One of the more interesting tensions emerging in modern planning systems is the push toward increasing codification.
More numerical controls. More prescribed outcomes. More standardised assessment pathways.
Increasingly, planning systems across Australia are being reshaped around codified assessment pathways that rely on predetermined, measurable standards rather than broader planning judgement.
In Victoria, the recently introduced Townhouse and Low-Rise Code establishes a ‘deemed to comply’ framework for residential development, whereby proposals that satisfy prescribed numerical standards are fast-tracked through the assessment process with limited scope for discretionary assessment. Similar reforms are now being extended to mid-rise housing.
In New South Wales, the expansion of complying development pathways, state-wide housing policies and pattern-book housing initiatives similarly seek to increase certainty and reduce assessment discretion.
South Australia has already consolidated its planning controls into a single state-wide Planning and Design Code and is actively pursuing automated assessment processes capable of testing proposals against fixed criteria.
The rationale is understandable.
Developers want to know what can be built before they invest millions of dollars into a project. Governments want faster assessment timeframes. Communities want transparency and predictability.
While these reforms are often motivated by legitimate objectives such as housing supply, efficiency and certainty, they also reflect a broader philosophical shift in which planning increasingly becomes an exercise in measuring compliance against predefined standards rather than balancing competing objectives through professional judgement.
As planning systems become more digital, and as artificial intelligence begins to enter the conversation, clear and structured rules become even more important.
On paper, all of this makes perfect sense. But there is a risk.
In our pursuit of certainty, we may be inadvertently stripping planning of the very thing that makes it valuable: judgement.
Planning policies exist for good reason. They provide the framework within which development occurs and help ensure fairness, consistency and orderly growth.
But compliance should be the starting point of the planning conversation, not the end point.
The ultimate objective of planning is not to produce compliant developments. It is to produce good development outcomes.
A development can comply with every numerical standard in a planning code and still be a poor outcome. Likewise, some of the most successful developments ever delivered have required decision-makers to look beyond strict numerical controls and assess the broader merits of a proposal.
Good planning is not about asking whether a development complies. It is about asking whether it improves the place around it, the community it serves, and the long-term character and functionality of the area.
Does it contribute positively to the public realm?
Will it create a better experience for residents, workers and visitors?
Does it respond appropriately to the unique characteristics of the site and its surroundings?
Does it respond to the bigger challenges facing our cities, including housing affordability, climate resilience, infrastructure capacity and changing community needs?
Those questions cannot always be answered by a setback dimension, a height limit or a parking ratio.
Planning is fundamentally about people. It is about shaping communities and places that people will experience for decades. That requires context, professional judgement and an understanding that no policy framework can anticipate every circumstance.
Over recent decades, planning systems across Australia have become increasingly standardised and prescriptive.
State-wide planning frameworks, deemed-to-satisfy pathways, numerical performance standards, and increasingly detailed assessment criteria have all been introduced with the objective of improving consistency and reducing uncertainty.
There have undoubtedly been benefits. Assessment processes are generally more transparent. Expectations are clearer. Applicants have greater confidence about likely outcomes.
But every gain comes with a trade-off. The more prescriptive a planning system becomes, the less room it leaves for judgement.
Decision-makers become increasingly focused on whether a proposal complies, rather than whether it represents a good outcome, and increasingly conservative in their decision-making when framing becomes a yes or no question.
Applicants become incentivised to pursue safe, repeatable and formulaic outcomes to de-risk their pathway to approval rather than the most innovative, ambitious or, arguably, the best. Over time, planning risks becoming less about shaping places and more about administering rules.
The strongest developments rarely emerge from a formula. They emerge from thoughtful responses to unique circumstances. They challenge assumptions, test new ideas and occasionally require decision-makers to exercise discretion in pursuit of a better outcome.
If planning systems leave no room for that discretion, we risk creating places that are technically compliant but ultimately unremarkable.
None of this is to suggest that planners always exercise discretion well.
Discretionary systems can be inconsistent. They can be influenced by individual biases, philosophical positions and varying levels of experience. Many within the development industry support codified assessment pathways precisely because they provide greater certainty, are framed as efficient, and reduce the risk of subjective decision-making.
As one speaker observed at a recent planning conference, “if you are one of those planners standing on the hose, get off.”
That criticism rings loudly in development circles.
But the existence of poor decision-making does not necessarily justify removing discretion altogether. The more important question is whether we should be improving the quality of planning judgement, or redesigning entire planning systems to avoid the need for it.
The rise of artificial intelligence makes this conversation even more relevant.
There is no doubt that AI will play an important role in the future of planning. It has enormous potential to assist with administrative tasks, process straightforward applications, analyse large data sets and improve the efficiency of assessment systems.
In many respects, that should be welcomed. Planners should spend less time processing routine paperwork and more time thinking strategically about the future of communities.
The challenge arises when we begin to assume that planning decisions can be reduced to a series of inputs and outputs.
If planning policy becomes increasingly prescriptive, and AI becomes increasingly capable of interpreting those rules, it is not difficult to imagine a future where planning assessments become largely automated.
The question is whether that future delivers better places. Because planning is not simply a technical exercise – it involves balancing competing interests, understanding community expectations, evaluating design quality and exercising judgement in circumstances where there may not be a single objectively correct answer. Those are inherently human tasks.
The danger is not that AI becomes part of planning. The danger is that we reshape planning to suit AI.
None of this is an argument against policy, consistency or efficiency. Nor is it an argument against technology.
Planning systems need clear rules. Communities deserve transparency. Applicants deserve certainty wherever possible.
But planning systems must also preserve space for judgement. The best planning outcomes often emerge when experienced professionals are empowered to look beyond strict compliance and consider the broader question of merit. Technology should help us focus on those conversations, not replace them.
Because ultimately, planning is about shaping places.
And places are far too complex, nuanced and human to ever be reduced entirely to an algorithm.
