1 Introduction

In the beginning, God created the heaven and the earth. And God saw
everything that he made. "Behold," God said, "it is very good." And the
evening and the morning were the sixth day. And on the seventh day God
rested from all His work. His archangel came then unto Him asking,
"God, how do you know that what you have created is ‘very good’? What
are your criteria? On what data do you base your judgment? Just
exactly what results were you expecting to attain? And aren’t you a little
close to the situation to make a fair and unbiased evaluation?" God
thought about these questions all that day and His rest was greatly
disturbed. On the eighth day God said, "Lucifer, go to hell" Thus was
evaluation born in a blaze of glory. (From Michael Patton, 1986)

How can planners assist in clarifying the consequences of different

choices in planning processes? The most obvious answer is by
212 Henk Voogd

comparing the characteristics of the various choices in an explicit and

systematic manner, in other words by performing an ex-ante evaluation.
Many so-called ‘formal’ methods, i.e. methods with a mathematical
logic, have been developed in the last thirty years to support this task.
However, only a very few methods seem to have survived the ravages of
time.
Even before the Second World War, various attempts were made
to perform a systematic evaluation of government policy (see e.g.
Nijkamp et al., 1990). The tone was set by the evaluation of the
Tennessee Valley Plan in the USA. The policymaking process for this
large-scale water management project was assisted by a rather elaborate
monetary evaluation of costs and benefits. Consequently, after the war,
cost-benefit analysis became the preferred methodology for ex-ante
evaluation in many countries.
The emphasis on monetary assessment gradually shifted in the
1960s, thanks to the influential publications of Lichfield (1970) about the
‘planning balance sheet’ and Hill (1968) about the ‘goals-achievement
matrix’. Their pioneering work has had an important impact on an entire
generation of planners, certainly in the Netherlands. It was not so much
the technical ‘sophistication’ of their methods, but rather their powers of
conviction and ‘transparency’ in reducing a problem of choice into
manageable judgement criteria – goals and objectives – and impact
ratings. It certainly inspired planning practitioners in the 1960s and
1970s, which provided an impetus for more practical applications of
goal-oriented ex-ante ‘multicriteria evaluation’ methods in planning
practice. The critique of these approaches in the 1960s and 1970s mainly
focussed on the technocratic method of their use. In particular, the use of
arbitrary numerical weights, the fixation on ‘hard’ (i.e. numerically
measurable) criteria, and ‘optimisation’ characteristics were easy targets
for criticism (see Chadwick, 1971; Lichfield et al., 1975).
Over the years, a wealth of techniques for multicriteria analysis
(MCA) have been documented: for examples see Saaty (1980), Rietveld
(1982), Voogd (1983), Roy (1985, 1996), Shefer & Voogd (1990),
Nijkamp, Rietveld & Voogd (1990), Vincke (1992), Munda (1995),
Beinat & Nijkamp (1998) and Malczewski (1999). Yet it is surprising
that, in general, the specialized literature in the field of multicriteria
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 213

analysis (or multi-attribute decision analysis or multi-objective analysis)

hardly seems to be concerned with the contextual problems that are
encountered in real-life public decision-making. Despite the large body
of knowledge available, the application of sophisticated evaluation
techniques in public planning practice has had little success so far. In
Dutch environmental and infrastructure planning practice, as Janssen
(2001) illustrates, only a very few multicriteria evaluation methods have
actually been applied, i.e. applied by people who were neither the
founders nor the commercial advocates of the method.
The purpose of this chapter is twofold. First, it aims to provide an
overview of the basic principles of formal evaluation methods. Second, it
aims to illustrate that the improvement of ex ante evaluation
methodology in planning has, to a large extent, involved a learning
curve. This chapter will discuss the consequences for the role of
evaluation methods in planning processes.

2 Principles of Formal Evaluation

Formal evaluation methods are essentially designed as a method for

classifying a number of options. These alternatives can be projects or
plans, but can also represent different geographical locations such as
potential building sites, neighbourhoods, transport routes, etc. Doubtless
the most important component is the evaluation matrix with the structure
shown in Table 1.

Alternative A Alternative B Alternative C ….

Criterion 1
Criterion 2
Criterion 3
…
…
…
…
Table 1. Evaluation Matrix

This evaluation matrix is also known as a ‘project-effect matrix’, ‘impact

matrix’ or similar. A formal evaluation assumes that each alternative can
214 Henk Voogd

be appraised by means of a criterion. Each criterion must use the same

measurement scale for appraisal. Five measurement scales are usually
distinguished: the nominal, binary, ordinal, interval and ratio scales. The
ratio scale includes most information (see Table 2).

Scale origin Measurement Order

unit
Ratio scale Known Known Known
Interval scale Unknown Known Known
Ordinal scale Unknown Unknown Known
Binary scale Unknown Unknown May be
partially known
Nominal scale Unknown Unknown Unknown
Table 2. Measurement scales

The ratio scale and interval scale are also called the quantitative or
cardinal scales. The ordinal, binary and nominal measurement scales are
denoted as qualitative scales. Suppose we have information about, for
example, the parking capacity in various urban design options. Table 3
shows how this information would look for each scale.

Measurement Comments A B C
scale
Ratio scale Measurement unit is cars 2100 1400 1700
Interval scale Compared to A 0 700 400
Ordinal scale More ++ is better +++ + ++
Binary scale 1 is more than 1500; 0 1 0 1
is less
Nominal scale Ownership C&A Public V&D
Table 3. Examples of measurement scales

Clearly, one can only compare scores that are measured using the
same scale and measurement units. Since the nominal scale does not
reflect an order, it should be transferred to another scale by defining one
or more criteria to represent the variable concerned. For the example in
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 215

Table 3, a possible criterion would be ‘Which owner is willing to

participate in the new project or policy?’
An important proportion of less recent evaluation literature is
concerned with methods that are based on ‘money’ as the common
denominator, i.e. cost-benefit analysis (CBA). For an overview in the
field of planning, see Shofield (1987). Obviously, money is measured on
a ratio scale and the measurement unit in that case will be ‘dollar’, ‘euro’
or any other currency. The benefits and costs of a project must be
expressed not only in equivalent monetary value, but also in terms of
euros at a particular time. Evidently, a euro available in five years’ time
will not be as valuable as a euro available now. This is because a euro
that is invested now, and earns interest over the next five years, will be
worth more than a euro in five years’ time. If the interest rate is r, then a
euro invested for t years will increase to (1+r) t. The amount of money
that would have to be deposited now so that it increased to one euro in t
years is (1+r)-t. This is called the discounted value or present value of a
euro available in t years’ time. When the euro value of benefits at some
time in the future is multiplied by the discounted value of one euro at
that time in the future, the result is the discounted present value of the
benefit of the alternative. The same reasoning applies to costs. The net
benefit of an alternative is simply the sum of the present value of benefits
minus the present value of the cost.
The main problems with applying CBA to public-planning
problems (also known as social cost-benefit analysis) can be summarized
as follows:
• The impossibility of including distributional effects in the
analysis, e.g. it is assumed that the appreciation of 10,000 euros
for group A is equal to 10,000 euros for group B, which is hardly
ever true in practice.
• The monetary benefits and costs of projects with social impacts
can only be estimated by making many technical assumptions,
thus involving a great deal of uncertainty.
• These assumptions mean that the outcome of a CBA, although
presented in euros or dollars, does not represent ‘real’ money but
only an abstract technical accounting unit that is labelled ‘euro’
216 Henk Voogd

or ‘dollar’. Political decision-makers, who only think in terms of

‘real’ euros or dollars, often improperly understand this.
• The conflict-related nature of planning decisions, which is
difficult to deal with using ‘static’ (or ‘one-shot’) conventional
cost-benefit methodology. The aim in modern public planning is
not to be confronted with a single, forced solution, but with a
spectrum of feasible solutions.

Non-monetary evaluation approaches therefore prevail. The purpose of a

formal evaluation method is to condense the multidimensional
information in Table 1 into one-dimensional judgements about
alternatives, for example a summary ranking of options, or the famous
‘bottom line’ of a consultancy advisory report. Subconsciously, people
often use a very simple lexicographic method whereby they intuitively
select the best option (Voogd, 1983). This implies that the best option for
the most important criterion is the best option of all (e.g. compare the
ranking of countries by the number of medals won at the Olympic
Games).
Many formal evaluation methods, however, are based on an
explicit weighting of criterion scores. Most multicriteria evaluation
methods are based on the compensation principle, i.e. good scores for
less important criteria may compensate poorer scores on more important
criteria (e.g. three silver medals equal one gold medal). This assumed
compensation is critical and therefore debatable: can a blow to the left
side of the face really be compensated by a blow to the right side?
A key activity in any evaluation is the collection of information
about the alternatives to be evaluated. The evaluation matrix of Table 1
can be filled with ratio-scale scores for different measurement units (e.g.
number of cars, number of people, euros, hectares). These ‘raw’ scores
must then be translated into ‘standardized scores’ with the same
(artificial) measurement unit. In cost-benefit analysis, this is done by
attaching prices to the information. In multicriteria methods,
comparisons are possible by applying ‘standardization methods’.
There are several standardization formulae. The choice of a
formula depends on how its results are to be used. If an evaluation
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 217

method is based on the ratio-scale properties of scores, two formulae are

usually applied:

(1) ši = si / max si
i
or

(2) ši = si / S si
i

where ši is a standardized value of si . Obviously, formula 2 is only

useful in cases whereby the scores si are mutually dependent, because
changing one score will affect all the other scores. If the scores are not
interdependent, such as the scores in an evaluation matrix, only formula
1 is appropriate.
Another standardization approach that is frequently used, but also
misused because of the violation of interval-scale assumptions, is:
(3) ši = [si – min si] / [max si– min si]
i i i

Formula 3 can only be used in cases where ši is treated as a score on an

interval measurement scale, i.e. a score with an unknown origin.

The characteristics of the various standardization approaches are

illustrated in Table 4, with an example for three ‘raw’ scores.

i=1 i=2 i=3 Characteristics

‘raw score si’ 135 35 110
formula (1) 1 0.259 0.814 1 = ši > 0 if si ? 0 else ši = 0
formula (2) 0.482 0.125 0.393 1 > ši > 0 if si ? 0 else ši = 0
formula (3) 1 0 0.75 1 = ši = 0
Table 4. Standardization approaches

A multicriteria evaluation begins with the classification of I alternative

options by means of J criteria. Suppose an evaluation matrix E of order
IxJ with elements eij (cf. Table 1). ‘Soft’ problems are defined mainly
by qualitative or ordinal information on scores eij, whereas ‘hard’
218 Henk Voogd

problems are based on quantitative (i.e. ratio scale) information on

elements eij. A frequently used hard MCA method is weighted
summation (e.g. see Keeney and Raiffa, 1976). This method defines the
expected value vi of option i (i=1,2,...,I) as:

(4) vi = S wj êij
j
where wj is a numerical weight attached to criterion j and êij is a
standardized value for the evaluation score eij. In order to be consistent
only formula (1) can be used for this standardization, i.e.

(5) êij = eij / max eij .

i
The development of soft multicriteria methods was the result of the
criticism levelled at quantitative methods, such as the weighted
summation method, that they were unable to deal adequately with
qualitative information (see e.g. Voogd, 1982). All the soft methods are
based on an evaluation matrix E, with a qualitative structure such as the
following hypothetical example:

+++ ++ +++ …
++ + + …
(6) E = +++ + ++ …
…
…

Here it is assumed that the number of plusses represents the ordinal

appreciation of an evaluation score, i.e. +++ means a better ranking than
++. This qualitative evaluation matrix can be treated in different ways:
a) Visualisation (graphical display etc.) of qualitative data, e.g. by
applying different colour schemes
b) Quantification of ranking information by linking the information
to an explicit model structure (e.g. mathematical distribution
function, scaling model, etc.)
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 219

c) Transformation of ranking information into binary (‘yes/no’)

scores, to which arithmetic procedures can be applied.
An example of the first approach is the ‘score card approach’, whereby
colours or shading are used to distinguish the quality of different options
(see e.g. Bertin, 1981; Daru, 1985). Examples of the second approach are
given in Voogd (1983), one example being geometric scaling. The third
approach is used most by various frequency methods (see Nijkamp et al.,
1990).
Dutch academic research into the evaluation of planning and
projects in the 1980s has concentrated on the development of methods
capable of dealing with mixed data, i.e. evaluation matrices containing
quantitative scores and qualitative rankings. Evidently, in practice,
matrix E often has a mixed structure, as in the following example:

+++ ++ +++ …
12 27 87 …
(7) E = +++ + ++ …
768 938 834 …
…

This resulted in the mixed evaluation approach Evamix (cf. Voogd,

1982, 1983), which is applied most in Dutch planning practice, after
weighted summation (cf. Janssen, 2001). It is also applied as evaluation
method outside the Netherlands (see e.g. Maimone, 1985; Powel, 1996;
Villa et al., 2002).
220 Henk Voogd

Figure 1. The Evamix approach (cf. Voogd, 1982)

The basic principle underlying Evamix is simple (Figure 1). It

subdivides the evaluation matrix with mixed ‘ordinal-cardinal’ data into
a qualitative sub-matrix consisting of all ordinal criteria, and a
quantitative sub-matrix that includes all quantitative criteria. These two
sub-matrices are then used to calculate separate dominance matrices for
which pairs of alternatives are compared, resulting in a qualitative
dominance score and a quantitative dominance score for each pair. Given
the weights attached to the various criteria of both sub-matrices, an
overall weight can be determined for the dominance scores of the ordinal
criteria (i.e. the sum of weights of ordinal criteria) and the dominance
scores of the cardinal criteria (i.e. sum of weights of cardinal criteria).
These overall weights are used for a weighted amalgamation of both
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 221

dominance matrices into one overall dominance matrix, which makes it

possible to classify the options.

3 Weighting and priorities

One much-voiced and persistent criticism of multicriteria evaluation

methods is the need for weighting to reflect the relative importance of
the various criterion scores in the evaluation matrix. It is mainly at this
point that a significant difference between multicriteria evaluation and
cost-benefit analysis (CBA) emerges. In a CBA, the importance of the
impacts of alternatives are evaluated by expressing market prices in
‘pseudo’ or ‘shadow’ form. A major problem with this approach is that
many social problems do not follow the rules of a free market. Market
distortions such as monopoly, price regulations and disequilibria (e.g.
unemployment) often play an important role, and as a consequence
prices are often rather poor indicators of real scarcities and relevant
social preferences. Moreover, as the range of impacts under
consideration widens, the use of market prices becomes more and more
questionable. For example, what is the price of a unique historic
building, which may be demolished due to the construction of new
infrastructure?
In practice, the weighting of evaluation scores hardly appears to
be a problem if it is not aimed at ‘true’ weights, similar to the prices in a
CBA. It is therefore necessary to make a distinction between weightings
and priorities. The notion weighting will be used if the preferences are
expressed on a ratio scale, in other words, as a ‘utility’ in hard numbers.
The notion priority is used if the preferences are given as a ranking on an
ordinal scale. Priorities can therefore be considered as less accurate, soft
weights.
There is a considerable variety of methods for translating and
modelling preferences into weightings. The majority deal with the
assessment of trade-offs in a utility context, such as

(8) U = a 1e1 + a 2e2 + ... + a JeJ

where ej is the j-th criterion, and a j its corresponding weighting. Many

quantitative weighting methods are based on this linear utility function.
222 Henk Voogd

In theory, the weights a j can be directly estimated using several methods

(Nijkamp et al., 1990). However, in public decision-making situations
the use of such ‘true weights’ derived from questionnaires is entirely
meaningless! Many years ago, Eckenrode (1965) showed that the
outcomes of the derivation of numerical weights strongly depend on the
method used. Voogd (1983) also discussed research that proves that
measured numerical weights differ not only in the method used, but also
with respect to the formulation of the problem: people’s preferences
differ in terms of time, place and context. A slight change in a question
or asking the question at a different time of day, or a similar variation,
will result in different numerical weights, often even fundamentally
different (i.e. with different ranking orders).
The best way to approach the weighting problem in multicriteria
evaluation is by presenting various qualitative priority sets. ‘Qualitative’
sets are desirable because it is much easier and more realistic to express
the fact that ‘preserving environmental quality’ is more important than,
for example, ‘reducing unemployment’. This in contrast to the statement
that ‘preserving environmental issues is 1.236 times more important than
reducing unemployment’. Each priority set should reflect a point of view
(e.g. political of social) as accurately as possible. The points of view
need not correspond with the actual preferences of decision-makers.
Evidently, politicians and other political executives are very often not
prepared or – more likely – unable to formulate priorities in such an
explicit way. It is therefore much better to show the consequences of a
variety of standpoints, rather than a single interpretation of what would
be an artificial, non-existent, ‘best weight set’.
Qualitative priorities can be used in a multicriteria evaluation by
transforming them into most likely quantitative weights. By assuming a
uniform distribution, the expected values of the metric weights, denoted
as E(wj)(j=1,2,…J), can be directly calculated on the basis of the priority
ranking (see e.g. Rietveld, 1984; Nijkamp et al., 1990).

The expected-value approach uses the following formulae for the most
probable cardinal weight set E(w):
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 223

E(w1) = 1/J2
E(w2) = 1/J2 + 1/J(J-1)
…
(9) …
E(wJ-1) = 1/J2 + 1/J(J-1) + ... + 1/J.2
E(wJ) = 1/J2 + 1/J(J-1) + ... + 1/J.2 + 1/J.1

for which it holds that the criteria are ordered such that w1 > w2 > .. > wJ.
More technical details about this expected value method can be found in
Rietveld (1984). E(w) can be used as estimates of weights for evaluation
methods like Evamix.

4 Application experiences in the Netherlands

Formal evaluation methods have been used in Dutch planning since the
1960s. Since then interesting developments have taken place, both with
respect to methodology and to the way evaluation problems are dealt
with in practice. Four different transition stages can be distinguished that
partially overlap in time, and can be characterized as follows (Voogd,
1997b):
• From naive certainty to mathematical uncertainty
• From isolated activity to an integrated framework
• From a professional to a political process
• From a comprehensive planning instrument to a tool for Environ-
mental Assessment.

