Urbanization Interventions: Strategies, Plans, and Policies

Abstract

This chapter explores the successes and challenges of managing urban growth. It examines the influence of formal and informal rules in society on urban development, drawing on examples of strategic planning and transit-oriented development in cities such as Stockholm, Amsterdam, and Paris. Despite ample qualitative evidence regarding the importance of national planning systems, it is difficult to establish a statistically significant causal link between planning systems and their ability to control urban development. The evidence also shows an increasing impact of European policies and strategies, such as the European Green Deal, on urbanization despite the absence of a mandate for planning.

3.1 Introduction

In the previous chapter, we saw that the rate at which urbanization is occurring in Europe is highly heterogeneous and that divergent urban structures and trajectories can be distinguished across the continent. As explained in Chapter 1, the drivers behind urban development are manifold. On the one hand, there are demand-side drivers such as the collective desire and willingness to pay for residential or business space. On the other hand, there are supply-side drivers with landowners, local authorities, and developers seeking to profit from increases in property values. The force of these drivers is amplified and diminished by institutional factors such as land-use planning. This chapter seeks to examine how what we call public-sector ‘interventions’ (i.e. policies, plans, strategies, projects) help to shape the trajectory of urban development (Cotella et al., 2020a, p. 2; Gerber et al., 2018).

Section 3.2 discusses the basic theoretical concepts used in this chapter, such as institutions and interventions and their relationships with key organizations such as planning authorities. Given that the interventions that influence how urbanization occurs are formulated and implemented by different tiers of government, the chapter treats each level separately. The local and regional level, discussed in Sect. 3.3, is closest to the actual building process and is most directly responsible for guiding or even initiating urbanization. These local and regional interventions take place within larger systems of spatial planning established at the national level (Sect. 3.4), but sometimes national governments try to intervene in urbanization processes as well. Section 3.5 then investigates how, even without a mandate for spatial planning, European Union policies still influence urbanization. Section 3.6 then addresses the thorny issue of the extent to which the interventions and systems discussed can be considered effective or successful. We conclude by arguing that interventions can promote sustainable urbanization, but also that institutional factors play a crucial enabling or constraining role in this.

3.2 Urbanization, Institutions, and Interventions

Judging by the volumes of success stories and best practices (Bulkeley, 2006; Fioretti et al., 2020), there is good reason to believe that interventions can and do influence urbanization. To understand how this occurs, we will need to unpack and reflect on some terms. First of all, these interventions are generally introduced within a specific planning system, which can be understood as an institution. Institutions should not be confused with organizations that perform specific tasks; instead, they represent ‘the rules of the game’ in society, both formal and informal, that influence how individuals and organizations behave (North, 1990; Salet, 2018).

The institutional aspect of a planning system comprises the formal establishment (usually via national legislation) of planning entities and their powers as well as the various instruments available to them to intervene in urbanization processes, such as spatial strategies, land policy, financial incentives, and zoning. Part of the planning system is also comprised of informal institutions, such as routines, governance traditions, concepts, and norms that define the prevailing planning culture or doctrine (Alexander & Faludi, 1996; Buitelaar et al., 2007). This influences the way that requests for planning permission are evaluated and the way planning agencies deploy instruments to solve the everyday ‘puzzle’ of reconciling competing land uses.

