Three weeks ago, a story appeared on our feeds without ordeal but with roguish potential for repping Malta’s newest viral urban sin. It shed light on an expansion proposal for a site adjacent to the PAMA supermarket in Mosta – arguably the most super of supermarkets across the archipelago – where a mature public garden, it said, would be introduced on brownfield land with three storeys of retail and parking space below.
This is not the first announcement to this sprawling retail effect. The story reaches back to 2019, when a planning application was first submitted for the project. News then emerged that its extension would live below what is currently a 13,700sqm agricultural field (approximately the size of two football pitches), on land outside our much-beleaguered development zone. This original scheme has changed somewhat, but not majorly.
Essentially, it is not the merits of the proposal itself that need calling into question here (although actual questions have been sent through to the project applicants, with no reply received at time of publication). What is of more acute concern is how proposals like this increasingly present themselves in our urban conversation, and connectedly, the misdirected critique they often carry.
The comments section beneath the PAMA expansion stories hold a familiar assortment of complaints – several are legitimate, and most address its siting on ODZ land. But this story is not scary because of its chosen plot. It’s scary because of the swelling trend it mascots – a trend of park-washing, vertical-green-wall-washing, public-space-washing, public-art-washing, street-planters-washing, water-fountain-feature-washing; and in this case, the proliferation of underground development toupéed with green space, advertised as endeavours that will improve the public realm.
Here’s what’s scarier than the fact it’s being proposed on ODZ land.
Firstly, underground development has high potential for detrimental environmental impact. Its carbon footprint stands to be far greater than anything built aboveground. To that tune, these are some of the danger signs we should look for with large swathes of subterranean development.
Waste: Clarification on re-distribution plans for excavation excess is needed, and there do exist genuine opportunities for excavation waste to be managed properly. For example, if it’s used to level out land that joins the site with its wider urban context, ensuring the development creates an integrated urban experience beyond its red line. If there is no sign of this, we should worry.
The composition of subterranean structural materials must also be expressly named. Underground development typically requires significant structural reinforcement, which often means steel and concrete – materials that carry high embodied carbon (i.e. carbon emitted during the construction of a building). We need to be dogged about demanding measures are taken to avoid this carbon impact, whether it’s through concrete aggregates, cement substitutes, or otherwise. If not, we must seriously challenge development policies for accepting any justification around such huge environmental impact.
We most crucially should be questioning large-scale development on an ideological level
The kind of vegetation proposed to sit on top of any development is also consequential. How much water will it take to sustain that greenery? (Same question applies to invariable roadside green-wall proposals). Lawns specifically, known to require substantial watering, should be considered red flags if recommended without clear maintenance strategies. And if a park, mature garden, meadow, would-be forest, etc., is proposed as having a relatively shallow roof system, how will it handle rain accumulation and avoid run-off mismanagement and flood proclivity?
It all goes far beyond ODZ, and accordingly our provocations must extend past that particular crime. The acronymised language of ODZ, UCA, and so on, is what we wield as automatic weapons of criticism, because these are terms universally understood within this fight. I empathise. But resorting to the ODZ card amounts to using one square of kitchen roll to absorb an island-size milk spill. It’s too far gone.
Sad as it may seem, we must be on guard for anything presented as ‘green space’ today. That’s not to say we should discard singular proposals out of hand, but our scrutiny must intensify. Green schemes hold a surface appeal convincing enough to ingratiate themselves with a public that is sick to death (and by respiratory problems) of a shortage of fresh air, greenery, and open space. Without igniting island-wide paranoia – they are a weapon for concealing urban vice.
Beyond the material questions imperative to these proposals, we most crucially should be questioning large-scale development on an ideological level. Should we really be siloing land uses in this way – building another shopping temple in an area where retail needs appear to be more than amply met? Are we at peace with allowing shopping ghettoes to atrophy urban ligaments, like the PAMA site, into oversized motorway service strips?
But there’s a park on top! Sure. But imagine we moved away from sweeping unsavoury environmental practices under the park, and instead marshalled focus towards deriving value out of existing built matter? Perhaps we could install the grocery Mecca we apparently want inside a building that is not being used for anything else.
And if our standing buildings are not good enough to be retrofitted as such, then we could try reusing their materials to rebuild (without excessive subterranean structures) a place for stacking the miles of consumer goods we think we need. Then maybe, after that, we could build a park somewhere – with nothing underneath.
Write to culture@timesofmalta.com using the subject line: ‘Space Matters’ if you would like to suggest a subject this column should cover.
Stay tuned for the next article in the series.