It’s time for a plan for Randstad Holland

The apparent ease with which plans are made and disappear again seems symptomatic of spatial planning in Randstad Holland. For decades, integrated planning has not been systematically done. We can no longer remember the last integral card. Since that time, there has been no coherent spatial concept on which sub-plans or aspects of planning are based. The fact that this has been going well for so long is due to the special structure of the Randstad. The Randstad is polycentric in design with a lot of (play) space between the cores. Peter Hall, who describes the large metropolises in 1966 in his book World Cities, mentions the unique character of the Randstad and describes its advantages. The individual cities have been able to experience autonomous development for a relatively long time. Now that space is becoming scarcer, the lack of planning is palpable. Adriaan Geuze aptly portrayed it last year in Zomergasten on national TV. Things happen that no one asked for. Our Ruisdaelian dream, in which every neighbourhood is a hamlet – clear and quiet, and if possible adjacent to the landscape – is under pressure. The patchwork quilt that has replaced it offers too little order and cohesion and also eats up space. The Randstad is and remains a spacious and scenic metropolis. And yet it often feels full and cluttered. The bottom-up growth seems to have reached the limits of its capabilities.

Instead of intervening, the minister has previously opted for postponement. In 2012, the Infrastructure and Space Policy Document was published. Deregulation and decentralization were dominant concepts in this. Fewer rules and more decision-making power for provinces and municipalities. I couldn’t resist sending a public participation response. After all, my field, that of urban planning, was at stake. The Ministry of Housing, Spatial Planning and the Environment had already been abolished, but now the development of coherent spatial concepts has also been definitively abolished. In my public participation response, I tried to make it clear that large cities need planning. Not to record everything or to steer it in a coercive way, but to steer developments in the right direction and to ensure that everything and everyone can feel at home in the city. This is as obvious as it is necessary, because the city is a barrel full of contradictions. An accumulation of people and interests in a small area requires a vision in which everything can live together in the desired connections and relationships. Also, or perhaps especially, an urban system such as the Randstad needs structure, so that this complex agglomeration remains attractive and can function efficiently. We live together with 7 million people and about 2 million more will be added. The least we can do is make a Randstad plan. Randstad Holland without a plan is rudderless. There is a need for a plan that sets out the lines for the further development of Randstad Holland, with roads and connections, with a crystallized relationship between city and country, and with well-defined valuable landscapes.

A plan provides new certainties now that many cities and villages are gradually losing the safe frame of reference of the surrounding landscape. New certainties now that the way in which Randstad Holland dweller has always lived is coming under pressure. In that context, building on the coastal strip is not just a debate between supporters and opponents. It seems like such a pretty liberal idea. Fewer rules, less interference and less patronizing, but in fact it is laissez faire. The loss of collateral and the loss of values. A liberal in particular should understand that you can only let go when the lines have been set. Freedom is not a sandy desert, but freedom is Route 66. No freedom without something to hold on to. No future for Randstad Holland without vision.