Since the lessons from history are still relevant today for a thorough
appreciation of formal evaluation methods, these transition stages will be
discussed below.
4.1 From naive certainty to mathematical uncertainty

One of the first applications of a formal evaluation method in the

Netherlands was by Utrecht, who produced their report ‘Globale Visie’
in 1970. In those days, the report was considered by many Dutch
planners to be a sign of a new planning approach, almost similar to the
224 Henk Voogd

reception in the UK of the famous Coventry-Solihull-Warwickshire

study in 1971. In this report it was explicitly assumed that there was a
clear distinction between the professional preparation of ‘facts’ by
planners, and the weighting of these ‘facts’ by the government. The plan
involved schemes whereby the politicians were invited to give their own
numerical weights and to multiply these weights by the professional’s
scores and, finally, to add them up to obtain a score for the various
alternative plans. Although the multitude of judgement criteria –
objectives – and the explicit treatment of values were seen as very
positive aspects of this approach, the supposed ‘DIY arithmetic1’ of the
politicians was not a success. In the years to follow, no similar ‘DIY’
applications can be found in Dutch planning practice. On the contrary,
evaluation methods gradually evolved from mere decision-making
methods into tools for justifying policy choices (cf. Faludi & Voogd,
1985).
Unfortunately, this justification by means of a formal evaluation
was not always done in a smart way. This can be illustrated by the 1979
multicriteria analysis for the national ‘Structure Scheme for Civil
Aviation Airfields’. A translated quotation about this evaluation exposes
a naïve certainty: ‘The application of the scores (...) is to a large extent
based on the available information. This information has been collected
by a team of experts from the sector department, the physical planning
agency and the Dutch Economic Institute. For that purpose, many
meetings have been held. Based on existing knowledge and insights, and
after careful weighting, scores have been determined. The aim is to be as
objective as as possible. The scores in this structure scheme are
therefore considered to be established facts.’ (SBL, 1979, page 224).
Clearly, during their many meetings, the experts were able to produce a
single, but very objective, hard numerical set of weights, whereby the
criterion ‘employment’ received precisely 33 points (not 32 or 34
points), whereas the same experts thought that the criterion ‘earning
capacity’ was worth only 24 points. The incredible accuracy of the
scoring and weighting in the Structure Scheme for Civil Aviation
Airfields gave rise, quite rightly, to much criticism. This is evidence that

1 DIY is Do-It-Yourself.
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 225

a proper, and above all modest, presentation of evaluation results is an

essential part of any evaluation exercise. If an evaluation is performed
with the aim of justifying policy choices, which in itself is a very fair
aim, then ethics demand that uncertainties must be explicitly stated. This
relates in particular to the uncertainty inherent in the weighting of
judgement criteria, which is always arbitrary, as well as in the
uncertainty caused by the technical assumptions of the evaluation
method used (Voogd, 1983).
4.2 From isolated activity to an integrated framework

One of the first large-scale planning projects in which explicit

attention was paid to uncertainties was the STUNET project. This was an
interdepartmental commission, chaired by a former Dutch prime
minister, with the task of performing a feasibility and location study for
an artificial island for industrial activities in the North Sea (see
STUNET, 1979; Ten Broek, 1978). Instead of using a single evaluation
method, many different multicriteria methods were applied to gain
insight into ‘method uncertainties’. In addition, for the first time in an
actual planning process, ‘soft’ or ‘qualitative’ multicriteria methods were
used, i.e. methods using only weights and criterion scores measured on
an ordinal or qualitative measurement scale and denoted, for example by
plus or minus signs. Detailed discussion of the STUNET project is
outside the scope of this chapter (but see Nijkamp et al., 1990), although
some of the experiences with the evaluation methods used in the project
require further attention.
The most important lesson from the STUNET project is that an
ex ante evaluation should not be regarded as the conclusion of a planning
process, a mistake that was made in the STUNET process, but as an
integral part of the entire planning process. Although a special
committee was appointed at the beginning of the process to perform the
evaluation, there was no connection whatsoever between the
committee’s tasks and the many research projects that were
commissioned from external research institutes. When the evaluation
stage of the STUNET project finally arrived, it appeared that most of the
many external studies were of little or no value for the evaluation
exercise, i.e. they bore no proper relation to the choice problem: do we
226 Henk Voogd

need an industrial island in the North Sea and, if so, where should it be
located? A great deal of information was collected about the sexual
behaviour of goldfish in the North Sea, so to speak, but important
logistic questions were not investigated at all, and the answers could
only be guessed at during the evaluation. In addition, during the two-year
planning process, a general consensus evolved among the participants
that an artificial industrial island was not desirable because economic
and political circumstances had changed. Therefore, when the evaluation
was performed, the outcome was more or less known in advance.
The STUNET project has taught us that a multicriteria evaluation
is most effective if it is the structural basis for the entire project. Some of
the problems experienced during the STUNET project could have been
resolved with a cyclical approach: first an experimental – qualitative –
evaluation, which will probably be partly speculative. This approach
should detect knowledge gaps that are relevant for the particular choice
problem. This enables research to be geared specifically to the specific
policy or evaluation problem. It will result in an improvement of the
experimental evaluation matrix, and hence in a new application of the
multicriteria evaluation. An important advantage of this cyclical
approach, which is based on learning, is that further steps in the process
are more closely linked to the issues that are relevant in decision-
making, and more opportunities are created for stopping the planning
process at an earlier stage, thus avoiding an undesirable and costly ‘fly-
wheel effect’.
4.3 From a professional to a political process

In the early 1980s, another large-scale multicriteria evaluation

study, EVOLIM, was performed for regional mineral planning to
determine the locations for future gravel production in the Dutch
province of Limburg. This project built on the experiences described
above. Consequently, in contrast to the STUNET project, the evaluation
was now the backbone of the entire planning process. The ‘mixed data’
evaluation approach Evamix was used, in which both ‘hard’ and ‘soft’
information are simultaneously analysed (see section 3).
The multicriteria framework, in particular the evaluation
matrices, proved very useful during the planning process (Bennema et
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 227

al., 1985). The discussions about the criteria were very helpful in gaining
insight into the relevant issues. It also appeared that, by focussing on
uncertainties in the evaluation, the focus of the discussions shifted away
from the method and towards the problem. This was considered to be a
benefit of the approach. However, it also implied a reserved attitude in
those responsible for the actual evaluation. This can be illustrated by a
brief example.
Most multicriteria methods need information about the relative
importance of criterion scores, i.e. weights or priorities. It is pointless to
use numerical estimates for these weights (see section 2). Qualitative
expressions in terms of ‘important’ or ‘less important’ are usually the
most feasible in practice. Remarkably, neither the criterion scores nor the
priorities used evoked much debate in the EVOLIM project. During the
process, a variety of possible priority views were continuously used, not
as empirically derived (i.e. measured) priority statements, but as
hypothetical assumptions for which others could be substituted. This
convinced the participants, most of whom were planners from various
governmental bodies and political executives, that these priorities were
not carved in stone. Consequently, the EVOLIM project did not
deliberately generate a ‘single best’ solution. A broad spectrum of
solutions were presented, all based on the assumption that gravel
production in the province of Limburg should be continued.
Elections brought an important change in political power during
the last phase of the EVOLIM project. All the possible solutions from
the multicriteria evaluation pointed to the development of new quarries
away from the environmentally sensitive basin of the river Maas.
However, the new regional government, which wanted to phase out
mineral extraction, did not agree with this conclusion. It feared that by
accepting a new, more environmentally friendly quarry away from the
traditional gravel extraction areas along the river Maas, the province of
Limburg would enter a new era of continuous mineral production. For
this reason they decided, despite and against the EVOLIM results, in
favour of a new, far less suitable, gravel pit along the Maas. The
EVOLIM report was published a few years later, without information
about this favoured location. Clearly, the EVOLIM experience illustrates
that the success or failure of a multicriteria approach is strongly related
228 Henk Voogd

to the people – politicians and planners – involved in the project and its
organizational and political context.
4.4 From a comprehensive planning instrument to a tool for
Environmental Assessment

There is widespread agreement that the efficient and economical

attainment of environmental policy objectives in infrastructure planning
requires the explicit consideration of environmental impact during the
early stages of planning or project development. This widespread
agreement is illustrated, among other things, by the adoption in 1985 of a
general directive for Environmental Impact Assessments (EIA) by the
Council of the European Union. Consequently, as of 1988, a ruling on
environmental impact assessments must be implemented in all EU
countries (e.g. see also Chapter 12).
Dutch legislation on EIA has proved to be very influential in
terms of how evaluation studies were performed in Dutch planning
practice in the 1980s and 1990s. The legislation rigorously stipulates
how planning alternatives should be distinguished and evaluated, but it
does not provide strict methodological guidelines.
Many EIA studies have been performed in the Netherlands using
some form of multicriteria evaluation (see Table 5 and Janssen, 2001). It
can be regarded as a sign of ‘technical maturity’ that the application of
formal evaluation methods is now rarely discussed. A major reason is the
lack of emphasis during the last decade on mathematical structure and/or
arithmetic exercises. Of paramount importance is the construction of the
evaluation matrix, i.e. the definition of alternatives and judgement
criteria. For example, in the past, infrastructure plans mainly dealt with
the presentation of infrastructure alternatives, e.g. the generation and
evaluation of various road alignments and their consequences for the
area concerned. However, since the introduction of EIA, other kinds of
alternatives have had to be developed. For example, if a traffic problem
involves finding an alternative route for a congested road, the EIA pro-
cedure more or less requires the development and examination of
alternatives for reducing mobility, such as the improvement of public
transport at the location. Clearly, this has led to an increase in the variety
and number of alternatives.
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 229

In short, according to the Dutch rules for EIA, the following

types of alternatives must be evaluated (see also Chapter 12):
(a) The ‘zero-alternative’, i.e. do nothing
(b) Alternatives related to different policy goals, e.g. reducing
congestion versus reducing car mobility
(c) Implementation alternatives, e.g. different alignments
(d) Alternatives that combine elements from other alternatives
(e) The most environmentally friendly alternative.

Clearly, this implies that the organisation of the planning process

involves many different disciplines.
Apart from considering various alternatives, an infrastructure
project plan must also explain the objectives of the project and the
interest it serves. What social problems will be alleviated or solved by
the project? In addition, previous and future governmental decisions
regarding the problems at hand must be indicated. Any restrictions
imposed by earlier decisions must be clearly stated, thus ensuring that
the project does not concern itself with matters that have already been
decided. In some cases, the plan will also indicate which decisions will
have to be taken at a later stage. Furthermore, a list of missing knowledge
and information must be drawn up. If, in the view of the decision-
making authority, the uncertainties are still too great, the authority itself
– not the team responsible for the project plan – will have to carry out
further research.
So far, large-scale infrastructure projects in the Netherlands have
always been subject to some kind of formal evaluation, for example the
Betuwe Railway, the expansion of Schiphol Airport, and the high-peed
rail link through or alongside the ‘Green Heart’ of the Randstad
conurbation in the west of the Netherlands. At least three aspects are
remarkable in these applications:
a) Formal evaluation methods were applied in all these projects, but they
played only a minor role in political discussions. They were mainly used
to reduce the number of alternatives in the political arena. Moreover,
new alternatives were introduced during these discussions. Although the
alternatives had not been systematically evaluated earlier in the planning
process, they nevertheless played an important role in decision-making.
230 Henk Voogd

Activities Year Problem size Evaluation

Method
(1) Provincial sludge treatment 1992 16 criteria, 29 alternatives Concordance
plan, Flevoland method
(2) Provincial waste processing 1992 23 criteria, 7 alternatives Weighted
plan, Flevoland summation
(3) Wreck processing installations, 1992 14 criteria, 5 alternatives Aggregation
Oosterhout of ordinal
scores
(4) Road, train and water transport 1993 50 criteria, 9 alternatives Graphical
in the Amsterdam–Utrecht presentation
transport corridor
(5) Siting a solid waste dump in 1993 52 criteria, 61 alternatives Evamix
the Province of Utrecht
(6) Siting and design of a storage 1994 35 criteria, 5 alternatives Evamix
facility for polluted sediment in the
Hollandsch Diep
(7) Siting of new residential areas 1994 20 criteria, 10 alternatives Weighted
in Zaanstad summation
(8) Design of a freshwater 1994 32 criteria, 7 alternatives Weighted
reservoir in the Biesbosch summation
wetlands
(9) Siting and design of a storage 1995 30 criteria, 15 alternatives Evamix
facility for polluted sediment
(10) Highway 73, Venlo–Sint Joost 1995 75 criteria, 13 alternatives Weighted
summation
(11) International business park, 1995 21 criteria, 4 alternatives Weighted
Friesland summation
(12) Siting and design of helicopter 1995 43 criteria, 4 alternatives Weighted
training site, De Haar summation
(13) Decontamination of polluted 1995 35 criteria, 6 alternatives Weighted
sediment summation
(14) Betuwe freight railway 1996 40 criteria, 20 alternatives Weighted
summation
(15) Highway 2, Vianen–Den 1997 56 criteria, 10 alternatives Weighted
Bosch summation
(16) Highway 15, Varsseveld– 1998 76 criteria, 16 alternatives Weighted
Enschede summation
(17) North-east link of the Betuwe 1999 93 criteria, 36 alternatives Weighted
freight railway summation
(18) Provincial road N219, 1999 24 criteria, 5 alternatives Evamix
Zevenhuizen bypass
(19) River development, Zandmaas 1999 100 criteria, 3 alternatives Weighted
summation
(20) Hanze rail link, Lelystad– 2000 92 criteria, 7 alternatives Weighted
Zwolle summation
(21) Reconstruction of ring road, 2000 28 criteria; 4 alternatives Weighted
Amsterdam (A10 west) summation
(Source: Janssen, 2001)
Table 5. Examples of Environmental and Infrastructure Projects
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 231

b) In all projects the alternatives were clearly defined from what Karl
Mannheim (1940) refers to as a functional rational perspective (i.e. goals
are not the subject of discussion), instead of a broader substantive
rational perspective (which includes goals). Consequently, the ‘zero’
alternative was always badly defined and never seriously elaborated.
Alternatives outside the administrative domain of the parties directly
involved were not considered. For example, the municipal authorities of
Amsterdam and Haarlemmermeer, the provincial authority of North
Holland, the National Physical Planning Agency, and the management of
Schiphol Airport commissioned several studies of the expansion of
Schiphol. It is obvious that these parties were only interested in
investigating expansion options within the Amsterdam region and not,
for example, in the adjacent, sparsely populated province of Flevoland,
which was not invited to participate.
c) The EIAs of all projects, including the evaluation exercise within the
EIA studies, hardly played any role in the decision-making process.
Again, the most obvious example is the expansion of Schiphol Airport.
The Dutch government made its decision about the location of a new
runway even before the experts of the national EIA review commission
formally reviewed the EIA.

5 Evaluation in a participative society

The reappraisal of the relationship between formal evaluation

methods, their use and actual planning processes is part of a series of
fundamental shifts that have become apparent in the past decade in
western economies and societies in general, and also in the philosophy
and methods of planning in terms of how new plans and projects are
developed and managed. In the heyday of Dutch spatial planning, the
1960s and 1970s (cf. Faludi & Van der Valk, 1994), much emphasis was
placed on the application of rational planning methods. This
development was not restricted to the Netherlands but can also be
witnessed in other countries. In the 1970s, multicriteria evaluation
methods came to the fore, based on the fact that intangible (or
incommensurable) effects and conflicts of interest conflicts were a
central part of policy analysis and judgement, which cannot be
232 Henk Voogd

represented by monetary methods such as a cost-benefit analysis.

Following the French tradition of les méthodes de choix multicritères
(e.g. Buffet et al. 1967, Roy, 1972), much academic work has been done,
especially in the Netherlands, on developing new approaches in multi-
criteria analysis. A particular stimulus to this development was given by
the emergence of environmental problems with many qualitative
dimensions. As illustrated in section 3, many innovations were the result
of criticism and limitations disclosed in practical applications. For
example, the development of qualitative weighting and mixed data
techniques is clearly the result of a learning process.

Figure 3. Evaluation process according to Hickling (1985)

It is remarkable that most technical innovations took place in the

1970s following the analytical paradigm of ‘mainstream’ planning of the
time. It was clearly based on the assumption of planning as a technical
activity undertaken by apolitical professionals. Of course, the interaction
in the evaluation process was recognized, see Figure 3.
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 233

As the EVOLIM project described in this chapter clearly

illustrates, in the 1980s it was no longer strictly necessary for political
executives to present their decisions as the obvious result of rational
analysis. In the 1980s, traditional concepts such as ‘rationality’ and
‘social justice’ seemed no longer to be of interest to the planning
community and were replaced by new concepts such as ‘consensus
building’ or ‘communicative planning’. Again, this was not only a Dutch
experience, but can also be noticed in many European countries (see also
Woltjer, this volume). Consequently, the focus shifted away from the
quality of the decision towards the quality of the decision-making
process. Decision-making today is no longer seen as an intellectual
process but as a socio-political and organizational process. Evaluation
methods are only relevant in this context if they are able to support a
BATNA, a ‘best alternative to a negotiated agreement’ (Susskind &
Cruikshank, 1987). In decision-making situations with complex power
structures, this situation will seldom arise, probably because BATNAs
are difficult to recognise in advance.
Currently, four different situations can be recognised with respect
to the use of formal evaluation methods in the Netherlands (see Table 6).

Rational justification Rational justification

required by law not required by law

(1) (3)
Hierarchical power Formal evaluation Formal evaluation
structure methods regularly used, methods used in sector
both in EIA and other planning
impact studies

(2) (4)
Mixed power Formal evaluation Formal evaluation
structure methods used only in EIA methods only used ‘in
disguise’
(e.g. in GIS studies,
market analysis)

Table 6. Classification of planning situations and the use of formal

ex-ante evaluation methods.
234 Henk Voogd

Type 1 in Table 6 refers to situations often witnessed in

infrastructure planning. In this situation, the Dutch government is still
able to exercise power due to their financial involvement and strict
licensing systems. In most infrastructure projects, an environmental
impact assessment (EIA) is a legal requirement, so this is still a fruitful
area for formal evaluations. Usually, these EIAs are extended to include
non-environmental considerations.
In a type 2 planning situation, rational justification is prescribed
by law or regulations. Actors relate to each other within a complex,
mixed, power structure. Formal evaluation methods are, in this situation,
also used if an EIA has to be performed. In planning situations of type 3,
evaluation methods are mainly applied in specific fields of
environmental and infrastructure planning, such as mineral-extraction
planning and water management. For reasons of public accountability,
these fields still operate from a ‘classic’ planning paradigm based on the
appreciation of instrumental rationality, due among other things to high
investment. Formal evaluation methods are almost absent in the
traditional fields of planning represented by type 4, such as urban design,
urban renewal or strategic regional planning, although an evaluation
matrix is sometimes used. An exception to this rule is the ‘hidden’ use as
an analytical tool, usually under a different, more fancy name such as
‘target group analysis’, ‘market segmentation analysis’, ‘competition
analysis’ or ‘potency analysis’ (see e.g. Ashworth & Voogd, 1997). This
development can also be witnessed in research on Geographical
Information Systems (GIS) where multicriteria analysis has been
integrated as a useful ‘component’ (Eastman et al., 1993; Malczewski,
1999; Wyatt, 1999).
It is difficult to give a proper explanation for the absence of
interest in systematic evaluation in this field. The most probable answer
would be the changing role of the government in this field (see also
Reiner, 1990). In the past, the government was clearly the leading actor,
and housing was the major instrument for guiding change. It was then
felt important to at least give the outside world the impression that
government decisions were ‘right’ from a substantive rational point of
view, especially if they were imposed upon others. Currently, the
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 235

substantive quality of decisions in terms of sustainability, equity,

effectiveness or efficiency seems far less important than procedural
issues such as ‘how to satisfy actors with hindrance power’, or ease of
implementation. This reveals an ethical dilemma: is there a ‘general
interest’ that provides a framework for evaluation, or is it only a shared
interest among those who have the most power?
Clearly, planning involves many participants. Lichfield (1975, 1996) has
always rightly emphasized that evaluation should focus on the
community affected by planning proposals. Instead of a simple
evaluation table (cf. Table 1), he advocated balance sheets that provide
an overview of impacts for all relevant groups in the community.
Unfortunately, today’s search for a ‘win-win’ alternative is no longer
based on discussions about all available relevant information, which is
the basis for any systematic evaluation, but on a selective, strategic use
of information to support existing standpoints and private interests. The
motto of today’s planning processes often seems to be ‘nice guys finish
last’, which means that instruments that might provide ammunition for
the enemy are not very popular (cf. Woltjer, 2000). Evaluation methods
certainly belong to that category because they can also be used to
emphasize or ignore certain information. For example, in EIAs it is not
unusual to remove criteria from the evaluation matrix for the reason that
they do not distinguish adequately between the alternatives (cf. Mooren,
1996). Clearly, if this relates to ‘negative’ criteria from the point of view
of the project proposal, the resulting evaluation matrix may certainly
paint too optimistic a picture at first sight. This illustrates that an
evaluation, as with most analytical activities in planning, should always
be judged as a partisan activity. This implies that transparency is very
important, often a fundamental weakness of formal evaluation methods.
The transparency of an evaluation implies a paradigm shift: from
preparing information about preselected alternatives towards involving
stakeholders in the evaluation process. Clearly, today, the role of
evaluation methods is no longer to produce findings but to assist the
planning process. Patton (1998, p. 228) provides arguments: findings
have a very short half-life; they deteriorate quickly because the world
changes quickly, and specific findings often have small windows of
relevance, so what remains after evaluation is the process.
236 Henk Voogd

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Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 239

12
Environmental Impact Assessment for
Transport Infrastructure Projects

Jos Arts

1 Introduction

When President Nixon signed the National Environmental Protection

Act (NEPA) into law on 1 January 1970, the concept of Environmental
Impact Assessment (EIA) was formally established in a jurisdiction for
the first time. This signature of a law passed by the American Congress
the year before did not put an end to an intensive discussion about
environmental problems nor to the series of attempts to develop a policy
to deal with environmental issues. It did, however, mark the
implementation of an influential new tool for decision-making and
planning (see e.g. Caldwell, 1982; Sadler, 1996). Since then, the concept
of EIA has spread throughout the world, giving rise to many other forms
of impact assessment. This expansion continues. The planning of
transport infrastructure is one of the major fields where EIA is applied.
This chapter discusses the concept and development of EIA, and then
elaborates on the EIA process for transport infrastructure projects in the
240 Jos Arts

Netherlands. Finally, the chapter explores possible ways for improving

the usefulness of EIA for infrastructure planning.