The power of planning systems to influence urbanization is indirect, and primarily found in the authority of planning agencies to draw up zoning plans, grant planning permission, or issue building permits.¹ Depending on factors such as statutory powers, political mandate, or the composition of its members, these organizations can be more or less interventionist with respect to urban development. Dutch planning theory makes a useful distinction between three different orientations, reflecting the evolution of planning in that country over the past few decades: passive planning, entrepreneurial planning, and facilitative planning. Passive planning refers to a non-interventionist situation where current zoning is considered the norm, and the burden of proof rests on initiators to argue that change is necessary. Planners act as gatekeepers and see themselves as champions of the public interest and enforcers of the status quo. This stance became highly criticized in the late 1990s and ‘passive’ planners were blamed for laziness and obstructing development (Hajer & Zonneveld, 2000). A similar debate occurred in the UK (Lord & Tewdwr-Jones, 2014). Spurred by institutional changes and popular opinion, an era of entrepreneurial planning commenced where municipalities (including planning agencies) took an active role in urban development, buying and selling land and participating in public-private partnerships (Meijer & Jonkman, 2020; van den Hurk & Tasan-Kok, 2020). This also found parallels in the post-Thatcherite UK with the establishment of Urban Development Corporations (Imrie & Thomas, 1999). During this period, public agencies sometimes played a dubious role in granting planning permissions for initiatives for which they were directly involved. This sometimes entailed a careful balancing act between financial gain and public interest. Aside from the ethical conundrums, which were often pragmatically dismissed or ignored, it exposed the public sector to market risks. The 2008 financial crisis put an abrupt end to this era of planning in the Netherlands: business cases evaporated overnight, and many municipalities faced severe financial hardships when they were unable to sell the land intended for large-scale urban development, but still had to make payments on its inflated value. Eager to recoup their losses, planners actively sought out ways to entice development through a combination of financial incentives and flexible regulation. This reorientation, called facilitative planning, can be viewed as a partial return to a non-interventionist orientation, albeit with an overtly pro-development stance (Zonneveld & Zwanikken, 2015). These vastly different orientations within the same statutory planning system demonstrate that informal institutions (practices, routines, beliefs) are a vital factor in determining how urbanization is carried out.

In the remainder of this chapter, we focus on interventions in Europe, building on the evidence base amassed in the ESPON SUPER project (Cotella et al., 2020a). The text box below describes how the data was collected and ordered. Although various tiers of government are involved in setting the rules of the urban development game (Lord, 2012; Samsura et al., 2010), or as active players, arguably the most important level at which this occurs is the local and regional level, the topic of the following section.

Fig. 3.1

Distribution of interventions in the ESPON SUPER project

Survey of Interventions

The SUPER project compiled a database of interventions in Europe that affect, or try to affect, urbanization and land use. The data collection took a broad approach, with any measures influencing the distribution of development and land-use rights as being potentially eligible for consideration. Data was collected by (1) the research team based on own research and knowledge, (2) an analysis of unpublished ESPON COMPASS project reports, (3) an online questionnaire, and (4) a targeted search and literature review. The third method yielded the most results, while the fourth was used to fill in gaps.

The 235 identified interventions were classified according to location, territory/scale, type (containment, densification), instrument (regulation, strategy), and status (binding, voluntary). Each contains a basic description of the intervention’s aims and how it works. The interventions were also briefly assessed on success (efficiency, effectiveness and relevance), sustainability (economic, ecological, social and institutional), and side effects.

This map (Fig. 3.1) shows the geographic distribution of the interventions in the SUPER database. Although care was taken to be as inclusive as possible, the research team’s countries (and the UK) are overrepresented.

3.3 Local/Regional Interventions (Plans and Projects)

As long as cities have existed, local authorities have tried to steer how they develop. In Europe, ancient Greek cities had laws governing the location of streets and public spaces, and Roman settlements were laid out according to military specifications (Hall, 1998; Kostof, 1991; Talen & Duany, 2012). In medieval France, entire new towns (bastides) were laid out according to strict plans designating the location of squares and churches within a street grid of standard widths and setbacks. The early modern era also featured systematic urban development. The construction of Amsterdam’s famous canal rings occurred within a strict planning regime dictating building attributes and uses (Abrahamse, 2019). Later, in the nineteenth century, Napoleonic law banned unhealthy industries from cities and Germany started zoning for allowed land uses within them (Talen & Duany, 2012, pp. 23–24). By the twentieth century, local authorities were becoming increasingly involved in matters of urban development. This section will provide a sample of how this occurs; it is not intended to be comprehensive or representative but merely wishes to show the range of interventions at this level of scale and some of their effects.

