The Planning Authority (PA) has found itself in the news once again - but this time, for the right reasons. Last week, it announced that nine historic bridges across Malta and Gozo have been granted Grade 2 and Grade 3 protection status. These 19th-century civil engineering structures, many of which played critical roles in military logistics and national development, will now be preserved as integral parts of Malta's cultural heritage.
This is a commendable move, and one that shows what the PA is capable of when it aligns itself with the public interest and long-term vision. Working alongside the Superintendence of Cultural Heritage, the PA's Heritage Planning Unit rightly recognised that these structures "represent key moments in Malta's transformation from a heavily fortified outpost under British rule to a modern Mediterranean State".
And yet, for every such commendable act of heritage protection, there are dozens of planning decisions that seem to do the exact opposite: contributing to the erosion of Malta's character, damaging its environment, and undermining quality of life for future generations.
The irony is hard to miss. The same authority that can issue statements about safeguarding our engineering legacy is often accused - rightly - of facilitating the ongoing destruction of our towns, landscapes, and public spaces. The same body that speaks poetically about the past appears to be largely indifferent about the future.
If the PA can understand the value of a 150-year-old bridge, why does it so often fail to understand the value of green spaces, village cores, sustainable development, and cohesive urban planning? Why is it so quick to rubber-stamp development permits that promote sprawl, congestion, and environmental degradation?
Critics have long dubbed it the Permit Authority, and not without reason. In countless cases, permits have been granted for developments that clearly contradict national and local plans, sometimes ignoring objections from residents, local councils, and experts. Enforcement is often weak or absent. And more often than not, it seems that the benefit of the doubt is given to developers, not to the community or the country.
This duality - conservation of the old, destruction of the new - must be addressed. Because planning is not only about preserving the past; it is, first and foremost, about preparing for the future. It is about shaping the way people live, move, work, and grow. And that requires vision, responsibility, and consistency.
Respect for heritage should not be confined to structures built in stone a century ago. It should also apply to the living fabric of our urban and rural environments today. Malta does not need more apartments crammed into narrow streets or more hotels popping up in once-peaceful neighbourhoods. It needs breathable, liveable spaces. It needs planning that is based on human needs.
The decision to protect the bridges shows that the PA can act as a steward of the national interest - when it wants to. But this should not be the exception. It should be the standard. What we ask is simple: that the same level of respect shown to these historic structures be extended to our current and future built environment.
Planning is a tool. Used well, it can preserve our past and shape a sustainable, thriving future. Used poorly, it can permanently damage both. The PA has proven it knows how to conserve. Now it must prove it knows how to plan.