2 What is EIA?

Although the idea of assessing the impact of activities on the environment

is widespread, it is difficult to find a generally accepted definition of EIA.
Many different definitions are in use, as other authors have pointed out (see
e.g., Clark, 1984; Wathern 1990; Glasson et al. 1994; Sadler, 1996).
However, the various definitions in the literature clearly relate to the
different elements of EIA. EIA can be seen as a ‘process’, a ‘procedure’
and a ‘product’. First, EIA is a process: the act of assessing environmental
impact. In most jurisdictions, the outcome of this process must be laid
down in a document, namely the Environmental Impact Statement (EIS).
That document can be viewed as the product of the EIA, as it contains a
description of environmental effects. The way this EIA process must be
done is usually laid down in a procedure. In many countries, EIA
procedures have a more or less strictly defined status of legal regulations or
guidelines. Such procedures usually prescribe, in a systematic way, the
steps that have to be taken when conducting an EIA and drawing up an
EIS. Often, they also describe the rights and duties of the different parties
involved in EIA.
It is important to distinguish clearly between the formal
procedure and the actual EIA process. The first refers to what should
happen, and the latter to what actually happens and can be done. Viewed
as a process, EIA is not just a technical, methodological activity
influenced by a formal procedure for drawing up the EIS. The EIA
process is also embedded in, and influenced by, social and political
processes. Although the EIS is often confused with EIA in practice, the
EIS is not the only product of the EIA process, and not even the most
important one (Mostert, 1995). The effect of EIA on decision-making,
project design and management is more important. In this regard,
communication and legitimisation of decisions and changing attitudes of
different parties are also relevant. Besides being an aid to formal
decision-making, EIA is also a structuring tool for the planning process,
not only in the development and design stages but also in the
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 241

implementation and management stages. Moreover, in various countries

EIA has introduced a more structured form of government environmental
and spatial planning, or is even the only tool for such planning. In the
context of this chapter, EIA is regarded as
an instrument for planning and decision-making, oriented to the
provision and evaluation of information about the environmental
effects of development proposals and decisions with the aim to improve
planning and decision-making.
The word ‘instrument’ is used here to refer to the procedure, product and
process elements of EIA.
2.1 The ‘Birth’ of EIA: NEPA

During the 1960s, the United States and other nations became
increasingly aware of the existence of significant environmental
problems. They came to realise that some of the problems were the result
of actions by the governments themselves. As Caldwell (1982) recounts,
by 1960, federal agencies – particularly those charged with
responsibilities pertaining to land use, natural resources and
transportation – were playing a crucial role in managing natural
resources. Federal agencies had become major shapers of the national
landscape. In the post-war years, there was an increase in the scale, pace
and associated repercussions of infrastructure projects and schemes such
as large dams, motorways and nuclear power plants. In addition, the
environment became a public issue (see e.g. Carson, 1962), and there
was considerable evidence that existing appraisal techniques were
inadequate (Clark, 1984). In the years before NEPA, agencies usually
approved projects by conducting a limited comparison of a project’s
objectives with their narrow mission. There was a tendency to ignore
many potential adverse environmental and other consequences. In the
planning and appraisal of projects, the focus was on technical feasibility
and economic accountability, and agencies often presented only a
proposal endorsed by a single administration, with no alternatives
(Caldwell, 1982; O’Riordan & Sewell, 1981). According to Culhane et
al. (1987, p.6): ‘Congress thus found itself presented with embarrassing
unanticipated consequences and environmental disasters’.
242 Jos Arts

These developments made many in the American Congress realise

that a comprehensive approach was needed to deal with environmental
problems, which were proving to be complex and interrelated (Wood,
1995). Therefore, during the 1960s, several proposals for a national
environmental policy were discussed in Congress. In order to achieve an
effective comprehensive policy for environmental protection, the federal
agencies would have to be fully accountable for any actions on their part
that significantly affected the quality of the environment. Therefore, an
‘action-forcing’ mechanism (Caldwell, 1982) was introduced to ensure
that the environmental policy was implemented. This mechanism
required that an Environmental Impact Statement should be drawn up for
‘major federal actions significantly affecting the quality of the human
environment’ (NEPA, section 102(2)(c)).
NEPA – and the EIS requirement in particular – have had significant
influence on planning and decision-making in the USA. In fact, its
‘progenitors’ in Congress had not foreseen the scale of impact their
‘offspring’ would have. In retrospect, NEPA fundamentally reformed
federal decision-making on resources, as it opened up the decision
processes of federal agencies to public scrutiny (see Caldwell, 1982;
Taylor, 1984; Ortolano & Shepherd, 1995). It has had important
bureaucratic and scientific consequences, not only in the USA but in
other countries too; it has received much attention and has been widely
imitated around the world.
2.2 EIA Worldwide

NEPA and the EIA process have also indirectly influenced the decision-
making process of many other political jurisdictions. In the USA, the
federal NEPA was followed by so-called ‘little NEPAs’, which were
introduced in about one-third of American states. An example is the
Californian Environmental Quality Act, which is recognised as one of
the most advanced EIA systems and is much broader in scope than
NEPA (see Wood, 1995; Bass & Herson, 1994). In the same period, EIA
was also introduced in other countries: Canada (in 1973), Australia
(1974), New Zealand (1974), West Germany (1976), France (1976), and
other member states of the European Union (Wathern, 1990; Harvey,
1998; Wood, 2003). Later, EIA systems were established in less
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 243

developed countries, although some had already introduced EIA quite

early, e.g. Colombia (1974), Thailand (1975), and the Philippines (1977).
Many less developed countries have been quick to appreciate that the
procedures are a means of introducing aspects of environmental
planning, often in the absence of any formal land-use planning system. A
particularly notable feature has been the introduction of EIA by many
developing and transition countries during the last decade. In Eastern
Europe, the desire to join the EU has influenced the decision to
implement the European EIA Directive (EC, 1997). However, EIA take-
up in lower-income countries remains incomplete. According to Sadler
(2004), some form of EIA is required in more than 100 countries and is
also used extensively by the World Bank and other international lending
and development agencies. The near universal acceptance of EIA as an
instrument of national decision-making is illustrated by Principle 17 of
the Rio Declaration on Environment and Development (UN, 1992):
‘Environmental Impact Assessment, a national instrument, shall be
undertaken for proposed activities that are likely to have a significant
adverse impact on the environment and are subject to a decision of a
competent national authority’.
Moreover, Environmental Impact Assessments have spread not
only geographically, but also in terms of their scope. This is because
NEPA’s concept of impact assessment has spawned many other types
and fields of impact assessment such as Social Impact Assessment,
Technology Assessment, Risk Assessment, Health Impact Assessment,
Biodiversity Impact Assessment, Cumulative Effect Assessment,
Climate Impact Assessment, Economic Impact Assessment, Gender
Impact Assessment, Strategic Environmental Assessment, Sustainability
Assessment, etc. Almost every letter of the alphabet has been combined
with the letters IA to denote a specific form of impact assessment. For an
overview of the many types of impact assessment, see e.g. Petts (1999),
Porter & Fittipaldi (1998), Vanclay & Bronstein (1995), Wathern (1990).
However, Environmental Impact Assessment is often used as the generic
term, especially since the notion of the environment in EIA has become
more inclusive over the years. The development of Strategic
Environmental Assessment (SEA) is perhaps the most striking
244 Jos Arts

development in the field, and has become an important planning tool in

addition to EIA over the past decade (see also Sadler, 2004).
2.3 A General Outline of EIA

EIA systems vary greatly from country to country. Several forms have
been implemented: cabinet resolutions, advisory procedures and
guidelines, mandatory regulations and acts (Hollick 1986, Lee 1995). In
some countries, EIA can be enforced by requiring an EIS before a
project is approved. In other countries, obligations are imposed on the
administering agencies, or the EIS requirement is made discretionary.

Screening
(determination of need for EIA)

Scoping
(determination of information needed, relevant issues, level of detail)

EIA Study
(alternatives, impacts, mitigation measures, evaluation (ex ante))

Reporting EIS
(results of EIA study, incl. non-technical summary)

Review
(Public consultation, advice, review quality of EIS)

Decision
(decision-making on proposal using report and opinions about it)

Follow-up
(monitoring, evaluation (ex post), management, communication)

Figure 1. Basic elements of EIA

Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 245

Elsewhere, EISs are often prepared in an ad hoc manner because they are
required by funding bodies (e.g. the World Bank) as part of the funding
approval process. Although the theoretical frameworks of EIA processes
and designs that are applied in practice differ considerably in their detail,
it is possible to discern a common denominator. Figure 1 presents the
common elements of an ‘ideal’ EIA procedure in a manner
corresponding to the way it has been depicted by many other authors
(e.g. Glasson et al., 1994; Sadler, 1996; Harvey, 1998; Wood, 2003).

The EIA process starts by determining the need for an EIA. This is
called screening. If EIA is required, the scoping stage determines which
information is necessary, the key issues, and the terms of reference for
the EIA study. Specifically, the range of the assessment study must be
determined, as well as the alternatives to be considered. It is also
necessary to decide what type of effect information is relevant and to
what level of detail, and which methods to use, etc.
Next, the EIA study commences. This is the actual investigation:
information is gathered, structured, analysed, and evaluated. Information
is collected not only about the expected impact of the proposed activity,
but also about the baseline situation. The latter, which is used as a point
of reference, is also called the ‘0 situation’ or ‘0 alternative’. The results
of the impact study are usually reported in an EIS. Generally, this covers
not only the impacts of the activity, but also the objectives, the current
situation, alternatives for the activity and their impacts, and mitigation
measures.
In the review stage, the content of the EIS is reviewed with
respect to its quality. The review often involves public participation,
consultation and/or advice by independent organisations – e.g. an EIA
Commission (see Mostert, 1995). In some jurisdictions, a draft EIS is
reviewed, after which a final EIS has to be drawn up. If the EIS is
adequate, the competent authority takes a decision on whether the
activity can proceed or not. This decision on approving the activity
should be based on the EIS and the results of consultation. In many EIA
systems, the consent decision must be substantiated.
The final stage is follow-up or ex post evaluation. During or after
implementation of the activity (a project or plan), its actual effects are
246 Jos Arts

measured. The results are compared with the impacts predicted in the
EIS and those on which the consent decision was based. EIA follow-up
may be done in order to decide whether extra mitigating or other
measures are necessary, to enhance knowledge about impact prediction,
and to improve future EIAs. Other terms frequently used to denote this
stage are monitoring and auditing, ex post evaluation, post-decision
analysis or management.
Notably, the elements of scoping and follow-up are frequently
lacking in EIA systems. This is apparent in the original EIA process laid
down in NEPA and in the European EIA Directive. The EIA regulations
and practice in the Netherlands are generally viewed as relatively
advanced in international literature (Glasson et al., 1994; Sadler, 1996;
Wood 2003); the various core elements of EIA have been laid down in
the Dutch EIA procedure (see Box 1 and Figure 2). Section 3 will
discuss the implementation of EIA for transport infrastructure
development in more detail.
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 247

Activity proposed
is EIA required?

EIA required

Proponent draws up
Notification of Intent

Competent authority makes

Notification of Intent public

Public review, advice & consultation

Advice guidelines by EIA Commission

Final Guidelines
by competent authority

Proponent prepares
Environmental Impact Statement (EIS)

Decision about acceptability of EIS by competent

authority
negative
positive

Public review, advice & consultation

Review of EIS by EIA Commission
EIS supplement
positive

Consent decision taken by

competent authority

Possibility for lodging objections Figure 1. The

Appeal to court
EIA procedure in
the Netherlands
Implementation of project by proponent
(construction, operation, decommissioning)

EIA follow-up (monitoring & evaluation) Feedback

by competent authority
248 Jos Arts

Box 1. Dutch EIA regulations

The primary aim of the Dutch EIA regulations (laid down in the Dutch
Environmental Management Act, EMA) has been defined by the legislator
as: ‘to take full account of the environmental interest at stake in the decision-
making process on a particular project or plan’ (Tweede Kamer, 1981). The
formal EIA procedure in the Netherlands (see Figure 2) can be seen as an
interplay of ‘checks and balances’ in which the various parties involved have
their own roles and responsibilities (Arts 1998). First, the proponent prepares
a ‘Notification of Intent’, which gives a broad outline of the proposed project.
This is made public and a first round of consultation, advice and public
review starts in order to determine the scope of the EIS. The EIA
Commission (a group of independent experts) issues ‘Advice with
Guidelines’ on the basis of which the competent authority prepares final
‘Guidelines for the EIS’. The competent authority is usually a municipal or
provincial government or a national Ministry (depending on the relevant
consent decision). Then the proponent prepares the EIS, in which the project
proposal and its alternatives are assessed for their impact, and potential
mitigating measures are proposed (EMA, s7.10). The law does not require
the proponent to include a (draft) programme for EIA follow-up in the EIS.
However, the guidelines issued by the competent authority usually ask for
this. Subsequently, the competent authority checks the completed EIS prior
to release for public review along with an application for the consent decision
or a draft decision. The EIA Commission evaluates the quality of the EIS and
submits a ‘Review Advice’ to the competent authority. The competent
authority is responsible for taking the ‘Consent Decision’ – to grant the
environmental permit or approve the plan. In doing so, it must consider the
EIS, the results of the public review and the advice received, and the
decision must be made public. Both the proponent and third parties may
appeal against the decision in court. Finally, the competent authority must
also provide a ‘Programme for Ex-post Evaluation’ – i.e. an EIA follow-up
programme. This indicates the terms and manner in which the competent
authority will perform the evaluation once the project commences.

2.4 Developments in EIA

To conclude this overview of the origins and evolution of the EIA

concept, it can be said that in the early period of the 1970s, EIA practice
focused on technical and methodological aspects (see also Wathern,
1990; Sadler, 1996; Wood, 2003). Government and its agencies
struggled to define the nature of an EIA and identify useful methods. In
the USA in particular, this focus on technique was stimulated by
litigation, as the risk of a lawsuit over an inadequate EIS created the
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 249

demand for guidelines. Emphasis was also placed on administrative

procedures. The first decade of experience was followed by a period of
refining EIA systems and institutions. This was manifest in the adoption
of additional elements such as scoping and monitoring, but also in the
tendency to codify hitherto discretionary competencies. Meanwhile, EISs
had become more and more lengthy. EIAs were costly in terms of time,
money and manpower, and were seen as a source of delay. Questions
therefore arose about whether this heavy instrument was effective,
efficient and delivering the promised outcomes. In the 1980s and 1990s,
the focus shifted to improving the quality of EIA by improving the
content of EISs, arranging for greater consultation and participation, and
increasing the influence of EIA in decision-making. Sadler (2004)
distinguishes three overlapping phases in the evolution of EIA:
1. Introduction and development (1970-1980) – mandate and
foundations laid down by the US NEPA 1969. The basic framework,
procedure and methodology still apply. Only limited adoption by
other countries.
2. Development and diversification (1980-1992) – scope of EIA
extended; procedural and methodological innovation; social, health
and other types of impacts given more systematic consideration;
supranational and international EIA frameworks introduced.
3. ‘Mainstreaming’ and ‘up-streaming’ (1992-2002) – take-up of EIA
by a large number of developing and transitional countries;
development of formal SEA systems; inter-sector approach,
including new aspects of EIA practice.
More recently, emphasis has been placed on integrated assessment and
sustainability assurance, which can be viewed as a new, fourth phase
(Sadler 2004; IAIA, 2002).

The concept of EIA is clearly a child of its time, being closely related to the
rational-comprehensive planning approach of the 1960s. For example, the
basic EIA process depicted in Figure 1 corresponds fairly well with the
ideal-typical planning model described by authors such as Etzioni (1967)
and Friedmann (1987, see also Chapter 2). Information has a key role in a
more rational approach to decision-making. Data are continuously
gathered, structured and appraised, i.e. evaluated. The basic, deeply
250 Jos Arts

rooted, assumption is that making more information available about the

impact of a decision, and subjecting that information to systematic
analysis, will improve the quality of decisions and planning proposals by
reducing uncertainty and preventing unforeseen consequences. This
approach has great appeal, and EIA has become a standard procedure in
the toolbox of environmental and other planners, as discussed earlier.
However, in practice, the relationship between EIA and planning and
decision-making is rather problematic.
It has been broadly acknowledged in the disciplines of planning,
policy and public administration that, in practice, planning and decision-
making are much more complex than the rather simplistic, linear model
of EIA and rational planning processes. The ‘classical’ rational-
comprehensive approach has been criticised on a number of grounds,
including comprehensiveness, quality of information, influence of
different parties, and implementation failures (see e.g. Faludi, 1973; Ike
et al., chapter 2; Woltjer, chapter 3). In relation to this, Ortolano and
Shepherd (1995, p.13) identify some ‘perennial problems in EIA
implementation’ that are important in current EIA practice (see also Sadler,
1996; Wood, 2003):
• Coverage of EIAs: scoping issues; broadening the definition of
‘environment’ in EIA – e.g. including health, gender, cultural or socio-
economic issues in EIAs; addressing cumulative effects, ecological
risks; more attention for international aspects of environmental issues
and transboundary effects (see UNECE, 1991).
• Quality of assessments and EIA reports: methodological issues such as
the use of Geographical Information Systems (GIS); presentation of
information in EISs; handling uncertainty, subjectivity and bias, and
improving quality control or the review process.
• Integrating EIA in decision-making: harmonisation of procedures and
processes to enhance effectiveness and efficiency of EIA. This is
especially relevant in countries with extensive, refined systems for
government planning and intervention, such as the Netherlands, where
EIA functions mainly as an add-on, auxiliary procedure for sound
decision-making (see e.g. ECW, 1996). In addition, often EIA is carried
out late – and only once – in the planning process, which is itself cyclic
and iterative in nature. Integration also includes the use of EIA not as a
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 251

defensive, re-active instrument for investigating the environmental

effects of an existing planning proposal, but as a pro-active instrument
during the design and development stages. EIAs are often not carefully
integrated into planning and policy-making, giving cause to their use as
ex post facto rationalisation. Finally, integration involves the use of
EIA as an instrument for environmental management (see e.g. Holling,
1978).
• Public participation in EIA: communication, participation and
consultation are often inadequate. Greater emphasis on the relative
roles of participants, the use of mediation procedures and dispute
resolution, the role of EIA in consensus-building and solving NIMBY
problems, enhancing the credibility and neutrality of EIA and the
planning process.
• Strategic Environmental Assessment: EIA is carried out primarily for
projects at the operational level. However, there is recognition that
some form of EIA for plans, policies and programmes is necessary
because the environmental impact of important decisions is often not
systematically assessed (see Sadler & Verheem, 1996; Therivel &
Rosario Partidario, 1996; Therivel et al., 1992).
• EIA follow-up: post-project monitoring and evaluation is rarely
conducted. However, it is necessary to extend EIA beyond the decision
(Morrison-Saunders & Arts, 2004; Au & Sanvicens, 1996; Glasson,
1994). This includes monitoring and auditing of actual impact, and the
enforcement of mitigation measures in order to facilitate learning from
experience. This is useful for individual projects as well as for the
evaluation of EIA systems.
• EIA and sustainable development: incorporating sustainability goals
and principles. EIA as a tool for environmental management geared
towards sustainable development (Sadler, 2004; IAIA, 2002).