3.3.1 Wedding Urbanization to Transportation

During the first decades of the twentieth century, urban design and development moved from the city to the regional level. After centuries of more or less concentric urban extension, new models of urbanization emerged, often enabled by advancements in transportation infrastructure (Antrop, 2004). Long before the term transit-oriented development (TOD) was coined (Cervero, 1998), European cities were doing just that: building densely near suburban railway stops and creating internally connected regional conurbations. In general, these kinds of interventions often fall into the facilitative planning category, with improved accessibility acting as a catalyst for development but are often bolstered by restrictions on unwanted alternative locations (passive planning).

Three iconic plans illustrate this: Hamburg’s Feather Plan (1919), Amsterdam’s General Extension Plan (1935), and Copenhagen’s Finger Plan (1947), all of which are based on the radial network concept where urbanization is concentrated near rail lines extending outwards from the city centre, like fingers from a palm of a hand. The ‘green wedges’ between the urban fabric were believed to create a healthier residential environment and were instrumental in directing the growth of their respective cities to the present day. Similarly, Stockholm’s extension plan was identified as “arguably the best example anywhere of coordinated planning of rail transit and urban development” by Robert Cervero (Cervero, 1998, p. 109). In this plan, densification of urban areas should preferably take place around infrastructure nodes, while natural areas should be preserved by developing a green infrastructure. However, Paulsson (2020) observed that by the 1980s, the development of Stockholm’s public transport system slowed and cooperation between regional and municipal governments stagnated. Only after an intervention by the national government in 2012 did transit-oriented development resume (Paulsson, 2020, p. 2938). So even in strongly decentralized Sweden, one cannot discount the authority and involvement of higher tiers of government (we will return to this matter in Sect. 3.3). Finally, this kind of development has occurred on a larger scale. In 1965, Paris designated five satellite towns (Villes Nouvelles) situated 15–30 kilometres from the core city and connected by the regional light-rail system. By the end of the century, the cities lost their special status and accompanying subsidies and were considered a normal part of the urban fabric. Today, these areas provide housing for hundreds of thousands of people served by an excellent transport link.

Another example regards how train stations in Europe have been repurposed from monofunctional transport hubs into mixed-use areas. Retail activities, offices, and other commercial activities have been incorporated into these well-accessible and often majestic structures. One of the pioneers in this regard is Leipzig which used the redevelopment to strategically concentrate urban functions as a response to acute demographic decline in the early 1990s. King’s Cross and the nearby St Pancras railway stations in the heart of London are other notable examples. The plan to open a St Pancras terminal of the Eurostar line, the railway connection to continental Europe, provided an important stimulus for the redevelopment. The industrial area around these two stations was clearly in decay, but at the same time contained many Victorian industrial buildings, many of which were preserved and reused. The areas around the stations were transformed into new public spaces (Christiaanse et al., 2019, p. 467). Preserving cultural heritage while modernizing the railway infrastructure was also a goal of Antwerp’s central station redevelopment. Antwerp had recently become an essential link in the high-speed railway to Brussels and Paris, and to preserve the monumental station building, the international line was placed underground and retail and other activities were added above, creating a vital mixed-use environment, providing an impetus for further development in the area.

3.3.2 Regeneration and Densification

Europe has a long history of densification. Renaissance Italy, for example, had regulations mandating that gaps between homes be filled up with buildings (Talen & Duany, 2012, p. 38). In the modern era, after decades of postwar growth and urban expansion, European cities found themselves in a crisis in the 1970s and 1980s. Suburbanization had siphoned off middle-class households, and with it, their tax contributions, plunging many core cities into penury. This was compounded by macroeconomic malaise and deindustrialization processes, which left many urban areas abandoned, impoverished, and dangerous (Hall, 2014). Born of necessity, cities started to reinvent themselves, seeking new uses for obsolete functions. Interventions falling into this category generally take the form of entrepreneurial planning.

