The recurring call for the “revision of Local Plans” is often presented as a sweeping reform, but in truth the real substance lies primarily in just two matters.

The first concerns ODZ boundaries: whether to extend development zones as happened in 2006 with the rationalization excercise or, conversely, to restore undeveloped rationalised land back to ODZ.

The second concerns the height limitation maps: while many areas are formally zoned for four floors plus penthouse, in practice numerous streets are being retained at two storeys on the basis of ‘dominant design characteristics’. If certainty is to be restored, the Local Plans must be revised so that owners clearly know their rights, rather than facing shifting outcomes depending on the ‘mood’ of decision makers.

These are the two questions that truly matter, and they must be answered by Leader of Opposition Alex Borg and Planning Authority Executive Chairman Johann Buttigieg, since it is they themselves who have specifically spoken of the need for revisions in the last days. I say this in a little more detail in my latest Talking Point in the Times of Malta, which appeared on 24 September 2025 and which I am reproducing here in full:

 Alex Borg and Johann Buttigieg

 I recently heard the newly elected Leader of the Opposition being asked about the future of planning in Malta. His reply was clear: the Local Plans must be revised. Around the same time, the Executive Chairman of the Planning Authority also hinted that changes to the Local Plans may well be on the horizon. Different voices, same tune. The political and institutional drumbeat is converging.

But before we rush into “revision,” let us be honest about what a Local Plan actually is. Put simply, it is the rulebook of our towns and villages: it tells us, usually through maps, where you can build and where you cannot, what must be preserved, what uses are permitted on each street, and—crucially—how high you can go. These height limitation maps, established in 2006 after ‘detailed studies’, were meant to provide certainty. If the map said three floors plus a semi-basement, then that was considered appropriate for the area. Over time, interpretation loosened, and three plus semi-basement became four plus penthouse within the same prescribed height.

Having said all this, the paper rules remained while practice drifted. And so we find ourselves in Santa Luċija, Dingli, Lija and elsewhere, where streets technically zoned for four floors plus penthouse are, by order of the very same Planning Authority—prompted, to be fair, by the Courts—kept intact as two-storey neighbourhoods.

 So what does it really mean when we speak of “revising the Local Plans”—at least with respect to the two central issues: the boundaries of development outside the scheme (ODZ) and the building heights indicated on the Local Plan maps?

 First, are we really talking about extending development boundaries? If so, that would be a dangerous game. The Executive Chairman himself recently admitted that over 80% of submissions during consultation came from people lobbying to have their outside-scheme plots absorbed into development zones. I cannot put it more bluntly: this would be disastrous. One endless ribbon of building across the countryside is not planning—it is surrender. We already have the Rural Policy and Design Guidance which, although much criticised, never amounted to a blanket licence to build outside the scheme. If Parliament bows to such pressure, then the very idea of rational planning collapses. And while we are at it: which areas zoned for rationalisation—regardless of whether they are subject to konvenju or even purchased, but which remain undeveloped—will be removed and restored to ODZ?

Second, what about the height limitation maps? On paper, many areas within the development scheme allow four plus one. In practice, however, many streets remain defined by the two-storey terraced houses of the 1970s and 1980s. Ironically, these were once derided in my first years at University: narrow rear yards, abandoned courtyards, aluminium apertures, banal facades. And yet, despite these academic sneers, there is now a growing social preference to keep these streets untouched, precisely because sporadic apartments with blank party walls ruin visual integrity. Indeed, residents and eNGOs have pushed back, and planners responded by invoking policies lower down the hierarchy which stress respect for “dominant streetscape characteristics.” The effect? Local Plan allowances for four plus one became legally uncertain, as permits were cut down to two storeys.

 To complicate matters, the much-debated Bill 143 now before Parliament seeks to confirm this principle by amending Article 52 —that more recent policies can override Local Plans. Strangely, NGOs have cried foul, even though this is the very legal tool that preserved certain streets from inappropriate development.

 So let us cut through the rhetoric. When Alex Borg and Johann Buttigieg speak of “revising the Local Plans,” do they mean that where the maps currently say four plus one, this will be redrawn as two in order to preserve the prevailing character? If yes, then let them say so openly. Will the PN commit to this? Will the Planning Authority? If yes, then it is time to act rather than prevaricate.

 What we cannot afford is endless waffle about “holistic revisions”. That phrase is meaningless if it does not answer the basic question. Do these 1970s and 1980s streets remain intact, or not? If the decision is yes, then the Local Plans must say so in black and white, even if it means families accept that their airspace will never be developed. No one is entitled to compensation for dashed hopes: legal doctrine is clear that vested rights do not attach to zoning lines on paper. And there can be no legitimate expectation to enforce a right that does not exist. That is basic law.

 In short, the revision of Local Plans, if it comes, cannot be an exercise in empty words. It must tackle these two issues head-on. Anything less is just political theatre.