3 EIA for Transport Infrastructure Projects

The development of transport infrastructure has considerable impact on the

environment as well as on the spatial quality of the area in which it takes
place. Choices about location or routing are often irreversible and imply
major environmental consequences because the use and function of a
252 Jos Arts

particular area will change. Once a highway has been constructed at a

particular location, this intervention cannot easily be changed. Moreover,
the construction will result in a fundamental loss of habitat. The
enlargement or reconstruction of existing infrastructure, as well as traffic
management projects, may also have important environmental and spatial
consequences. Higher volumes of traffic may cause noise and air
pollution, and impact on safety and health, but may also affect the spatial
development potential of the regions involved – for example for housing,
work, recreation, water and nature management. A claim on scarce space
resources by transport infrastructure will directly affect other spatial
functions, and vice versa. This is especially true for highly urbanised and
densely populated countries such as the Netherlands.
As a consequence, the planning of road, railway or waterway
development projects is usually a protracted, comprehensive and
complex process. In the Netherlands, the planning and realisation of
infrastructure may take up to 20 years or more. Since infrastructure
projects can have a considerable impact, many parties and interests are
involved in the planning process, and many decisions have to be taken
before a road can actually be built.
The nature of transport infrastructure projects means that EIA is a
very useful but also very complex exercise. Such projects are therefore
subject to EIA in most jurisdictions, and they are an important part of
EIA practice. For example, transport infrastructure projects account for
15-20% of all EIA projects in the Netherlands (see Arts, 1998).
Moreover, in the past, environmental problems in infrastructure planning
have been instrumental for the development of both EIA and SEA (see
e.g. OECD, 1994; EC, 1999; Fischer, 2002). This section discusses how
EIA can be conducted for road-development projects, and identifies the
main issues involved. This will be done by discussing the steps
introduced in Section 2 (see Figure 1) and experiences from Dutch road
planning practice.
3.1 Screening and Scoping

The EIA process begins by establishing the need for an EIA. This is
usually called screening. Two basic approaches to screening can be
distinguished. The first is a case-by-case approach following a procedure
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 253

in which the characteristics of the proposed project or plan are assessed.

This involves comparing the plan/project proposal with a set of criteria
and/or a definition of major actions. Often, this approach involves a
preliminary assessment of the activity in order to decide whether a ‘full’
EIA is needed. Such an approach is adopted in the USA. In the second
approach to screening, (positive) lists are used to identify activities that
require an EIA due to their nature, scale, location and/or likely
consequences (thresholds). In practice, most EIA systems adopt a hybrid
approach. The EIA Directive of the EU (EC, 1997), for example, lists a
limited number of projects for which EIA is compulsory (Annex I). It
contains another list of projects for which EIA is not mandatory but
discretionary (Annex II). Annex III contains screening criteria for the
latter category. Screening is usually carried out by the developer, often in
conjunction with the competent authority. Other parties may also be
involved, but it is less common for the public or non-governmental
bodies to be involved (see also Morgan, 1998; Jones, 1999).
Under the Dutch Environmental Management Act, EIA is
mandatory for ‘crucial’ decisions. A decision is regarded as crucial if it
excludes one or more essential alternatives, if it results in one or more
obligations or commitments that are decisive for the continuation of the
project, and if it determines the subsequent decision-making. Such
decisions are listed in Annex C of the Dutch EIA Decree, a positive list
that defines the EIA requirement. With regard to the planning of road,
water or rail infrastructure that is part of the national infrastructure
network (for which the Ministry of Transport is responsible) the EIA
Decree defines a crucial decision as the determination of the route of the
project under the Dutch Infrastructure (Planning Procedures) Act. In
addition, to newly built infrastructure the extension or reconstruction of
national roads, railways and waterways is usually subject to a route
determination and EIA procedure because of the significant
environmental impact involved. The EIA Decree defines thresholds for
this type of extension and reconstruction, but these are usually exceeded
(see also Box 2).
Therefore, an EIA is required for the Route Decision for most
national infrastructure projects under the Dutch Infrastructure Act. This is
done by means of the Route Plan/EIS. In the early stages, important
254 Jos Arts

decisions are made which may ultimately have a considerable impact on

the environment. These decisions relate to the definition of transport and
traffic policy goals, the status of infrastructure connections, the choice
between modalities (modal split), and relationships with other
developments in the area, etc. (see Figure 3). These decisions, which are
laid down in national policy plans for transport and traffic and in so-called
‘reconnaissance studies’ (explorative studies see Arts & Van Lamoen,
2004), do not require an EIA. However, once the EU SEA Directive (EC,
2001) has been implemented in the Netherlands, an SEA will be required
for national policy plans on transport and traffic. This means that the way
in which infrastructure projects are defined will also be subject to a more
formal and global environmental assessment.

Box 2. EIA requirement for regional and local infrastructure

With regard to regional and local infrastructure projects, the EIA is prepared for
‘the first physical plan (under the Physical Planning Act) that provides for the
construction of the project’. An EIA is usually not required for smaller regional and
local projects – listed in Annex D of the EIA Decree. There is no need for an EIA
unless the competent authority decides that special circumstances exist which
require one – a ‘dormant’ EIA stipulation. In such cases, a screening procedure
determines whether an EIA is needed. The screening criteria are: characteristics
of the activity (complexity), location of the activity (sensitive areas), relationship
with other activities (cumulative impacts), and the characteristics of negative
impact. These criteria correspond to the criteria indicated in the EU EIA Directive.

The scoping stage is closely related to the screening stage. If it has been
decided that an EIA is required for an infrastructure project, it must then
be determined how the EIA will be done. The scoping step (i.e. defining
the scope) is crucial for determining the precise nature of the project, the
problem, its objectives and the issues relevant to the EIA study. The
guiding principles might be ‘well begun is half done’ and ‘look before
you leap’. Apart from such general notions, the significance of scoping is
also underlined by the criticism of EIA frequently heard in Dutch
practice and elsewhere: EIAs are all too often too cumbersome, too
lengthy, too detailed and not sufficiently focused on the problem and
decision at hand (see e.g. VROM, 2003; Arts, 1998). In order to tailor
the EIA study to the project, its objectives and the problem, the
following questions must be addressed in the scoping step: Which
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 255

alternatives are relevant? Which environmental and other impacts have

to be assessed? How detailed should the study be? Which methods are
available? What is the best way to present this information in the EIS?
As one might expect, all these elements are closely related; they all focus
on the central question: What information is relevant to the decision-
making?
For scoping often use is made of checklists and matrices (e.g. the
well-known Leopold Matrix; Leopold et al., 1971), previous professional
experience, and comparison with analogous actions. Consultation of the
various parties involved is an essential part of scoping, as is the final
determination of the scope of EIA by the competent authority (Wood,
2003; Jones, 1999).
Because the scoping step is so important, it is the first step in the
Dutch EIA procedure: the proponent has to prepare a notification of
intent that provides information about the nature of the proposed project.
Subsequently, other government parties, the public and the independent
EIA Commission give their opinion with regard to scope (see also Figure
2). Since the competent authority (i.e. the Minister for Transport and the
Minister for the Environment for national infrastructure projects) must
take the consent decision, it specifies the scope of the EIA study in the
guidelines. In this regard, three main questions seem to be relevant to
scoping:
• What is needed for decision-making?
For example, the main decision involves determining a route, so
relevant information helps to distinguish between various alternatives
(distinctive alternatives and impact information).
• What is required by regulations / policy?
For example, the Dutch Infrastructure Act requires that routes are
drawn to scale 1:10.000 in the Route Plan/EIS. Environmental
information should therefore reflect this level of detail.
• What are major project-specific issues?
For example, the project has a long history during which certain
alternatives proved to be too politically sensitive to leave out of or to
consider in the EIA study.
256 Jos Arts

Of course, the nature of the infrastructure project is of major importance.

What is the modality of the project (road, railway, waterway or multi-
modal)? Is a completely new route being considered? Is the focus on
extending the infrastructure (e.g. extra lanes), or only on intensifying the
use of existing infrastructure (e.g. use of the hard shoulder during rush
hours, or traffic management measures)? See also Figure 3.
The planning process can be regarded as a funnel, starting with a
wide range of ideas that are narrowed down to one solution that is
developed in a detailed design, including construction specifications,
costing and a schedule (see also Arts, 1998). Even before the EIA
procedure starts, many decisions have already been made about the
objectives and general outline of the project. In the following stage of
planning – the EIA – several alternative locations or routes are compared
and a choice is made. The level of information in the EIS, however, is
usually still quite general in the Netherlands, because the site layout and
construction plans are worked out in more detail in the subsequent
design and building stages. Therefore, when the EIS has been completed,
many more decisions usually have to be made before the project can be
realised, and those decisions can have serious environmental
consequences. Road-development planning is a cyclic, iterative process
during which the project becomes ever-more clearly defined. The range of
alternatives becomes narrower and information on impact and other issues
becomes more detailed. This trade-off is very important for determining
the scope of an EIA (see Figure 3).
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 257

strategic
choices

determination policy goals (e.g. congestion)

+
designation of main ports / main connections

modal split
room left for alternatives

route determination

road (re)construction / enlargement

intensifying use existing infra / traffic management

determination of manner of construction

determination of maintance
_
operational
choices
_ +
availability of impact information
Source: after Niekerk & Arts (1996)
Figure 3. Scoping for infrastructure projects. The relationship between the
room for alternatives and the availability of impact information.

3.2 Alternatives, Impact and Remedial Measures

Two main ingredients of an impact assessment are important prerequisites

for sound decision-making: first, all the essential alternatives must be
considered and, second, sufficient information must be available about the
impact of each alternative. In this regard, the planning level is important
(see also Figure 3):
• strategic level (‘What?’)
• location / route level (‘Where?’)
• operational level (‘How?’).

In principle, EIAs for infrastructure plans involve the locational and

operational level in the Netherlands (see Box 3). The combined Route
258 Jos Arts

Plan/EIS must consider where the road, railway, waterway is to be

constructed and how its design will look (i.e. the spatial layout, how the
road fits into the landscape). As stated above, however, the nature of the
infrastructure project is important here. If a completely new road is to be
constructed, the issue of location is far more important than for a project
involving only the construction of extra lanes. In the latter case, the
location is a given. In the first case, it is still possible to choose between
different locations. In this regard, we should mention that today’s Dutch
road building projects seldom involve the construction of a new road, but
usually the extension of an existing road, or the introduction of measures
to intensify the use of an existing road (e.g. traffic management measures).

Box 3. The central role of the Route Decision

The Route Decision – for which the Route Plan/EIS is prepared – holds a
central place in Dutch planning for transport infrastructure. It determines the
final location or route, and it is legally binding upon national government,
provinces, municipalities and individuals with respect to land use. On the basis
of the Route Decision, land may even be compulsorily purchased and houses
demolished. Subsequently, only limited decision-making takes place because
decision-making on the major highways, railways and waterways is seen as a
matter of national interest for which the Minister for Transport, Public Works
and Water Management, and the Minister for Housing, Spatial Planning and the
Environment are responsible.
As a consequence, the usual decision-making on spatial plans by provincial
and municipal authorities is replaced by co-ordinated decision-making at the
national level. This is in contrast to Dutch spatial planning, which is traditionally
a decentralised form of planning in which the local land-use plan plays a key
role because it is the only plan that is legally binding upon individuals. As a
consequence, the crucial Route Decision requires an extensive procedure
whereby the Ministry of Transport, Public Works and Water Management has
to carry out a broad impact assessment, and in which there is intensive
consultation with regional and local authorities and other parties. This is
especially true because road development projects tend to involve NIMBY
problems – they are desirable at the national level (for transport, socio-
economic policies reasons), but unwanted at the local level due to local
negative impacts. In a densely populated country, it is inevitable that someone,
somewhere will have to bear the burden of the planned road. It is very
important for the Ministry of Transport to thoroughly consider the possibilities
for preventing and mitigating impacts. According to the ‘polder model’, this is
usually done in close consultation with local residents (see also chapter 3).
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 259

At the strategic and operational levels there is tension between the

alternatives which merit consideration and the related impact
information that is likely to be available. Clearly, at the strategic level,
there is considerable room for manoeuvre, because choices still have to
be made about strategic, locational and operational aspects. On the other
hand, there is scant factual information available about impact because
there are still many uncertainties surrounding the development of the
planning proposal. At the operational level, the opposite is the case.
There is much factual and detailed impact information available that
often relates to the specific area of the project. The effects occur mainly
on a regional and local scale. However, the scope for alternatives is
limited because several important decisions have already been made (see
Figure 4 and Box 4).

strategic

operational a b c d

= impact assessment
= room for decision-making

Source: after Niekerk & Arts (1996)

Figure 4. Incorporating impact assessment into the planning process
260 Jos Arts

Box 4. Tension between the scope for alternatives and information about impacts
The question is how to deal with this tension. Generally speaking, impact
assessments should be incorporated into the stages of the planning process at
which alternatives are still available. Both the failure to consider relevant
alternatives (see Figure 4 A) and the consideration of unrealistic, redundant
alternatives must be avoided (Figure 4 B), although both situations often occur.
For example, a study carried out for the HSL-Zuid in the Netherlands (a high-
speed train connection between Amsterdam and Brussels) had to be repeated
because a number of relevant alternatives had not been considered. This was
a costly operation. On the other hand, a detailed elaboration of, for example, a
public-transport alternative for a study of the route determination for a
motorway (common practice for road project EIAs in the early 1990s in the
Netherlands) can result in redundant information because the proponent of the
motorway has little power to influence decisions on public transport. A more
appropriate situation is presented in Figure 4 C, in which the alternatives and
impact assessment correspond with the scope for decision-making. However,
carrying out only one EIA in the planning process may overload the EIS. Since
only one EIA is carried out in the Netherlands for infrastructure planning, the
EIAs for road projects are often too cumbersome, especially as the EIAs for
infrastructure plans relate to both the locational and the operational level (i.e.
the ‘where’ and ‘how’). Actually, a Route Plan/EIS has to consider the ‘where’
and ‘how’ questions simultaneously. Therefore, the situation depicted in Figure
4 D might be the more appropriate situation because the different nature of the
impact analysis corresponds to the scope for decision-making at that stage of
the planning process. It would be very useful to have a form of impact
assessment at the strategic/locational level and the operational level that better
accommodates EIA to the continuous, cyclic and iterative nature of decision-
making and design processes.

As Jones (1999) states, the scope for alternatives is closely related to the
defined problem (need) and objectives (purpose) of a project. Only
alternatives that fulfil the need and purpose should be studied in the EIA.
‘Need’ can be seen as the first filter, allowing for the consideration of all
possible alternatives. ‘Purpose’ is the filter through which only the
reasonable alternatives pass.
For infrastructure projects, various alternatives might be relevant
to the EIA, including the following (see also Text Box 5 and Figure 5):
• 0 alternative: ‘no action alternative’ (i.e. current situation +
autonomous development). This information about the baseline
situation is used as a point of reference and must always be included
in an EIA (in the Netherlands and in most EIA systems). Depending
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 261

on the scope of the problem and goals defined, this might be a real
alternative or simply a reference.
• AMFE alternative: the alternative most favourable to the environment.
The requirement to include the AMFE alternative is a specific
provision of Dutch EIA regulations, and one of the reasons why the
Dutch system is generally seen as strong.
• Preference alternative: the alternative that is initially proposed by the
proponent in the notification of intent (project proposal).
• Modality alternatives: alternatives relating to the various modalities
(car, train, ship). These might be relevant in, for example, corridor
studies focusing on the general traffic and transport relationship
between location A and B. This relates to the ‘what’ question.
• Location/Route alternative(s): alternative locations for road
infrastructure and routes; alignment alternatives. This may also relate
to the options of aligning a road either above or below ground (‘three-
dimensional’ alternatives). This relates to the ‘where’ question.
• Construction alternative(s): more detailed alternatives relating to the
construction of crossings (bridges, viaducts, tunnels) and connections
with other infrastructure, and/or alternatives for incorporating the road
into the landscape (landscaping, spatial layout). This relates to the
‘how’ question.
• Other alternative(s): for example, alternatives focusing on other
solutions or partial solutions such as public transport, more intensive
use of existing roads/traffic management measures. The latter is quite
common in recent EIAs for road projects.
262 Jos Arts

P ref.-alt. ro o m fo
r a lt e rn a ti
v e s in E
IA
impacts on transport & traffic

alt.-1
AMFE-alt.

alt. -2
alt. -3
Explanation:
pref.alt. = preferential alternative
o-alt. =zero -alternative (current situation
+ autonomous development)
AMFE = Alternative Most Friendly to the
Environment
0-alt.
_

_ +
impacts on environment

Figure 5. Relationship between alternatives and the dimensions

of environment and transport

Box 5: Sufficient scope for decision-making

As stated earlier, there must be genuine alternatives (room for manoeuvre),
and the consequences of each alternative must be reasonably clear. It is
important to investigate at least the ‘extreme’ alternatives in order to investigate
fully the scope for decision-making, to develop new and creative solutions, and
to facilitate the adequate appraisal of the proposal’s environmental impact. This
is why Dutch legislation requires that these ‘extreme’ alternatives must be
investigated in addition to the preference alternative, the 0-alternative and the
AMFE. Figure 5 depicts how these alternatives relate to each other from the
perspective of impact on the environment (environmental objectives) and
impact on infrastructure (infrastructure policy objectives). The alternatives,
which are relevant to the EIA, are located on the dotted line (see Figure 5).
Also, the individual alternatives must be sufficiently distinct in order to be useful
in decision-making. The policy context will dictate whether the 0-alternative is a
real alternative, or only a reference framework for appraising the project. The
room for manoeuvre in decision-making (i.e. is the length of the dotted line in
Figure 5) depends mainly on the problem and the goals of the project.

The main reason for the obligation to prepare an EIS for the Route
Decision is that the decision regarding the route or alignment of a road,
railway or waterway is crucial to the environment. The choice of route
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 263

will have environmental impacts that are fundamental and irreversible. As

stated above, once the infrastructure is constructed, it cannot be easily
changed. Once the infrastructure is in place, it will only be possible to take
mitigating or compensating measures. Other aspects are also relevant in
addition to the irreversible spatial and environmental impacts caused by
the physical presence of a road. These include impacts caused by the
construction, use and management of the road (see Box 6). Numerous
books have been written on assessing environmental impact and
environmental monitoring (see e.g. Petts, 1999; Morgan, 1998; Canter,
1996; Green, 1979).

Box 6. Relevant impacts of road projects

In general, the following forms of impact are usually discussed in EIA studies for
road projects in the Netherlands:
• nature and landscape – flora, fauna, soil, water, landscape.
This relates especially to impact on habitats and species indicated in the EU
Habitat/Birds Directives. In addition, impact on archaeology (under the Treaty
of Valetta, Malta) and on water (under the EU Water Framework Directive)
are now receiving more attention
• impacts on living conditions – noise, air, health, community, safety.
This relates especially to impact on noise (within the meaning of strict
national and EU regulations) and air (within the meaning of the EU Air
Quality Directive). In addition, much attention is devoted to external safety,
which is a politically sensitive issue in the Netherlands. Finally, the impact of
traffic on human health has received more attention recently
• sustainable construction – energy, materials, waste
• traffic and transport – road capacity, traffic circulation, traffic safety
• economic – accessibility, national vs. regional/local economic growth
• spatial – barrier impacts, spatial development potential
• costs – cost of construction versus cost of maintenance.