One of the most important paradigm shifts was to reinterpret derelict, polluted, unsafe, and unsightly industrial sites, particularly waterfronts, as assets and economic opportunities. Following the lead of Baltimore, Barcelona was one of the first European cities to attempt this. In 1981, Barcelona adopted an entrepreneurial planning approach, initiating a small-scale urban renewal programme, carefully renovating squares, streets, houses, and parks and creating new public facilities. Over the next decade, the city leveraged the 1992 Olympic Games to scale up redevelopment. Railway tracks were uprooted, the industrial waterfront renovated, and an entire Olympic Village built. After that, the city moved on to projects on a metropolitan and regional level (Christiaanse et al., 2019, p. 417). Barcelona became a beacon for many other ailing cities in Europe, demonstrating that strong local institutions could produce results. In a comparison between Barcelona and Milan, Pagliarin (2018) concluded that institutional differences regarding the regional authority were key factors in their ability to contain sprawl: the more comprehensive and consolidated spatial planning system in the Barcelona region performed better than the more fragmented Milan region. A similar comparative study found the same relationship between Amsterdam and Brussels, allowing the former city to manage growth more effectively (Terhorst & Van De Ven, 1997).

Amsterdam, Hamburg, and Copenhagen all followed Barcelona’s lead. Amsterdam started the redevelopment of its abandoned harbour areas around the river IJ during the second half of the 1980s. The first megaproject was the Eastern Harbor district, which was transformed into a new residential area with more than 8,000 houses, partly by reusing existing industrial buildings. Bridges were built to connect the docks, islands, and peninsulas to the main city and public transport lines were extended to the new district (de Klerk & Van der Wouden, 2024). Copenhagen employed a similar strategy on a larger scale. Upon completion, the former harbour of Nordhavn should provide room for 40,000 residents and an equal number of jobs in an attractive, dense, and compact urban district surrounded by canals, water basins, and open sea (Ariza et al., 2019). Hamburg’s massive HafenCity project situated at the North side of the river Elbe is transforming the former industrial zone into a mixed-use urban area, with 5,500 new houses and space for 40,000 workers. One of its landmarks is the iconic new music hall, the Elbphilharmonie. HafenCity has high standards for sustainability, not only in the field of energy efficiency but also in anticipating high water levels. A study comparing the waterfront developments in Amsterdam and Hamburg revealed that although there are signs of greenwashing in both instances, there are distinct and measurable indications that the development is sustainable (Nijman, 2019).

3.3.3 Urban Containment

Another way to promote compact development is to restrict or forbid (non-compact) development, often to protect natural habitats or the open countryside. Such policies have a long history, from medieval restrictions on building outside the city walls to Prussian laws restricting greenfield development in order to keep servicing and infrastructure costs affordable (Talen & Duany, 2012, p. 38). The SUPER database contains 30 more recent examples of urban containment measures. These interventions almost always fall into the ‘passive planning’ category because they are used to evaluate requests for planning permission. Containment measures are usually set at higher levels of scale to overcome collective action problems, but there are some examples where this has been instituted more locally.

The compact city strategy pursued by Stockholm, Amsterdam, and Copenhagen discussed before can also be viewed as a de facto containment measure because they affected the evaluation of planning permission requests. More directly, in 1980, the Andalusia region in Spain introduced quantitative urbanization caps for medium and large municipalities (40% of the previously existing urban land or 30% of the previously existing population within eight years) as well as the coordination of management systems for protected natural areas. As such, it was singled out as a European best practice to limit, mitigate, or compensate soil sealing (European Commission, 2012). The Italian region of Lombardy levies a tax on greenfield development, increasing total construction costs by 1.5–5%, which is then placed in a fund for green space development (Mazzoleni, 2021). Another Italian region, Emilia-Romagna, doubles urbanization fees for greenfield development and reduces them up to zero for infill development (Cotella et al., 2020c). Inter-municipal cooperation in Vorarlberg Austria resulted in a plan, largely considered effective, that designated green corridors where development is restricted. Another Austrian example is Mödling where twenty communities adopted a plan to steer development and protect open space. Another example of a regional strategy is the 2014 ‘contour policy’ of the Dutch province of Zuid-Holland, which designated different levels of protection for rural areas and specified the kind of development allowed in them. Similarly, the ‘red for red’ policy of the Dutch province of Noord-Holland allows urbanization in rural areas only if an equal amount floorspace is demolished. The most famous containment strategies are open space designations, such as the Grüner Ring in Leipzig, the Corona Verde of Turin, the Promenade Verte in Brussels, and green belts around Cork, Brussels, and London (Cotella et al., 2020b). London’s Green Belt has attained an almost mythological status in planning due to its resilience and scale. It also required national policy to implement, the topic of the next section.