In addition to such environmental impacts, road construction projects may

have other impacts relating to issues such as traffic, regional economic,
social and spatial issues. Of course, traffic issues are usually the reason for
the road development project, and the impact on such issues as road
capacity, circulation, or traffic safety must be thoroughly investigated (see
also chapter 13). Most of these issues form the preconditions for the
technical design to be developed by the traffic engineers at Rijkswaterstaat
(Directorate General of Public Works and Water Management).
264 Jos Arts

Furthermore, road development projects are often initiated to stimulate

economic developments – economic impacts. For example, Dutch national
spatial and transport policy states that the port of Rotterdam is a
‘mainport’ of strategic importance, and that the corridors from the
Randstad – the conurbation that is the economic heart of the Netherlands –
to the German and Belgian hinterland are of central importance to the
economy of the Netherlands (see e.g. V&W, 1990). On a more regional
scale, road projects are often also considered vital to the economic
development of areas where the roads are or will be situated. This may
relate, for example, to the development of a new industrial estate and the
connection to and the capacity of the regional highway network. Because
the socio-economic benefits of infrastructure projects are often heavily
debated, the Dutch government has introduced the ‘OEEI methodology’
(V&W and EZ, 2000; see also De Jong & Geerlings, 2003), whereby
socio-economic costs and benefits are assessed using infrastructure-
specific cost-benefit analysis.
In a similar way, other developments planned in the area may be
relevant for a road development project. Examples of spatial impacts
include the consequences of a road for the development of a residential
area, a business area, or shopping or recreational facilities. Such spatial
impacts may relate to spatial development projects that are already
planned, but may also relate to the potential of an area for spatial
development, i.e. the capacity of an area to realise new spatial functions
such as housing, working, recreation and nature. Moreover, infrastructure
competes with other functions such as housing, working, recreation and
nature for the same limited amount of space.
In addition to the physical impact and interactions described above,
road projects may impact on the existing spatial quality of an area. For
example, the construction of a road may cause ‘barrier impacts’ by
fragmenting an existing housing, industrial or recreation area. Related to
this are the social impacts of road projects on the liveability (quality of
life) for the community in the area concerned. The Dutch Ministry of
Transport has developed specific methods, such as ‘Citizens Value
Assessment’ for assessing these impacts (Stolp et al., 2002).
The many impacts of road development projects seem to be related to
the function of transport infrastructure. This relates not only to the
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 265

connecting of regions and activities, but also to the structuring of the

physical environment, that is, determining where other activities (housing,
working and recreation) will be located. In the Netherlands, this
structuring function is becoming increasingly important in road planning
(see Box 7).

Box 7. Negative impact and positive opportunities

To summarise, road projects can have a considerable impact on the
environmental and spatial quality of the area concerned. Usually, EISs for roads,
railways and waterways focus on the adverse effects that the project will have in
terms of noise nuisance, air pollution, soil and water quality, and on flora, fauna,
and landscape ecology. In order to ‘soften’ these effects, possible mitigation and
compensation measures have to be identified in the EIS.
Positive effects of the project usually relate to traffic, transport and the
economy. However, an EIS usually pays less attention to (positive) opportunities
regarding the economic and spatial development potential of the region in terms
of housing, work and recreation. These ‘desired’ effects, which are sometimes
closely related to the objective of the project, are often insufficiently
substantiated, being based on expectations rather than on predictions (Niekerk &
Arts, 1996). Opportunities may also relate to the environment. In some cases, a
road project may allow for remedial measures for certain forms of environmental
impact caused by the existing road. This is especially the case in reconstruction
projects (expansion).

In addition to the alternatives and impacts, the proponent must also

consider in an EIS the measures to remedy or limit the negative impact of
each alternative. From an environmental perspective, there is a clear order
of priority for remedial measures: prevention is better than mitigation,
which is better than compensation.
As a consequence, the EIA study should first carefully analyse
whether negative impact can be prevented. This relates in the first place to
the requirement to consider whether the alternative is sensible – does it
help to solve the traffic and transport problem? Will it not have a
devastating environmental impact? Could a solution be found in public
transport or another type of infrastructure? In the second place, a well-
considered choice for the infrastructure route or alignment can prevent
much of the negative environmental impact. For this reason, one of the
most important issues is ‘where’ the road is constructed. In addition, much
266 Jos Arts

of the impact can be prevented by careful consideration of environmental

issues at the design stage (see Section 5).
Often, however, there will still be a considerable negative impact on
the environment. The EIS therefore explores the possibilities for
mitigating that impact, for example by using a more porous type of asphalt
or constructing noise barriers to reduce noise. Another example is the use
of sewage systems to protect vulnerable natural habitats from
contaminated run-off water, or the construction of small tunnels under
roads to mitigate the fragmentation of habitat for certain species (e.g.
badgers, deer). The impact of pollution and risk relating to emissions (air,
noise, safety) can be mitigated by increasing the distance between the road
and vulnerable areas. Mitigation is especially important because road
development projects involve NIMBY issues. The planned road will
always impose a burden somewhere. As a consequence, it is very
important to consider the possibilities for impact mitigation, preferably in
close consultation with the parties affected. For this purpose, the Dutch
Ministry of Transport often uses open planning-process tools (see also
Chapter 3).
However, sometimes it will not possible to mitigate all negative
impact. In such cases, compensation may be relevant. In particular,
impact relating to the site of the road, where a loss of habitat will occur,
might require compensation. There are two main forms of compensation:
compensation in kind (e.g. new trees planted elsewhere) and financial
compensation (e.g. compensation paid to a person for loss of property, or
money donated to a nature fund to compensate for the loss of woodland).
In Dutch nature policy, the first type of compensation is preferred to the
second. In the Netherlands, compensation for the loss of habitat and the
fragmentation of valuable natural habitats is an issue in road projects.
The major impetus for this has been the EU Habitat and Bird Directives,
which require compensation if habitat loss cannot be prevented for major
social reasons.
3.3 Comparison of Alternatives, Decision-making

When the alternatives and their impacts have been assessed, and
remedial measures specified, the EIS can be finalised. The information
must be summarised and structured in order to help the decision-maker.
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 267

There is (too) much diverse information, which must be reduced to

manageable proportions. An overview is therefore produced whereby the
alternatives are compared for the various forms of impact. To this end,
various methods are used, such as: Cost Benefit Analysis, Multi-Criteria
Analysis, Score Card Methods (for an overview, see e.g. Morgan, 1998;
Voogd, 1995; Financiën, 1992; see also Chapter 11). An important
requirement is that the methods are objective, transparent and
reproducible. In such a structuring exercise, some of the information will
inevitably be lost, and subjective elements will be introduced for
classifying the original impact information. In Dutch EISs for
infrastructure projects, multi-criteria analysis is frequently used to
present a table showing the impacts of each alternative. More recently
(social) cost-benefit analysis – the OEEI method – is used to present the
decision-maker and politicians with an overview of the costs and
benefits of road, railway and waterway projects (De Jong & Geerlings,
2003).
When the EIS has been finalised, it is made public and is subject to
public review and consultation. A special feature of the Dutch EIA
system is that the independent EIA Commission reviews the quality of
the EIS – the ‘review advice’ (see also Box 1 and Figure 2). After this
round of public consultation and advice, an alternative can be chosen.
For national road projects in the Netherlands, this decision is taken by
the Minister for Transport and the Minister for the Environment. This
decision – also known as the ‘standpoint’ – must be substantiated by
references to the EIS. Subsequently, the chosen alternative is elaborated
in a Draft Route Decision. At this stage, not only the design and the
spatial layout of the chosen alternative are elaborated, but environmental
aspects are also studied in more detail – especially the surface area
involved in building the road, noise prevention, road landscaping, and
nature compensation. When this has been done, the ministers take the
final Route Decision.
3.4 EIA Follow-up: Post-decision Monitoring and Evaluation

As stated above, road projects can have a huge impact on the environment.
Therefore, when plans have been made, decisions have been taken and
contracts are being drawn up with construction companies, we should
268 Jos Arts

look again at the predicted effects on the environment. How do we know

that the outcomes of our calculations and models will appear in the real
world? What do we want to know? And what do we need to know? In
addition, the effectiveness of mitigation and compensation may be very
relevant to monitoring and evaluation in the post-decision stages. EIA
follow-up (post-decision monitoring and evaluation) can be defined as:
‘the monitoring and evaluation of the impacts of a project or plan (that
has been subject to EIA) for management of, and communication about,
the environmental performance of that project or plan’ (See Morrison-
Saunders & Arts, 2004; Arts et al., 2001).
On the one hand, the complex and comprehensive nature of planning
infrastructure projects makes EIA follow-up a fairly difficult task. On the
other hand, EIA follow-up can be a useful instrument for dealing with the
complexity and uncertainty in the planning of such projects. Given the
continuous nature of the planning process for infrastructure projects, a
single EIA for determining the route of the road can provide only a
snapshot of the environmental impact of the activity (Glasson, 1994). EIA
follow-up can provide information about environmental impacts for
subsequent decision-making and implementation of the project – which
may be considered as an ‘evaluative design’ process (see also Arts, 1998
and Figure 6). Another function of EIA follow-up for road development
projects is to check whether subsequent decision-making in the design and
construction phases conforms to the project plan. This may be seen as a
kind of early warning system of monitoring and evaluation, allowing for
location aspects to be modified before irreversible decisions are taken.
Although the rationale for EIA follow-up is quite clear, its practice is
rather limited, although it is growing (see Morrison-Saunders & Arts,
2004). This is also true for the Netherlands, despite strict regulations for
EIA follow-up. This somewhat cumbersome practice seems to relate to a
perceived imbalance between the usefulness of, and work involved in,
follow-up. As a result, much attention is devoted to minimising the effort
required by, for example, careful scoping of EIA follow-up issues,
linking these as far as possible to existing procedures and working
structures (e.g. by incorporating follow-up into existing management and
maintenance programmes and environmental management systems). For
more information on EIA follow-up, see Morrison-Saunders & Arts
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 269

(2004), Morrison Saunders et al. (2003), for EIA follow-up in the

Netherlands, see Arts (1998).

4 An Evaluation: the Strengths and Weaknesses of EIA

Carrying out EIA in practice for infrastructure projects reveals various

strengths and advantages. The basic idea underlying the Dutch EIA
procedure is one of checks and balances between different parties. In this
process, EIA serves as an aid to decision-making:
• it provides a structured process
• it raises the environmental awareness of the developer who plans and
designs the road, railway or waterway
• it draws attention to the various interests involved (environmental
interests as well as spatial, social and economic interests)
• it involves public participation
• it provides legal protection for interests that may be affected (it
functions as a safeguard)
• it streamlines the decision-making process.

However, it is difficult to conclude that the application of EIA always

results in better projects. It is difficult to attribute improved, more
environmentally sound decision-making and project planning simply to
EIA (see e.g. Ten Heuvelhof & Nauta, 1997). One possible reason is the
‘shadow-effect’: because proponents know that they will have to carry
out EIA, they will not propose unsound projects. As a consequence, the
projects that are proposed seem to be improved only marginally by EIA.
It is felt that there is room for improvement in terms of the
influence that environmental and spatial interests have on the final
design of road projects. The weaknesses of EIA for infrastructure
projects relate to such issues as:
• EIA assumes a linear approach to a planning and decision-making
process that is far more cyclic and iterative (see Figure 6 and Box 8)
• the difficulties in scoping alternatives and effects, resulting in lengthy
EISs and information overload that is counterproductive
• the lengthy process for EIA and planning infrastructure projects
contrasts with the highly dynamic context in which it takes place. One
270 Jos Arts

could think of political change, new legislation by the EU and other

bodies, new policies and other developments. As a consequence, EISs
and the related project plans can quickly become outdated
• the difficulties of incorporating EIA in the design process for road
projects
• the focus on appraisal of negative impacts rather than on project
development and the exploitation of positive opportunities
• the limited use of EIA in decision-making.

decision-making / planning practice generic EIA procedure

(iterative & cyclic approach, spirally process) (rational, linear approach, stepwise process)
strategic
level defining problem/objectives

development of alternatives

scoping
scoping

assessment of impacts

remedial measures

comparison alternatives
tension
reporting/ review
feed
back

pre-decision consent decision

post-decision
feedback

construction / operation

follow-up
operational
level
Figure 6. Cyclic and iterative decision-making and planning vs.
the linear, classic approach of EIA
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 271

Box 8: Tension between EIA and planning practice

In the classical rational approach to planning that EIA implicitly assumes, the
planning process is considered as a rather linear, straightforward process of
clearly defined steps, which are usually laid down in regulations or procedures
(Figure 1) and are followed by experts. Central to the process are objectifying,
quantitative data, structured analysis and scientific methods as well as minimising
negative impacts and optimising the development proposal in order to come to a
well-considered decision (see also Section 2). In practice, however, the picture is
blurred. The planning, design and decision-making process is seen as a dynamic
process in which information flows create feedback and allow for adjustment. A
project’s design and plan are developed in a cyclic, iterative process in which
discussions with a variety of parties about normative, subjective arguments (non-
scientific, non-rational considerations and information) play an important role and
the development of alternatives alternates with impact assessment. Plans and
projects are developed and decided on by many parties, and ‘informal’ and even
implicit decisions are often crucial. Moreover, in this cyclic process, solutions may
well precede problems and operational issues may precede strategic issues. The
dynamic context in which planning and decision-making occurs is also
characterised by changes in the physical environment of the area, political
priorities, regulations, policies, societal views, scientific knowledge. During this
process, the scope of the project will become more clearly defined with a view to
achieving a satisfactory outcome (consensus) for most or preferably all of the
parties involved. Understood in this way, planning is not only a fact-finding and
learning process, but also a process of bargaining and negotiation (‘negotiated
knowledge’), and a process of persuasion and will-shaping (see e.g. Deelstra et
al., 2003; De Bruijn & Ten Heuvelhof, 2002; Woltjer, 2000, and this volume). By
better integrating EIA with iterative, cyclic planning through an ‘evaluative design’
approach, it may also become more useful as a pro-active planning tool for project
development instead of being primarily a tool for project appraisal (see Section 5).

5 Future Directions of EIA for Transport Planning

Although EIA in the Netherlands can be considered as a rather successful

instrument (see e.g. Sadler, 1996; Wood, 2003), it is also subject to quite
a lot of criticism (see e.g. VROM, 2003; Ten Heuvelhof & Nauta, 1997).
As a consequence, there seems to be room for further improvement in
terms of its:
272 Jos Arts

• Effectiveness – usefulness for developing and designing projects, and

related decision-making. EIA is oriented towards appraising project
proposals (re-active), not to the development of such projects (pro-
active). It focuses mainly on the prevention and mitigation of
negative impact, and far less on exploiting positive opportunities
(improving project design, spatial and environmental quality) – see
Box 8 and Figure 6.
• Efficiency – the amount of time, money and manpower needed to
assess the impact of each alternative. A common criticism of EIA is
that the essential decisions on the scope of a project are made before
the study is carried out, which means that EIA is no more than a
post-rationalisation exercise. Moreover, the problem and objectives
of road projects are often not clearly defined before the EIA study
begins. This requires better scoping of the problem, objectives,
alternatives and relevant impact at an early planning stage
• Quality – the inclusion of other aspects (such as spatial, economic,
social issues), of the stages before and after the EIS, of other
developments in the area where the project is planned, and of
interests other than transport and traffic. This means better
integration of time, space and interests.

The way forward might best be summarised as better integration and co-
ordination. The need for more integrated impact assessments in Dutch
EIA practice for infrastructure planning seems to be related to various
contexts: content, process, time, space and interests. As a consequence,
five avenues for improvement can be distinguished: (1) content
integration, (2) process integration, (3) temporal integration, (4) spatial
integration, and (5) integration of interests. All of these may be
important in improving the quality and relevance of impact assessments
for planning and decision-making.
5.1 Content Integration

Originally, EIA in the Netherlands and many other countries focused on

environmental issues. Since the report ‘Our Common Future’ (the
‘Brundtland Report’, WCED, 1987), the concept of sustainable
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 273

development has taken a central place in policy-making and decision-

making in the Netherlands and elsewhere. The development of EIA
towards a more integrated assessment and sustainability assurance is
widely seen as one of the major challenges in the field of EIA (see IAIA,
2002, Sadler 2004). Although the concept is not easy to implement in
practice, it makes clear that, in addition to ecological information,
economic and social aspects are also part of the planning problem. All
three issues deserve attention in order to take into account the interests of
people outside the planning area and of future generations (see Figure 7).
In order to realise sustainable projects, EIA should include not only the
‘here and now’ but also the ‘there and later’ dimensions. This concept has
been applied in the recent EIA for extending the industrial area of the Port
of Rotterdam into the North Sea (the Mainport Rotterdam Project; see
Slob, Verbeeten & Van Huut, 2000).

Social

Sustainable
Development

Economy Ecology

Now & There &

sustainable development
Here Later

Figure 7. Integration of ecological, economic and social aspects

for assessing the impact on sustainability

5.2 Process Integration

In practice, the process of developing and designing infrastructure projects

and the process of EIA seem to be separate worlds. On the one hand, the
274 Jos Arts

usual process of developing and designing road projects focuses on

traffic-engineering quality: capacity, circulation and traffic safety
considerations. On the other hand, the process of EIA focuses on the
impact of the proposed designs, but provides little input information for
improving the designs in terms of environmental or spatial considerations
(the focus is on appraisal rather than development. See also Section 4).
The environmental and spatial impacts of the road design are mainly dealt
with by means of mitigation and compensation measures. However, it can
be argued that better co-ordination of design and EIA would result in
considerable ‘environmental gain’ in terms of preventing environmental
impact and enhancing the environmental and spatial quality of the project.
This requires close co-ordination of the EIA and design processes. For this
purpose, the ‘evaluative designing’ approach might be a useful alternative
to the ‘classic’ approach to EIA and planning (see Box 9).

Box 9. Evaluative designing

As discussed in Box 8, the ‘classic’ approach to the planning process is
considered to be rather linear. This approach seems to prevail in past and current
EIA practice, and is in line with the procedural and other requirements imposed
by Dutch EIA regulations. In the evaluative design approach (see e.g. Arts,
1998), the planning process is explicitly viewed as a cyclic and iterative process,
and tries to dovetail impact assessment with the process of designing and
developing project plans. The approach may be briefly described as follows: on
the basis of various objectives and preconditions, a first set of alternatives for the
project is developed. Subsequently, draft designs for the alternatives are
prepared and the impact of each design is identified (this is done
simultaneously). The designs are modified on the basis of the predicted impact,
and vice versa. Thus, the prevention, mitigation and compensation of negative
impact, and the exploitation of positive impact are direct aspects of developing
and designing the alternatives, rather than being separate steps. In a learning-by-
doing-exercise, through several cycles of design/impact assessment and
evaluation, a set of alternative designs is developed which meet the project’s
objectives and preconditions. Finally, one of the alternatives is chosen.
There are several differences between the two modes of planning. In the
evaluative design approach, impact assessment and design development are
closely integrated (it has a strong multi-disciplinarily character). This is less true
of the classic approach. There is also a difference in the extent to which the
alternatives are mitigated. In the evaluative design approach, the final
alternatives have been mitigated as far as possible. In the classic approach this is
not usually the case – road design and remedial measures for every alternative
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 275
can be distinguished. This has consequences when comparing the impact of the
alternatives. In the evaluative design approach, this comparison is mainly carried
out during the internal planning process for developing the project. A drawback is
that it may be difficult to explain afterwards why certain choices have been made.
In the classic approach this is clearer. When choosing between the alternatives,
alternative road designs may be compared explicitly in terms of their impact,
and/or the measures needed to mitigate or to compensate negative impact.