3.4 National Interventions (Spatial Strategies and Governance)

National spatial planning systems in most European countries face similar challenges: how to accommodate the demand for urban functions while preserving green spaces, how to keep cities affordable, vital, and inclusive while dealing with climate change. At the same time, many countries in Europe find that their spatial planning systems are unable to prevent informal development or the uncontrolled proliferation of second homes, business parks, out-of-town shopping malls and, more recently, datacentres and logistics/distribution complexes in the countryside and protect the livability of their historical centers.

3.4.1 Typology of Planning Systems

To understand how national spatial planning systems in Europe manage urbanization, it makes sense to first take stock of the divergent systems in place. There have been many attempts to classify European planning systems since the seminal work Urban Planning in Europe (Newman & Thornley, 1996). The first comprehensive comparative study occurred in 1997 with the voluminous Compendium of Spatial Planning Systems (European Commission, 1997). This study ordered systems according to four types: the comprehensive-integrated approach, the regional-economic approach, land-use planning, and the urbanism tradition. Less than a decade later, this landmark study was updated by the ESPON programme and extended to the new member states, showing that some planning systems had gravitated towards other types in the meantime (Farinós Dasí et al., 2006).

A decade later, ESPON decided to perform another update (Nadin et al., 2018). It discovered that much had changed for planning in the member states in the interim. First, a convergence of systems was apparent, partly due to the homogenizing influence of spatially relevant European policies such as structural funds, transport, and the environment (we will return to this in the next section). Second, spatial planning has become more strategic. Some European countries already had a long tradition of strategic planning, but it appeared that many were catching up. Similarly, policy integration was improving: spatial planning was being linked to more and more policy sectors. Third, in reaction to the increasing complexity and uncertainty of economic and social developments, spatial planning was shying away from ‘command and control’ systems and becoming more flexible. Finally, more actors were becoming involved in national spatial planning: in addition to national government institutions, municipalities, private developers, and citizen groups populated the policy arena. Notwithstanding these changes, institutional path dependency in spatial planning is high, and significant differences between countries remain (Nadin et al., 2018, 2021).

The critical comparison of national spatial planning systems in 12 European countries bound together in a volume edited by Reimer et al. (2014) had arrived at similar conclusions, but with some important caveats. Yes, many spatial planning systems switched from land-use planning to a more strategic and development-led approach, but very often spatial planning follows economic development and infrastructure planning, not the other way around. In some countries, the reorientation of spatial planning was accompanied by a political wave of decentralization and deregulation (e.g. Denmark and the Netherlands) which weakened planning at the national level but sometimes strengthened it at the subnational level. This analysis underlines that spatial planning systems and territorial governance are deeply intertwined. For this reason, a more recent typology combines the two (Berisha et al., 2021). It distinguishes between state/market-led orientations, on the one hand, and performative/confirmative orientations, on the other. The latter distinction follows Faludi (2000) and others who distinguish between systems that view planning as successful if spatial developments are in accordance with plans (conformance) and systems that view planning as successful if plans are taken into account when making land-use decisions (performance). The fifth type (misled performative systems) can be seen as an outlier (Cyprus, Malta, and Poland) but comes closest to market-led performative systems (Berisha et al., 2021, p. 192).

The geographic distribution of planning systems according to this typology is striking: the northern part of Europe falls into state-led systems (France, UK, and Scandinavia) and market-led neo-performative systems (central Europe sans Poland, and the Baltic states). Southern Europe (and Belgium) all have conformative systems (except the Balkans which are all described as proto-conformative). To get an idea of how national spatial planning systems have tried to control urban development, the remainder of this section recounts experiences within various planning systems throughout Europe.