In addition, the process of decision-making by politicians and

administrators is also rather different from the EIA-process. For
example, decisions are taken in a political context rather than by
environmental experts or engineers. Discussions are usually about
normative, subjective arguments instead of objective facts. The process
is not linear, it contains many feedback loops and it is subject to sudden
changes. It is less straightforward. It is a cyclic and iterative process (see
Box 8 and Figure 6).
The key is to reconcile the three processes of design, impact
assessment and decision-making in order to improve the value of EIA for
designing and decision-making (Figure 8). As indicated above, these
three processes differ in many respects. For example, they relate to
different disciplines, methods and techniques, theories and concepts, and
they relate to different contexts, groups of people, languages and cultures
(the term ‘arena’ is sometimes used in this context). In order to integrate
the various processes, it seems useful to create short cycles of open
interaction, feedback and feedforward between them, as in the evaluative
design approach.

Decision-
Designing
making
Decision-
Designing
Making

Impact Impact
Assessment
Assessment

Figure 8. Integration of the processes of impact assessment,

design and decision-making
276 Jos Arts

5.3 Temporal Integration

Another possible avenue for improving EIA for transport infrastructure

planning is temporal integration. In practice, EIAs are often regarded as a
‘snapshot’. This certainly applies to road development projects in the
Netherlands. Usually, EIA is applied once-only during the protracted,
continuous, complex and comprehensive planning process for road
infrastructure. A common criticism of EIA is that essential decisions on
the project scope are made before the study has been carried out. One way
to prevent foreclosure of environmental considerations is SEA, which aims
for a more explicit assessment of impact (environmental and otherwise) at
the strategic planning level. In the past decade in particular, the
development and dissemination of this instrument has been impressive,
stimulated by formal regulations such the EU Directive on SEA (EC,
2001; see e.g. Sadler, 2004; Therivel & Partidario, 1996; Therivel et al.
1992).
Similarly, it is increasingly acknowledged that an effective EIA
requires follow-up by means of the application of some form of impact
assessment in the subsequent planning and project stages (e.g. the stages
of implementation, operation and exploitation). EIA follow-up can bridge
the implementation gap between project preparation and its subsequent
operation and management (Morrison-Saunder & Arts, 2004). SEA, EIA
and follow-up are all needed to deal adequately with the uncertainty that is
intrinsic to planning and decision-making, and to facilitate learning from
experience (see also Figure 9). In order to become a true instrument for
safeguarding sustainable development, EIA must be extended to cover
broader issues (such as health, social and economic considerations) and
the early and later stages of the planning process (i.e. SEA and follow-up).
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 277

Plan Strategic Location/ Detailed design/ Construction Exploitation

process objectives route landscaping

Assess-
(E)IA
ment SEA Follow-up

Trends Formalisation / Well-established

Integration / Integration / Development /
consolidation streamlining formalisation
coordination coordination

Figure 9. Temporal integration of EIA by means of impact

assessments at the strategic level and post-decision
impact analysis

5.4 Spatial Integration

In addition to the previous avenues for improvement, spatial integration is

also relevant. Transport infrastructure projects are often planned in
dynamic areas where many other developments are planned or various
functions are located (e.g. housing, work, recreation, nature). As a
consequence, there is need for spatial integration of the proposed transport
infrastructure project and the other developments in the area, in order to
develop an integrated view of the spatial quality of the area. There must be
an analysis of the relationships between problems in the infrastructure
network and the underlying causes of these problems in terms of the
nature, volume and spatial distribution of functions, taking into account
the interests of housing, work, recreation, nature, etc. (see Figure 10). In
this way, negative impact can be prevented or mitigated more effectively
and positive opportunities can be better exploited. The integration of
transport and spatial issues is one of the major issues in current transport
planning in the Netherlands. For spatial integration, various approaches
seem to be relevant. These include the evaluative design approach (see
above) and the application of SEA to transport planning. Another
approach focuses on the project definition before EIA, the ‘reconnaissance
studies’: explorative, preliminary studies of traffic and transport problems
and possible solutions (Arts & Van Lamoen, 2004).
278 Jos Arts

Other
infrastructure Recreation Housing

Road

Industrial estates
Other Nature
/ offices
infrastructure Ecological ‘Infrastructure’

Figure 10. Spatial integration of an infrastructure project with

other functions in the area

5.5 Integration of Interests

Although the Dutch Ministry of Transport is a major player in

environmental and physical planning due to its central role in
infrastructure planning, it is still only one of many actors in the Dutch
society, which can be characterised as an open and democratic society
oriented towards consensus building (the ‘polder model’). More in
general in modern Western society, it is clear that other parties have
considerable influence on government planning and decision-making.
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 279

residents
com
mu
ies ter
pan s
com

mentalists
environ-
tourists

Ministry of Transport

dep othe
art r
me

s
O’
nts

NG
local/regio
government

Figure 11. Integration of interests through open and joint planning

For infrastructure planning, these parties include actors such as residents,

commuters, tourists, environmentalists, interest groups, non-
governmental organisations (NGOs), companies, banks and investors,
local and regional governments, and other ministries. As a consequence,
it has become clear that public participation, whereby affected parties
can express their views as part of a formal EIA procedure, currently
takes insufficient account of all these interests. In order to accommodate
more pro-active discussions with the other parties, as mentioned before,
‘open planning processes’ and joint fact-finding are used more and more
frequently in Dutch infrastructure planning. In order to enhance the
quality and efficiency of transport planning, the Dutch government also
advocates co-operation between the various government levels and
between the public and private sectors through, for example, the
application of ‘design and construct’ or other ‘innovative’ contracts, and
Public-Private Partnerships.
5.6 Conclusion

We can conclude that EIA is a rather successful planning-tool and

concept because it has been widely adopted, brings continued innovation
280 Jos Arts

and a broadening scope of application. To a lesser extent, EIA also adds

value to decision-making and condition-setting. To date, however, EIA
has been inadequate as cost-effective means of protecting the
environment (see also Sadler, 2004). There is consequently a need for
more integrated approaches on all levels, for example by horizontally
linking EIA with economic and social assessment, and by vertically
linking EIA with SEA and EIA follow-up and operational
(environmental) management. By exploring the opportunities for better
integration and coordination, EIA can be made more useful for transport
infrastructure planning and become a primary planning instrument for
safeguarding sustainable development.
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 281

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Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 285

13
Transport Planning and Policy

Mirjan Bouwman and Gerard Linden

1 Traffic, transport and mobility

Transportation and its related problems, such as congestion, negative

environmental impacts and safety issues, are recurring topics in everyday
conversations. These problems cause massive social, environmental and
financial costs for a society. It is for these reasons that transportation
deserves proper planning in order to prevent or mitigate the negative
effects of traffic as far as possible. Transportation planning focuses on
diminishing the demand for traffic, the time spent travelling, persuading
people to change from the car to other more environmentally friendly
modes of transport, mitigating existing negative impacts and avoiding
future problems.
The concept of transport planning starts with the basic distinction
between traffic and transport. Traffic refers to the people, who may be
either moving or stationary, and vehicles that are in the transportation
system, whereas the latter comprises all the channels between the origin
and destination, such as roads, railways and waterways. Transport refers
to the actual movement of people or goods. A further important term is
mobility, which refers to the movements or trips made by one or more
individuals.
Mobility is considered to be positive which is why citizens in
western societies have a basic right to a particular level of mobility to be
provided by public transport. However, the concept of mobility is not
286 Mirjan Bouwman and Gerard Linden

entirely clear. How should mobility be measured? An obvious solution is

to express mobility in terms of the distance travelled per period of time.
Such information can easily be found in transport statistics and appears
to be a good indicator. The question is whether this is relevant from the
perspective of an individual. Transport is considered to be a derived
demand; it is not a goal in itself, but a way to reach other goals, such as
going to work, taking part in sport or visiting a friend. From that
perspective, the number of trips, i.e. the number of goals reached, can be
argued to be a better measure of mobility.

Mobility by trip distance, the Netherlands 2002

100%

80%

60%
> 50 km
20-50 km
10-20 km
5-10 km
<5 km
40%

20%

0%
Trips Distance

Source: Statline
Figure 1. Mobility in trips and kilometres, the Netherlands 2002

The difference between the two definitions is particularly relevant for

determining the importance of short trips in mobility. In the Netherlands,
60% of all trips are shorter than 5 kilometres, accounting for only 10%
of all kilometres travelled. On the other hand, only 5% of all trips exceed
50 kilometres in length but account for almost 40% of all kilometres
travelled (see Source: Statline
Figure 1).
The average travel by a Dutch inhabitant is 31.8 kilometres per
day in 3.07 trips. The majority of those kilometres are travelled by car,
as is the case in all other European countries, although in some EU
countries motorbikes have a considerable share of the overall mobility.
 Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 287

In most countries substantial use is made of buses. In both Denmark and

the Netherlands, about 3% of all kilometres travelled (see Source:
Eurostat 2002
Figure 2) are made by bicycle. The high share of travel by car justifies
the overwhelming attention paid to them and the problems they cause in
relation to overall mobility.

100%

90%

80%

70%
Share in total mobility

60%

50%

40%

30%

20%

10%

0%
IRL EL EL DK A IRL L P S B FIN NL DK UK F EU 15
Country

Cars Powered 2-weelers Busses and coaches Rail, tram en metro Cycling Walking

Source: Eurostat 2002

Figure 2. Modal split for different European countries, 2001

288 Mirjan Bouwman and Gerard Linden

Travelled distance by purpose 2002

Other purposes
7%
Commuting
21%
Leisure
14%

Other leisure and

recreational purposes
5% Business
8%

Going for a ride

9% Services / personal
care 3%
Shopping
8%

Education
Visits 5%
20%

Source: Statline
Figure 3. Dutch personal mobility by trip purpose, 2002

Discussions on problems related to transport focus specifically not only

on the car and its related problems, but also on the use of the car during
rush hours for commuting purposes. Although commuting is the most
important trip purpose (21% of all trips) in the Netherlands, it is only
responsible for one fifth of all kilometres travelled. The purpose ‘visit’
has a similarly high share (20%) in overall mobility (see
Figure 3). In this context, it is important to realise that increased mobility
has largely been caused by the increase in purposes other than
commuting.
Policymakers attempt to solve the dilemma between the generally
accepted positive effects of mobility and the related negative effects
caused by transport, such as congestion, noise and safety problems. This
chapter discusses in more detail the positive and negative characteristics
of traffic, transport and mobility, the way mobility choices are made, and
the implications for policymakers, especially from a spatial and/or
planning perspective.
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 289

2 Transport policy

2.1 Infrastructure and mobility

The construction of new infrastructure is very expensive. Recent road

projects in the Netherlands cost several million euros per kilometre of
motorway built. The 8 kilometres of motorway between Amsterdam
Airport Schiphol and the city of Haarlem required an investment of EUR
205 million, resulting in a cost of EUR 38 million per kilometre (NRC
Handelsblad ’03). The missing motorway connection between Rotterdam
and The Hague (A4 Delfland) is expected to cost about EUR 73 million
per kilometre over the total distance of 7 kilometres. Despite this,
construction of new infrastructure continues throughout Europe.

Development of EU highways

300 600

250 500
Highway length (1990=100)

200 400

150 300

100 200

50 100

0 0
1970 1975 1980 1985 1990 1995 2000 2005
Year

B DK D E F I L NL A FIN S UK TOT EL (right axis) IRL (right axis) P (right axis)

Figure 4. Development of motorway system length within the EU

Figure 4 shows the development in the total length of the motorway

system in various European countries (source: Eurostat 2002). The bold
line represents the development of the total length, the thin ones those of
individual countries. Although individual countries cannot be recognised
in the figure, the trend is clear: although generally slower than a few
decades ago, the total length of the motorway system is still increasing in
all countries. The rapid increase in the length of motorways began
considerably later in Greece, Ireland and Portugal than in other countries
and was the result of the influence of EU subsidies.
Clearly, the construction of new infrastructure has important
positive effects as the steady increase in motorway length during the last
290 Mirjan Bouwman and Gerard Linden

decades throughout the EU shows. New infrastructure can make an

important contribution to economic development. In particular, the
construction of new infrastructure in areas with difficult accessibility can
give an important impulse to the economic and hence social vitality of
such an area.
Infrastructure also determines the accessibility of a region, city,
or location to a large extent. The better the infrastructure, the lower the
effort required to access a certain destination. This improves
accessibility, which can be defined as the ease of interacting (see, for
example, Bruinsma and Rietveld 1998). Improving accessibility can be
an important goal for policymakers (May 1997).
2.2 Adverse effects of transport

EMISSIONS
Motorised mobility has a variety of side effects on the surroundings.
First of all, there is noise nuisance, caused by the engine and the
interaction between tyres and road surface (or, in the case of rail
transport, between rail and wheels).
Moreover, motorised transport also emits a variety of compounds
that may negatively affect environmental quality and health. Under ideal
conditions a perfect combustion process results in the formation of CO2
and H2O only. In practice, the combustion of fossil fuels (consisting of
hydrocarbons, CxHy) is not perfect, producing a variety of additional
products, such as unburnt hydrocarbons, carbon monoxide and nitrogen
oxides (equation 1).
(1) C x H y + N 2 + O2 → CO2 + H 2O + NO x + CH + CO
In addition, several other products may be produced as a result of small
amounts of substances added to the fuel to improve engine
characteristics.
Carbon dioxide is a permanent component of the air (0.03 %), which has
no adverse affect on human health at this normal concentration.
However, increased concentrations of carbon dioxide contribute to
increasing the greenhouse effect of global warming which makes carbon
dioxide a major environmental concern. Road transport is responsible for
about 20% of global carbon dioxide emissions (Jepma et al. 1995).
Carbon monoxide is produced when combustion is incomplete.
This gas is lethal in high concentrations, as it reduces the flow of oxygen
in the blood stream. Nitrogen oxides are created in reaction with oxygen
under conditions of high pressure and high temperatures, such as are
found in combustion engines. These gases contribute significantly to
acidification and dispersion. Hydrocarbons, such as methane, also
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 291

increase the greenhouse effect significantly. As well as this,

hydrocarbons in the atmosphere react with nitrogen oxides under the
influence of sunlight to form ozone, which is an important component of
smog (US Environmental protection agency, Office of mobile sources
1994). Smog is a major cause of respiratory problems.

SAFETY
Another major impact of mobility are traffic-related accidents. Within
the European Union, 42,608 people were killed in road accidents in 1998
(Collin 2000). Large differences in fatality rates exist between the
countries in the EU. Accidents rates are lowest in Sweden (60 fatalities
per million inhabitants), the UK (61) and The Netherlands (68) and
highest in Greece (212) and Portugal (243 fatalities per million
inhabitants).

EXPENDITURE
Finally, mobility is costly. The purchase of a car is the second largest
purchase, after a house, for most households. European households spent
on average almost 14% of their income on transport in 2001. (European
Commission, Directorate General for Energy and Transport 2003).
2.3 Shift in transport policy focus in the Netherlands

Policymakers at all levels of government are constantly looking for ways

to profit from the positive effects of mobility while minimizing the
associated adverse effects. O’Flaherty (1997) distinguishes demand-side
measures –focusing on minimizing mobility by reducing demand for cars
and their use, increasing public transport shares and/or reducing the need
to travel at certain times – and supply-side measures – focusing on
increasing the capacity of the transportation system. Interestingly, the
focus of policymakers on either supply or demand varies over time.
Figure 4 – based on the various national transport policy plans published
during that period – shows the shift in focus between demand and
supply in the Netherlands from the 1960s to 2004. The first national
policy document on transportation, published in 1966, is a good example
of a supply-driven transportation policy plan, as it focused on the
construction of, and planning for, infrastructure with an overview of new
motorways to be built. The policy document published at the end of the
1980s (SVV II) focused on reducing mobility by trying to convince
people to use public transport more often and private cars less. There is a
clear shift from supply to demand-focused transport policy. The
direction was reversed in 2001. The national document published then
292 Mirjan Bouwman and Gerard Linden

stated that mobility will continue to grow and that the government aims
to provide sufficient infrastructure, while the adverse effects of transport
should be minimized (Ministry of Transport and Public Works 2001).
There is a clear shift in emphasis compared with the previous paper. At
that time the minister stated that ‘mobility is fun’, thereby once more
indicating that policy was aimed at supply with demand-side measures
coming second. The most recent policy document (Mobility Paper, Nota
Mobiliteit, to be published in 2004) gives a slightly modified main
message. It states that mobility should be possible, but not always and
not unlimited.
Demand Supply
1960
Wegenplan

SVV I
1980

SVV II

2000 NVVP
Nota Mobiliteit

Figure 4. Supply and demand trends in transportation policy in the

Netherlands, 1960-2004
The major policy shifts as shown in Figure 4 resulted in a variety of
corresponding policy measures, aimed at the implementation of the
desired transport policy. The next section describes how policymakers
can interact at different levels of decision-making in order to achieve the
desired goals.

3 Hierarchical structure in transport decision-making

Transportation is not an aim in itself but rather a way of achieving other

goals, i.e. reaching destinations. Transport, therefore, is considered to be
a so-called derived demand. Transport decisions are largely dictated by
decisions made in other subject areas, for example, housing and job
location together determine the commuting distance and to a large extent
also the opportunity for using other means of transport than the car.
Decisions on both housing and work location influence the transport
options and it is difficult for policymakers to influence such decisions.
Policy measures required to influence long-term strategic decision-
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 293

making go beyond the type of measures transport policymakers can take,

involving such matters as policies on spatial planning or financial
planning, including taxation.
There are many day-to-day decisions to be made within this long-
term framework, such as the decision to make a trip, the time of the trip
and the mode of transportation. Once these decisions have been taken,
decisions on an embedded level follow, such as practical decisions on
which route to travel.
The latter two daily decision-making frameworks refer to
decisions that are highly influenced by personal experience and acquired
pragmatic insights. These decisions control the vehicle positioning on
the road (manoeuvre level) and the fine-tuning of speed decisions
(operational level). Table 1 gives an overview of the different levels of
transport decisions. The scheme is based on car trips. The lowest levels
of decision-making do not apply to non-drivers in car trips or public
transport.

Level Type of decision Type of policy measure

Long term Vehicle ownership, housing Public transport, housing
location policies
Short term Trip making, trip timing Mobility advice, public
transport
Practical Route choice, route planning Parking routes,
minimized traffic
Manoeuvre Vehicle positioning Self-explaining roads
Operational Speed regulation of vehicle Road signs
Table 1. Hierarchical levels in trip making decisions

All decisions are based on the valuation of observations and

influence new observations in their turn. The decision to make a right-
hand turn determines what new road information a driver will
experience. Observations and decision-making form a cycle (Tait 1998).
The time it takes to pass through every stage of the cycle corresponds
with the hierarchy in decision-making.
Long-term decisions are made very consciously and are usually
well considered. The actual decision to accept a job or buy a new house
may take several months but can also be made within hours. Short-term
decisions can either be made very consciously (more incidental trips) or
can largely be based on habit (for example commuting trips, in which the
modal choice is not an explicit object of choice). The decision cycle here
is considerably shorter, ranging from minutes to hours.
294 Mirjan Bouwman and Gerard Linden

Practical decisions – like short-term decisions – are either based

on explicit deliberation for more incidental trips or largely based on habit
for more frequent trips. The cycle time is slightly shorter than for short-
time trips. Decisions at the manoeuvre level are partly conscious but also
partly automatic, i.e. without explicit consideration, and completing a
cycle takes only seconds (Tait 1998). Operational decisions, finally, are
almost fully automatic and can to some extent be referred to as reflexes.
Completion of the cycle takes a fraction of second. The continuous
nature of this cycle becomes very clear, for example, in speed adjustment
decisions, which are influenced by the decisions taken earlier on and
have to be made continuously.
The decision-making levels listed in Table 1 are linked and
impact decisions in a hierarchical ranking order. Destination choice
influences route choice. Route choice clearly influences routing
decisions and vehicle positioning on the road. The latter decision impacts
further decisions on speed and course corrections. However, decisions at
lower levels may impact decisions at higher levels as well. Trip timing
decisions, which are largely influenced by congestion for example, may
result in the decision to search for a new job or housing location.
Complicated vehicle positioning actions may result in reconsidering
route choice, etc. Lower-level decisions can, therefore, impact higher-
level decisions, but the impact is less direct and less obvious than the
other way round.
Transport planners can try to influence decisions on any of the levels
distinguished above. Examples of policy measures are given in Table 1.
The next section will discuss strategies for intervening in transport
decisions for each of the five levels presented.

4 Policy for long-term decisions: spatial planning

Policymakers are well aware of the interaction between land use and
transportation. Several initiatives have been tried to integrate land use
and transportation planning as much as possible. The two most important
are the location of new housing areas and the location of firms in relation
to transportation networks.

In 1993, the Dutch ministry of Housing, Spatial Planning and the

Environment published an addendum to its fourth national policy
document on spatial planning. This document announced large
development plans for new housing locations for 650,000 new homes.
The development sites were located close to existing cities, with the idea
that this would stimulate inhabitants to use the existing city with all its
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 295

facilities and employment opportunities. The aim was for the inhabitants
to be able to use public transport and bicycles more often, due to the
proximity of the existing city. However, the new neighbourhoods
(usually referred to as Vinex neighbourhoods, from the name of the
policy document) have created far more car traffic than was originally
expected. The neighbourhoods themselves do not have a large variety of
facilities, which stimulates general mobility, and as these
neighbourhoods are located on the outskirts of the cities they have
excellent access to the motorway network thus stimulating car traffic
even more. In addition, the neighbourhoods attract inhabitants who find
good car accessibility an important aspect. Altogether, the explicit
housing policy did not have as much influence on mobility as was
initially expected.
The second major topic in the long-term mobility policy
concerned the location of employment, which is directly linked to the
location of firms. The so-called ABC policy was introduced in the fourth
national policy document on spatial planning (Wee 1997). This policy
aimed to reduce the use of cars by optimizing the location of new firms
or relocating existing ones. ABC refers to three categories of locations
(see also Chapter 14). The main idea of the ABC policy was to ensure
that firms with large traffic flows from visitors and employers (for
example hospitals) are located as far as possible in places which are
readily accessible by public transport.
Local authorities were supposed to integrate parking standards in
their zoning plans. The ABC policy was, however, not maintained in the
next national document on spatial planning (VROM 2001). It was
concluded that there is too much competition between local authorities to
be able to apply such regulations strictly.

5 Policy for short-term decisions: compact building and trip-

making

In order to reduce mobility, policymakers can try to influence urban

planning in such a way that the need for transportation is minimized. It is
generally believed that the right city design can enhance the use of
alternatives for the car. This is usually referred to as new urbanism,
transit-oriented development (TOD) or smart growth (Renne and
Newman 2002) in the USA, and as the compact city in Europe. The
concept has been discussed extensively in the past (De Roo and Miller
2000; Thomas and Cousins 1996; Hillman 1996; Nijkamp and Rienstra
1995).
296 Mirjan Bouwman and Gerard Linden

Smart growth or the compact city is expected to contribute to a

variety of goals, such as reducing pressure on developing the
countryside, enhancing more effective use of urban land, and upgrading
existing areas by improving the vitality of the area. It is also stated that a
compact city may lead to more social cohesion and enhanced community
spirit, and will result in a more socially equitable distribution of local
services and facilities (Williams et al. 1996). The suggested effects in
transportation concern a reduced average journey length, an increased
use of more energy-efficient transport modes, more viable public
transport and reduced car use.
Discussion on the role of urban structures in managing transport
demand is usually based on, and initiated by, the often-quoted article by
Newman and Kenworthy (Newman and Kenworthy 1989). After making
a global comparison of cities, they concluded that the per capita use of
gasoline declines with increasing densities. Numerous comments and
additional research have been added to this article since (see e.g. Gordon
and Richardson 1989; Bouwman 2000; Diepen 2000b; Kenworthy and
Laube 1999). Various authors have focused on how mobility patterns
change with increasing density (see e.g. Barrett 1996; Diepen 2000a).
Relatively little attention has been paid in this research to the first
argument, which implies that denser living results in shorter trips.
Interestingly, this effect is related to some of the social arguments, which
state that more densely populated areas result in a more equitable
distribution of services and facilities. In short, it is argued that
inhabitants from densely populated cities find specific destinations closer
to home. This improves access to facilities while reducing the average
trip length.
The causality of this relationship is not entirely clear, however.
Whereas this reasoning may apply, for example, to visiting a post office,
it seems less clear for commuting. A distinction often made in this
context is between ‘must’ and ‘lust’ trips (Steg and Kalfs 2000), with the
former referring to obligatory trips for which clear time and locational
limits are valid (commuting) and the latter referring to recreational trips
and the like, for which there are more opportunities to switch time and
location, and which need not even take place at all. It is expected that the
benefits of compact cities will be more apparent for ‘lust trips’ than for
‘must trips’, as destination choice is more limited for the latter.
Obviously, it is easier to change destinations to a closer post office than
to change destinations to a closer workplace. When analysing the effect
of building more densely on trip length, it therefore makes sense to
distinguish between different trip purposes.
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 297

An analysis of the Dutch trip lengths and modal choice in various

urban settings for short trips shows that the expected positive effects of
denser building only occur for a few trip motives (see Figure 5 and
Figure 6).
The differences between settings in terms of distance travelled
and the number of trips are small. Figure 5 and Figure 6 show that
compact building does not increase the share of short trips in total
mobility. However, there is clearly a larger share of public transport in
the modal split. Soft modes also have a relatively large share of the
modal split for most trip purposes.
The standard picture of more trips over a shorter distance with an
increased share for public transport and soft modes can only be observed
for shopping trips. The same pattern, but to a lesser extent, is also true
for service trips.

9
Commuting Business Services and Education Visits Touring Leisure Other
personal care Shopping purposes
8

7
Distance travelled per day (km)

0
1 2 3 4 5 1 2 3 4 5 1 2 3 4 5 1 2 3 4 5 1 2 3 4 5 1 2 3 4 5 1 2 3 4 5 1 2 3 4 5 1 2 3 4 5

< 5 km 5-10 km > 10 km

Figure 5. Travelled distance per day by trip length and urban setting, the
Netherlands
298 Mirjan Bouwman and Gerard Linden

Commuting Services and Other

Business Shopping Education Visits Touring Leisure
personal care purposes
100%

80%

60%

40%

20%

0%
1 2 3 4 5 1 2 3 4 5 1 2 3 4 5 1 2 3 4 5 1 2 3 4 5 1 2 3 4 5 1 2 3 4 5 1 2 3 4 5 1 2 3 4 5

car public transport bicycle walking other

Figure 6. Modal split by urban setting, the Netherlands, settings range

from 1, very strongly urbanized, to 5, rural

The dataset used for the figures presented made it impossible to correct
for other relevant variables, such as income, household size, age, etc.
Therefore, it is not completely clear to what extent any observed
differences can be attributed to compact building and/or to other
variables. However, the dataset clearly shows different results for
different trip purposes. This may lead to the conclusion that although it
cannot be observed to what extent compact building contributes to the
effects, it can be concluded that the effects are mainly apparent for
shopping and service trips. This coincides with the hypothesis that
compact building leads to a more equitable distribution of services and
facilities.
What is the expected effect of compact building on changing
mobility patterns? Increasing the number of facilities and employment in
neighbourhoods can certainly contribute to a reduction in mobility for
commuting and shopping purposes. For other purposes, a modal shift
may occur when adequate public transport facilities are available. It may
be expected however, that the time required to achieve such effects is
considerable. This implies that effects may not be noticed or may be
overwhelmed by regular developments in mobility.

6 Policy for practical decisions: Network structures

Decisions taken on the practical level include route choice and route
planning. The most direct tool policymakers have available for new
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 299

infrastructure is the network. Road networks can be shaped in various

ways, imposing different concentrations of vehicles and distances
between destinations. Figure 7 shows different road structures for
neighbourhoods.
Different network structures result in different route factors. A
route factor is defined as the actual distance between two points divided
by the distance as the crow flies between these points (Blunden 1971).
Route factors have been subject to both theoretical and practical research
in the last decades. It shows that route factors depend on the shape of the
infrastructure network (Vaughan 1987), the tortuosity of the roads
(Beckett 1976), and on the distance travelled (Timbers 1967).

Figure 7. Network structures

Bolt (in Schoemaker 2002) compares the effect of various network
structures on construction costs and user costs. Simple structures with a
small number of possible routes between two points are cheap to
construct but imply relatively high route factors and thereby high user
costs. More complex structures with more connections between origin
and destination are more expensive to construct but cheaper in use.
Policymakers, therefore, can reduce the number of kilometres travelled
by creating a denser network, resulting in lower route factors and less
kilometres lost in detours.
However, new and quicker connections always result in extra
traffic, so-called induced traffic (Hills 1996). As new infrastructure
decreases the impedance for a trip, more trips will be made (see also
Chapter 10). This implies that, in total, more trips will be made.
300 Mirjan Bouwman and Gerard Linden

A recent Dutch program integrates these ideas in the concept of

VPL (Verkeersprestatie op Lokatie – Traffic performance on location).
The idea behind the program is to construct a road structure with a dense
network for bicycles – thereby minimizing route factors for cyclists –
and a less dense structure for cars in order to make bicycle use relatively
attractive. Research by Klimbie (1999) suggests that a 6% saving can be
achieved on energy use for transportation by applying VPL consistently
in new neighbourhood locations.

7 Policy for manoeuvre and operational decisions: ‘Duurzaam

veilig’ and other road design concepts

A large variety of design manuals is available for the design of local

roads, intended to standardize street designs throughout the country as
much as possible. Manuals such as the Dutch CROW manual (Tait 1998)
provide detailed recommendations on practical road design, such as the
exact position of bus stops, traffic lights, pedestrian crossings, etc.
On a slightly higher level, debates have focused on the design concepts
underlying such recommendations. Psychologists have pointed out that
individual performance is optimal if a particular level of background
noise is present. This is referred to as the Yerkes Dodson law (Teigen
1994). If the level of background noise is too high, individuals will be
too distracted for optimal performance. Although the relevance of this
phenomenon for transportation planning was detected as early as 1908
(see textbox, coincidentally the same year as the formulation of the
Yerkes Dodson law), it has only recently been applied in road design
concepts.

Letter to the Times, 13 july 1908, from Colonel Willoughby Verner

Dear Sir,

Before any of your readers may be induced to cut their hedges as suggested by the
secretary of the Motor Union they may like to know my experience of having done so.
Four years ago I cut down the hedges and shrubs to a height of 4 ft for 30 yards back
from the dangerous crossing in this hamlet. The results were twofold: the following
summer my garden was smothered with dust from fast-driven cars, and the average
pace of the passing cars was considerably increased. This was bad enough, but when
the culprits secured by the police pleaded that 'it was perfectly safe to go fast' because
'they could see well at the corner', I realised that I had made a mistake. Since then I
have let my hedges and shrubs grow, and by planting roses and hops have raised a
screen 8 ft to 10 ft high, by which means the garden is sheltered to some degree from
the dust and the speed of many passing cars sensibly diminished. For it is perfectly
plain that there are many motorists who can only be induced to go at a reasonable
speed at crossroads by consideration for their own personal safety.
Hence the advantage to the public of automatically fostering this spirit as I am now
doing. To cut hedges is a direct encouragement to reckless driving.

Your obedient servant,

Willoughby Verner
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 301

A new design program for road safety called ‘Duurzaam Veilig’

(Sustainable Safety) was introduced in 1997 in order to reach the goals
on traffic safety set for the year 2000. The program was initiated in close
collaboration between municipalities, regions, district water boards (as
the dedicated owners of some local roads) and the national government.
The main idea behind the program is that traffic safety is enhanced
considerably if roads – all over the country – present a uniform
appearance to the user. Roads with a predominant flow function should
be able to cope with large traffic intensities. Different categories of road
users will be given their own dedicated part of the network as much as
possible, i.e. a cycle track for cycles, footpaths for pedestrians, etc. As a
result car drivers can maintain a relatively high speed, as their attention
is not distracted by other background noise. At the other end of the scale
there are roads with a primarily residential function. On such roads
background noise, such as different kinds of road users, are important
instruments for compelling car drivers to pay full attention and hence
keep their speed within acceptable limits.

8 Concluding remarks

Mobility can be influenced in the direction of prevailing transportation

policy goals. Analysis shows that the instruments used to influence
behaviour have different characteristics and possibilities at the various
levels as has been illustrated by the examples in the preceding sections.

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304 Mirjan Bouwman and Gerard Linden
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 305

14
Planning of Industrial Sites

Pieter Pellenbarg and Henk Voogd

1 Introduction

The planning of business sites is for decades characterized by

pragmatism and opportunism. Municipalities are often keen on attracting
new firms and industries for reasons that are fully understandable:
commercial enterprises generate jobs and tax revenues. Maps of land use
planning often show large ‘purple areas’ denoting ‘industrial or
economic land use’, where in reality only meadows with some cows can
be spotted. Evidently, businesses usually don’t follow planning wishes
but market considerations. Planning can only be meaningful if market
behaviour is taken into account (see also Ashworth & Voogd, 1995).
This chapter will elaborate on business site planning, in particular
with Dutch experiences in this area. Two levels will be distinguished: the
strategic level, especially approaches of national and regional planning
for regulating business sites, and the operational level, i.e. approaches
that are used by local governments and private parties.
The structure of this chapter is as follows: first a
regional/strategic perspective will be discussed. Here, attention is paid to
two development concepts for business sites, viz. the ABC location
concept and the sustainability concept. The ABC concept has recently
been dropped as national guideline for Dutch planning, but dominated it
in the 1990s. It provided guidelines for reducing car-mobility in the
business site planning process that are still applied by a number of
306 Pieter Pellenbarg and Henk Voogd

municipalities. At present, reducing mobility is just one of the objectives

of the more encompassing effort to create sustainable business sites. In
the second section, we move from concepts to practice. We pay attention
to local land use plans as a basis for business site development, and
discuss the increasing tendency of local governments to use ‘park
management’ strategies in the development process. Sustainability
aspects may be part of such strategies. The ‘park management ladder’ is
suggested as a model to differentiate between strategies with different
levels of ambition with respect to the sustainability principle. Finally,
some organizational aspects of park management will be discussed.

2. Strategic planning of business sites

2.1 Location policy

Dutch national government stimulated for many decades municipalities

to make land use planning reservations for new business sites. This was
justified as ‘encouraging economic policy’. As a consequence, many
municipalities offered room for economic activities without any
restrictions involved. With the publication of the Fourth Report on
Physical Planning in 1988 environmental considerations became more
and more important. The growth of auto mobility was seen as a threat
that needed more attention. The planning concept of ABC-locations was
introduced for improving the integration of land-use planning and
transport planning. The objective of this concept is to reduce car-
mobility by locating 'the right business in the right place'. It is a land use
policy aimed at reducing avoidable automobile trips and ensuring access
to economic activity centres, but it included also some new investments
for improving public transport at a certain location (see also Verroen et
al., 1990; Martens, 2000).

Three different business locations have been recognized in this concept:

1. A-locations, which are easily accessible to local, regional and
national public transport. These are sites around public transport
junctions. Commuting by car should be under 10-20%.
2. B-locations, which are easily accessible both by local and
regional public transport and car. These are sites where high
standard public transport routes cross ring roads. Commuting by
car should be under 35%.
3. C-locations, which are easily accessible by car. Essentially, these
are business sites along the highways.
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 307

Figure 1. A model
of ABC-locations

Source:
VROM (1990)

In addition, firms are associated with a so-called mobility profile,

according to the number of employees and visitors, their dependency on
car traffic and freight traffic. Shops and offices with many 'counter'
customers and/or many employers are preferably located in A-areas, but
never in C-areas. Other types of offices are located in A- and B-areas,
while C-areas should only be used for transport activities or land
intensive activities. The ABC system includes a series of standards, such
as density of employee per m2 and parking places per employees. For
instance, in A-localities the maximum number is 10 parking spaces per
100 employees and in B-localities 20 per 100 employees in the four
largest cities; in other urban areas, the norm is 20 and 40 respectively.
Actual developments in cities have indeed followed to some
extent a pattern along the lines of the ABC-location concept. Office
buildings along highways without public transport have lost some
popularity. Many sites near central railway stations have been
redeveloped in line with the ABC-concept. This has raised the following
question: is this development because of the planning concept, or is it
because of the fact that the concept just describes a development that is
already going on? This question appears to be difficult to answer (see
also Jansen et al., 1997).
As Table 1 shows, more than one third of the establishments
(offices, industries, trade firms, etc.), were located in 1996 in accordance
with the ABC-location concept. This is just slightly more than in 1991.
The number of establishments located at the ‘wrong’ place according to
the ABC-location concept, for instance offices alongside highways
without public transportation, decreased in a relative sense between 1991
and 1996. However, there is still an absolute increase of more than 3000
establishments in this category. The location of new establishments in
308 Pieter Pellenbarg and Henk Voogd

the period 1991-1996 show a shift into the desired direction, but as we
can see in Table 1, more than 30 percent of new establishments were still
able to obtain building permission for the wrong place.

1991 1996 New

Establishments
Wrong place 12.362 43.4 15.518 39.8 3.156 30.2
Right place 8.683 30.5 12.400 31.8 3.717 35.5
Wrong nor 7.455 26.2 11.048 28.4 3.593 34.3
right place
28.500 100.0 38.966 100.0 10.466 100.0
Source: VROM (1999)
Table 1. Classification of number of establishments (absolute and
relative), with respect to the correctness of their location according to
the ABC-location concept between 1991 and 1996.

Almost 36 percent of new establishments are located at the right

place according to the ABC-location concept. However, how ‘right’ is
right? The ABC-location concept is intended to minimize work-related
car mobility. This means, for instance, that the number of parking places
for labour intensive firms at A-locations (i.e. at intersections of good
public transport), should be limited to discourage car use and encourage
public transport. However, a case study of five cities (Rotterdam, The
Hague, Zwolle, Leeuwarden and Groningen), in 1998 revealed that four
out of five accept a violation of the parking standards of the ABC-
concept, provided that the firm concerned pays a sum of money for each
surplus parking place to the municipality (Sprik, 1998). Evidently, under
these circumstances it becomes very attractive for cities to encourage
firms to take more parking places than allowed. The national
government, nor the provincial government, has hardly any legal means
for preventing such undesirable behaviour. The majority of investigated
cities argued that the revenues of this policy would be used for other
traffic measures, which might also be helpful in reducing car mobility –
the aim of the ABC-concept. However, it is also likely that this enables
a municipality to assign a part of their original budget for traffic
measures to other purposes. In that case it has no relation whatsoever
with the intended reduction of car mobility and the ABC-location
concept is then just an ordinary source of income for municipalities.
Of course, reasoning is possible that without the ABC-location
concept, a worse situation may exist. This may be true, but it seems less
likely, because we can witness an international trend that new offices are
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 309

being located near intersections of main public transport – mainly

railway and air.
A most probable explanation for the mismatch between national
government planning concepts and municipal government’s
implementation planning is the fact that by law building permits must be
approved by a municipality if they are in agreement with the local land
use plan (‘bestemmingsplan’). In other words, they cannot be rejected
because of a disagreement with the national plan. However, most Dutch
municipalities have local land use plans that are 10 years or even longer
in force. They are not very keen on changing these plans, unless strictly
necessary, because of the costs involved, both in terms of time and
money. According to the Physical Planning Act they have to revise these
local plans every 10-year, but the national government does not pose any
pressure on municipalities to maintain this legal rule. The municipalities
don’t matter because also a ‘too old’ local plan remains valid as long as
no newer version exists.