3.4.2 Sweden and Denmark

Scandinavian countries have much in common. In general, they are prosperous and enjoy high employment, both on a global and European scale, and have strong welfare states (Esping-Anderson, 1990). Most Scandinavian countries have embraced an ecological perspective on urbanization, typified by promoting public transport and compact urbanization. All Scandinavian planning systems are state-led according to Berisha et al. (2021).

In Sweden, the national government supports transit-oriented development and decides on major transport issues, even though most spatial planning is carried out at lower tiers (Celioska-Janowicz et al., 2020; Nadin et al., 2018). This combination of centralized and decentralized tendencies sometimes creates coordination problems but has largely succeeded in curtailing sprawl, except for the proliferation of second homes. In Stockholm, despite strong planning institutions, second homes once built for intermittent use are often turned into permanent residences.

Like Sweden, Denmark also promotes transit-oriented development, adopting a national rule in 1989 requiring all new office space over 1,500 m² to be located within 600 meters of a rail station (Mazzoleni, 2021). Major political, administrative, and legal reforms in 2007 and 2011 resulted in an upheaval of the spatial planning system. At the national level, planning became aligned with the environmental ministry in which it was housed, which sometimes clashed with planning interests at the local level. Regional spatial planning was abolished, although economic planning did continue at this level (Damsgaard, 2014). While the national government still plays an important role in the Copenhagen capital region, municipalities gained much more freedom. One national regulation that did not change was the restrictive policy on out-of-town retail development; this was identified as a European best practice (European Commission, 2012).

3.4.3 Poland and Lithuania

After the collapse of the Soviet Union, Poland underwent a rapid economic transition to a market economy and established new international interdependencies, joining NATO in 1999 and the European Union in 2004. In this time of transition, the communist planning system was dismantled, and the free market became the guiding principle. An administrative reform in 1999 created a three-tier system with 16 regions/provinces, which could have effectively coordinated national and municipal planning. However, the regions were restrained by the dominant neoliberal ideology and national sectoral policies. Only local plans had a binding status, and municipalities were given insufficient time and capacity to develop them. In 2003 they were no longer even required (Halleux et al., 2012). Over time, Poland adopted more and more ideas and spatial concepts from the European Union: polycentric urban development, multifunctional rural areas, the improvement of transport, and the protection of nature (Cotella, 2014). Like the Czech Republic, Bulgaria and Slovakia, Poland levies an additional tax on greenfield development depending on the quality of the soil (Mazzoleni, 2021). In 2015, it also introduced new regulations to help deal with the problem that many areas had been zoned in the past as buildable.

However, these measures proved unable to slow suburbanization and sprawl, particularly in the capital region of Warsaw (Nadin et al., 2018, vol. 6). Indeed, about 80% of urban developments occur through a process where planning permission is granted to initiators on a case-by-case basis even if in conflict with the local plan (Cotella, 2014). At the local level, the low coverage of strategic plans and large number of ad hoc development decisions ‘exacerbates the spatial chaos’ (Rogatka et al., 2023). Furthermore, the 2015 reform proved too ambiguous to effectively curtail diffuse development (Kukulska-Kozieł, 2023). The tension between a clear desire to emulate leading European planning systems that allow for flexibility but a failure to implement this effectively in practice earned the Polish system the label ‘misled performative’ (Berisha et al., 2021), later toned down as ‘misunderstood performative’ (Berisha et al., 2023b).

Like Poland, the Lithuanian planning system and spatial development are closely linked to the collapse of the Soviet Union and entry into the European Union. In the interim, a new system was installed and is still being developed today. The shift to a market economy and injection of structural funds resulted in a development boom, particularly suburban housing, which then collapsed with the financial crisis (Bardauskienė & Pakalnis, 2011). Like Poland, the planning system proved ill-equipped to control urbanization. Not all municipalities had master plans up to 2009 and little attention was given to how projects should fit a long-term strategy, an important shortcoming given the shrinking population. The situation was exacerbated by an administrative reform in 2010 that reduced tasks at the regional level, including spatial planning, which intensified inter-municipal competition for development. The main strategic planning document is effectively the Comprehensive Plan of the Republic of Lithuania. This has made sustainable urbanization a priority, promoting (1) a polycentric urban system (metropolitan, regional, and local centres), (2) compact urban development, and (3) a hierarchy of urban centres and connectivity (Cotella et al., 2021). Although widely supported, the plan’s implementation remains a point of concern. In 2021, members of the ESPON SUPER team supported the Lithuanian government by reflecting on their situation by using similar experiences in Europe as an inspiration (Berisha et al., 2023a).