2.2 From sustainable to careful

In the second half of the 1990s the combination of ecologic and

economic targets in land use planning became an official part of spatial-
economic policy in the Netherlands. A number of National government
documents introduced and underpinned the new policy adagio (i.e.
VROM 1997, EZ 1998), and the Ministry of Economic Affairs (EZ),
launched an official project for stimulating sustainable business sites.
The concept of sustainable business sites hit home and within a few
years local governments developed such sites by scores. Almost
immediately and very understandably the sustainability concept was
extended to cover the redevelopment of old industrial sites. Purposefully
and on the advice of consultancy firms (BCI/BO2, 2001), the word
“sustainable” is taken back in more recent policy documents and
replaced by the phrase of “careful land use”, in order to avoid resistance
from private investors and also to acknowledge the width of the concept
which not only stands for restricting streams of materials, water, energy
and waste but also aims for intensive space use and sustainable site
arrangements.
Whether the concept of careful industrial land use will stick
remains to be seen. The new right wing cabinet that was installed in July
2002 launched a policy statement that shows little environmental
engagement. Nevertheless the concept of careful industrial land use
seems to be there to stay. This proves to be the expectancy of
entrepreneurs involved in the process of developing sustainable business
310 Pieter Pellenbarg and Henk Voogd

sites, but it also reflects general tendencies in the demand and supply of
business sites such as the upsurge of social factors and the origination of
specific market segments (see for more information Pellenbarg, 2002).

3. Operational planning of business sites

3.1. Local Land Use Plan

Business sites can spontaneously be created, especially if a very

impressive firm has eyes on an interesting location that is not formally
assigned in a local land use plan as business site. Given the job
opportunities involved, even in a strongly regulated country as the
Netherlands, municipalities may forget the formal land use plan
(bestemmingsplan), in order to convince the site seeking firm that their
town is the best place to be. However, generally local government
follows legal avenues, which means that a local land use plan determines
whether a firm is acceptable at a certain location or not. The fact that this
location has the designation ‘economic zone’, or alike, on the plan map
of the land use plan is not sufficient for obtaining permission. Generally,
municipalities are critical with respect to the type of firms that are
allowed on a business park, sometimes for reasons of the ABC-concept
discussed earlier, sometimes because they don’t want that an office park
be mingled with polluting or noisy industries. This is regulated by means
of the local land use plan. The plan map may, however, not reveal any
restrictions, but often in the plan a detailed list of economic activities is
included (lijst van bedrijfsactiviteiten), that mention in detail the types of
firms that are allowed. If the activities of a firm are not mentioned in this
list, than that particular firm is not welcome on that particular business
location. Instead of, or in addition to this list, plans may also use a
classification of businesses on basis of environmental sensitivity from 1
(little environmental nuisance), to 5 (much nuisance).
It is usual since the eighties to provide business areas a ‘green’
image by using the word ‘park’, suggesting that this lends grace and
beauty to the workplaces. Modern business locations are therefore often
promoted with maps that emphasize the green areas (e.g. Figure 2). This
may create a problem if the area is not green by itself. Evidently, it takes
a tree time to grow! Municipalities and businesses may therefore be
tempted to create new business sites in nature areas in a leafy
umbrageous setting. However, all those in favour of nature protection
may not appreciate this. For this reason, governmental policy is
increasingly directed towards the re-use of old industrial areas: the so-
called ‘brownfield redevelopment’. Brownfield redevelopment refers to
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 311

the reuse of abandoned, idled or underused industrial and commercial

sites where expansion or redevelopment is often complicated by
environmental contamination.
.
.

Source:
www.ten-
nuenen.nl

Figure 2. Example of ‘green’ business site

The granting of new ‘greenfield’ industrial sites is showing much

fluctuation in practice. It strongly depends on the general market
situation and macro-economic conditions. Figure 3 illustrates this.
Municipalities therefore more and more cooperate in developing joint
business areas. Regional industrial parks are not unusual anymore since
it avoids that municipalities are being played of against each other.
Because regional competition is expelled it helps keeping the ground
price high. Besides, regional parks are more flexible in coping with
fluctuations in demand, which promotes careful land use.
312 Pieter Pellenbarg and Henk Voogd

Sources: CPB, Macro-economische Verkenningen 2002

RPD, werklocaties 2001
Figure 3. Relationship between granting of new business sites and
economic developments in the Netherlands between 1987 and 2000

3.2. Park management

Be it a disdain of the ‘free market’ supporter for rules set by the

government or a postmodernist attitude towards individual independence
and freedom, fact is that firms usually prefer to keep full responsibility to
their business and business environment. The traditional role of the
municipal government as a facilitator of services is therefore
diminishing. Instead we can notice a new development that Healey
(1997), describes as ‘collaborative planning’. Firms situated on a
business park manage as much as possible jointly their common or
‘shared’ interests, such as maintenance of grounds, facility management,
utility management, including waste disposal and energy management,
and site development, including acquisition of new participants. This is
summarized under the umbrella notion of ‘park management’.
Park management is generally described as a way of organizing
the management of a business site (Hoogzaad 2001), or more specifically
as a method to manage the entire process of design, development,
distribution and management of both site and buildings of business
locations (Van Engelenburg et al 1998; Ecorys 2002). Alternatively one
could phrase this as a method to induce different actors to organize the
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 313

management and maintenance of public space (Van Leeuwen et al 2002).

It is a process dealing with the arrangement and management of both
built and undeveloped spaces and the development and exploitation of
both collective and individual facilities and services on business sites. It
furthers cooperation between firms on such sites. The ultimate goal is a
higher quality level of both public and private space. As a result of the
quality increase, park management also serves to sustain the existence of
business sites for longer periods. The latter qualification makes it easy to
mix up park management with restructuring and revitalization of existing
business sites, because those activities serve the same goal: prolonging
the lifetime of a business site. However, restructuring and revitalization
are for once activities, whilst park management is a permanent activity.
Currently the approach is followed both on existing sites as part of a
revitalizing process, as well as on newly developed sites.
At least four aspects of park management can be distinguished
that need further attention and elaboration when a park management
strategy is considered:

• The product aspect

The question should be dealt with which facilities and services should be
part of the park management. For instance, should it be limited to some
easy to organise joint facilities, like a common catering or cleaning staff,
should it include a joint purchase of energy or a common disposal of
waste?

• The process aspect

Depending on the products that are selected, an organizational model

should be chosen for preparing park management activities and set them
going. This may vary from a ‘loose’ association of participating firms to
a special ‘park management firm’, that may also operate for other
business parks. Most successful business parks in the UK show private
forms of park management that were initiated and controlled by the firms
on the park (Ecorys (2002).

• The partner aspect

Which partners will be engaged in the management process? A critical

question here is always to which extent do ‘we entrepreneurs’ want to
involve local government? It will often be wise to have some formal
relationship with the municipalities concerned, since – at least in the
314 Pieter Pellenbarg and Henk Voogd

Netherlands – they are responsible for the wider environment of the

business park and they are – due to decentralisation processes of the
National Government – increasingly responsible for maintenance of
environmental standards. However, firms may see his last argument may
also as a very good reason to exclude government.

• The profit aspect

Park management will probably result in more benefits than costs. So the
question is relevant how risks and profits will be divided among the
collaborating partners. Potentially, profits of park management are
manifold, as suggested by Table 2. Cost reductions, revenue increases,
environmental gains and image effects dominate the picture. Not all
profit categories are undisputable. Especially the conclusion that local
governments may profit from park management as a new strategic
instrument of environmental policy is debatable and in fact constitutes
one of the development problems that will be discussed in the next
section.

GOVERNMENT FIRMS
Lower cost of site maintenance Focus on core activities
Positive image effects Influence on working climate
Improved competitive position Safe and pleasant work conditions
Increase in number of jobs Employees satisfied
Decrease of pollution Improved competitive position
More (property), tax revenues Improved image
Strategic instrument environmental Cost reductions by collective
policy purchasing

INVESTORS/DEVELOPERS SOCIETY/ENVIRONMENT
Higher value of real estate Positive environmental effects
Real estate retains value Careful (economic), land use
New and remunerative independent Joint use of facilities
activity Increase of spatial quality
Improved image
Adapted from Ecorys (2002)
Table 2. Potential profits of park management

Park management is fashionable, also because of local governments

reach for the profits promised by Table 2, and certainly not (yet), the
result of an overwhelming enthusiasm from the side of private firms that
consider moving to new business sites. Is the apparent interest of
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 315

municipalities supported by the existence of ready chances of

influencing entrepreneurial actions? The safe choice for municipalities is
to construct policy instruments that provide incentives (Ashworth &
Voogd, 1995). Evidence shows, especially for spatial-economic policies,
that more repressive instruments may work counteractive (e.g. see Van
Dijk and Pellenbarg 1996). Still, many local governments face the
question how intensive their involvement in park management should be.

4. Development issues

There is of course a practical difference between countries such as the

UK where many business sites are privately developed, and the
Netherlands, where municipalities traditionally act as site developers.
However, also in the latter situation, where it is more normal to find
municipalities in the position of park management initiators, the
principal question remains whether these municipalities should remain
involved, or try to hand it over as soon as possible to the firms on the
park, casu quo the association these firms may set up for their park
management, or any specialized company they want to hire to carry out
that management for them. The way of implementation obviously
depends on the question whose interests have to be served in the first
place. In the Netherlands municipalities act like any other stakeholder
and favour own interests first by calling it ‘the general interest’. Hence,
they appreciate park management because they welcome it as a new
policy instrument, next to the existing forms of legal power they have
such as local land use plans, long lease contracts and other land policy
instruments (Van Leeuwen et al 2002).
Under these circumstances park management may become a
fashionable way of imposing new regulations on firms seeking
establishment on new business sites. May, because it will of course
strongly depend on the organisation of park management at a particular
location and the decision power that is delegated from government to the
firms themselves. If this organisation is badly structured and ‘powerless’
park management may become the government’s way of compelling
careful industrial land use. Clearly this is a position diametrically
opposite the choice one could make to improve the management
organization of a business site primarily in the interest of its private
users: to lower their costs, improve their revenues, and extend the
lifetime of their spatial investment. For instance, a municipality may
decide to make the park management organisation the site developer as
well by selling the land to this organisation. This allows this organisation
316 Pieter Pellenbarg and Henk Voogd

to better control new admissions and to better maintain maintenance

rules.
The position of the actors and the weight of their interests is an
important issue to be faced in the park management process. Another
issue is about the rigour of the rules to be applied. Apart from the
question which actor dominates the rule-setting process, rules for
admission on the park and rules applying to production operations can be
few or numerous, simple or radical, more or less binding. These can be
important issues, very directly related to the chance of developing a
successful site. A practical problem is that different public laws may
apply, e.g. the minimal rules for buildings and land use are given in the
local land use plan, which is a legal plan that cannot be changed very
easy. Anyway, a change of such rules should follow formal procedures
for appeal, which is always open for individual park members and
outsiders. Also environmental permits can for the same reasons formally
never be settled within a park management setting. In addition to these
formal legislations additional rules can be made by the park
management organisation, which should be maintained by private law.
This is relatively easy for members firms, but it will be more difficult to
set admission rules for non-members in addition to and without formal
support of the land use plan.
Allowing firms to take pro-actively part in the process of making
a (new), land use plan will further the acceptance of rules. Finding firms
that want to participate in a particular set of rules, especially if they
apply not only to site arrangements but also to the production process,
will be enhanced according to Pellenbarg (2002), by putting one
(possibly big), company that holds a large specific interest in the lead of
the park management process.
On the basis of an individual estimation of the profitability
incurred firms may choose to keep within the bounds of one or more
collective base packages concerning for instance the management of
signposting, parking, traffic and security on the park or choose one or
more supplementary packages concerning for instance
telecommunication infrastructures, meeting rooms, nurseries, sport and
leisure or employment services. Such supplementary packages may even
imply quite radical encroaches upon the production organization of the
firm, concerning its use of water, energy and raw materials and its
system of waste disposal (Van Engelenburg et al., 1998, Ecorys, 2002).
The site developer can counterbalance the firm’s package choice with a
higher or lower land price. For instance: the larger the package, the
lower the price of the land. Or a lower price may be accorded for a more
sustainable package. In this way the development of park management
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 317

packages constitutes a useful enlargement and innovation of the concept.

Unfortunately, the insights as to the nature and content of the packages
are not very consistent. It will be shown that the possible options can be
represented in a logical order: the “ladder of park management
activities”. This list of possible park management activities can be
considered as a mounting series of services and arrangements that rises
from rather simple provisions to very complex regulations implying real
forms of industrial ecology. Figure 4 pictures this idea in the form of a
scheme: the “ladder of park management activities”. The order of activi-
ties is from simple to radical, which also corresponds to an ordering from
individual interests and economic targets to collective interests and
ecologic targets. The list is certainly not exhaustive and the classification
could have been different (e.g. see also Ministry of Economic Affairs
1998).
In Figure 4 an ‘area option’ and a ‘stream option’ are being
distinguished as just the extremes of the list. At the left hand side of the
scheme, where a number of organizational concepts is shown, facility
and utility sharing are added in between both extremes, following De
Vries (1998). He defines facility management as “the joint purchasing by
firms of security, cleaning and catering services, nursery, maintenance of
buildings and greens, public transport, car washing etcetera. Utility
management is “the initiation and performance of projects aiming at
industrial water supply, joint waste water processing, the use of rest heat
and facilities for telecommunication and multimedia use”. Only the last
category is definitely out of the frame of Figure 4, where it is positioned
at the lower (“simple”), end of the ladder of park management activities.
This view is consistent with Van Leeuwen et al (2002), who also restrict
utility sharing to joint schemes for transport, water and energy that can
be told apart from “symbioses” only by their lesser intensity and lack of
actual interdependence. Symbiosis implies a coupling of the production
processes of individual firms, utility sharing doesn’t.
318 Pieter Pellenbarg and Henk Voogd

Figure 4. Ladder of Park Management

How is park management best organized? A detailed example of

a possible process structure for park management is shown in Figure 5.
This is an organizational model (slightly adapted) that was used to
successfully establish park management on the industrial site “De
Krogten” in the Dutch city of Breda, a municipality with 160,000
inhabitants. De Krogten is a 425-acre industrial site accommodating 140
individual firms (both big and small, from various sectors, located
higgledy-piggledy on the site, occupying both owned and rented
premises) that offer a total of 6000 jobs. The site has the well-known
characteristics of an old industrial site: old buildings, bad roads, some
derelict infrastructure (dock and rails), a damaged sewer system, greens
not maintained and much rambling litter. A study in the mid 1990s
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 319

advocated a revitalization of the site. This revitalization process was

started in 1997. The example of De Krogten illustrates that it is very well
possible to use park management also in cases of redevelopment. The
development in this case was a purposeful cooperation between the firms
on the site, who formed an association to shape their cooperation with
the municipality. Figure 5 depicts components of the park management
process they have set in motion.

Adapted from Snijder (2002)

Figure 5. Management components Eco-park “De Krogten” in the
municipality of Breda

As in the park management ladder, Figure 5 shows a course from

collective to individual interests, but in this case this course doesn’t
represent a spectrum with two extremes but a timely sequence. It
suggests that the collective interests dominate at the start of the process
and in fact continue to do so except for the final phase, when a more
permanent management structure has to come into existence in which
private interests must be served. In the process, which may cover a
couple of years, the accent is first on policy formulation, taking shape in
memoranda that describe the main line views of the partners on the
320 Pieter Pellenbarg and Henk Voogd

project. In the second part of the process the action orientation shifts
from policy to operation and main line views that were laid down first
have to be elaborated now into separate agreements on different parts of
the project. The part in the centre of the Figure shows the organizational
forms that match with the different stages of the process. In the policy
phase a steering group is formed to take the lead in the process, and an
association of firms is being set up. Project and working groups may be
engaged with separate planning activities. In the operational phase the
actual development work starts, for which the partners may set up a
reconstruction company. Then area development changes into area
management and finally into contract management relating to whatever
packages of park management may be on offer, possibly prepared by
park management working groups.
The Krogten’s organizational model is certainly not the one and
only possible model to implement park management. Several alternative
models have been developed, as exemplified by Van Leeuwen et al
(2002). They discuss and compare six park management-planning
models that recently gained national acquaintance. All six models share
the feature of a dominant public party, i.e. the local government, in the
early stage of the development process or even during the process as a
whole. However, this is not the only option. Local governments are
sometimes inclined to take a dominant position in the position of site
developer, and especially in case of new sites when it is impossible to
involve firms in park management in a stage that no firms are present on
that site yet. In this context, it is interesting to note the influential role of
consultants in the positioning of local government in park management
development. Such consultants are usually firms specialized in spatially
oriented policy and research. They are the prime promoters of park
management models. Small wonder that they put their clients in model
positions that give them influence in the process. It is not unusual that
the consultants also put themselves in positions of influence, thus
creating permanent revenue next to the original consultants fee! Van
Leeuwen et al (2002), found in a comparison of cases that consultants
often award themselves a role in defining the content of the park
management process (“identifying options”). Municipalities are five out
of six times in this position, firms only two times. The process-initiative
is mostly awarded to municipalities (four out of six cases), or to
municipalities cooperating with firms (three out of six cases), but never
to firms alone. Clearly, the consultants advise a top-down process and
reject the bottom-up option.
Environmental and Infrastructure Planning 321

5. Some concluding remarks

The planning of business sites is not simple activity. There is a

fluctuating demand and a large variety of possible users with different
behaviour and wishes. Strategic planning concepts, like the ABC
concept, may seem theoretically justifiable, but appear difficult to
implement in practice. The concept of park management is more
associated with post-modern planning theory. It covers a great number of
different activities. Although in varying degrees, all of them are of
potential importance for careful industrial land use. The park
management ladder puts the activities concerned in a logical sequence.
This sequence unfolds a relationship with both public and private
interests. It proves to be in accordance with the varying degree to which
these interests are being served. According to their position on the
ladder, park management activities can be characterized as spatial
arrangements, facility sharing, space sharing, utility sharing, or real
forms of productive symbiosis (industrial ecology). A practical
application of the ladder emerges where it is used as a basis to define
park management “packages” of different content. Next to the content of
such park management packages the design of the process that should set
park management in motion, is of utmost importance. First, this concerns
the position of the partners that participate in the process. Whose interest
is served most, according to the choice of products, and which partner
takes the lead in the process. Different models are conceivable, but
evidence from the Netherlands suggests that if local governments have
the lead in site developing, they also tend to dominate in park
management and are very much tempted to use park management as a
new form of regulatory power.
A too strong dominance of park management by local
governments is not to be recommended. It leads to a under-utilization of
the potential benefits, and ignores the evidence from practice which
shows that park management is most successful when organized by
private parties, or at least with a heavy involvement of private parties. A
more balanced process-design, offering space for both public and private
participation would also be more in line with the modern interaction-
oriented approach in planning theory. Regulatory planning is only
meaningful if the rules are formulated in a pro-active setting. Woltjer
(2000), characterizes such planning as “consensus planning” (see also
Chapter 3). At present the communicative planning approach is still coping
with the problem how to take social dilemmas between public and private
interests sufficiently into account (Voogd 2001). Weak interests that need
support of the government cannot do without superimposed rules.
322 Pieter Pellenbarg and Henk Voogd

Nevertheless, the benefits of the new planning paradigm are sufficiently

known. This chapter has illustrated that park management, based on the
insights of consensus planning, is the avenue to explore further in industrial
site planning.

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