3.4.4 Italy and Spain

Traditionally, spatial planning in Italy has strong intellectual roots in architecture and urban design, making it the textbook example of the ‘urbanism’ (conformative) approach. The urban crisis of the 1970s and 1980s exposed the weaknesses of this approach: traditional planning instruments were unable to tackle blight in city centres, revitalize derelict industrial sites, or protect green areas. Strikingly, an estimated quarter of buildings constructed in Italy in the 1960–1980 period had no planning permission whatsoever—this figure was 70% in Calabria (Zanfi, 2013). Successive amnesties granted to homeowners of illegally constructed buildings did nothing to strengthen the status of the planning system. This was compounded by national fiscal reforms. In 2000, businesses were encouraged to reinvest their profits in Italy and a year later individuals who had evaded taxes by illegally storing it abroad were given amnesty. At the same time, the national government reduced local government funding. The influx of capital, coupled with greater municipal dependence on land development for revenue, resulted in a supply-side development boom.

Decades of reform followed to modernize the spatial planning system and tackle its rigidities and inertia. The reform of the Italian Constitution in 2001 reoriented spatial planning from ‘urbanism’ towards ‘territorial government’ (Lingua & Servillo, 2014, p. 128). The Constitutional reform also reallocated the task of coordinating interregional environmental and infrastructural issues to the national state, including urban regeneration programmes. However, this process of modernization is still hampered by political fragmentation and instability at the national level. Attempts to address the issue of uncontrolled urban development resulted in two government bills in 2012 and 2014 but failed to achieve a political majority (Mazzoleni, 2021).

Like Italy, Spain is usually placed in the urbanist/conformative approach which stresses conformance to a plan (Berisha et al., 2021; Nadin et al., 2021). And, like Italy, this does not always result in sustainable urbanization. As noted in the previous chapter, of all European nations, Spain converted the most land to urban use in the 2000–2018 period (Evers & Van Schie, 2019). Most of this development was concentrated in the period before the economic crisis, and most intensively in and near large cities and tourist areas. The crisis brought many projects to a standstill, resulting in abandoned construction sites, vacant new buildings and unbuilt land zoned for urban use: “…the mismatch between offer and demand seems to be the result of a combination of factors grounded on the financialization of the economy and speculative investments by regional/national banks and foreign investors rather than relying on demographic growth or real market demand” (Farinós Dasí et al., 2020, p. 6).

Part of this can be traced back to the peculiarities of the Spanish territorial governance and spatial planning system. To encourage economic development, it was proclaimed that land be appraised by its expected exchange value (e.g. development potential) rather than use value (e.g. as farmland), encouraging speculation (Hurtado & Ruiz, 2021). Since 1995, the private sector has been largely responsible for providing infrastructure and services at the local level and massive national and European funding was provided for highway construction. Given a low level of financial accountability for the costs of urbanization, municipalities could more easily opt for diffuse urban forms (Fernandez Milan & Creutzig, 2016). On the other hand, the 2004 Spatial Planning and Landscape Law and Law of Rehabilitation, Regeneration, and Renovation in 2013 provide tools to manage urbanization. Much of the funding for regeneration however has come from the European Union rather than the national government (Carpenter et al., 2020). Still, the relatively successful example of Valencia’s Huerta plan (preserving a belt of farmland) shows that, given the political will, it is possible to protect land on the urban fringe from development within the Spanish planning system (Farinós Dasí et al., 2020).

3.4.5 The Netherlands and Belgium

The Netherlands has a longstanding tradition of national planning. National spatial strategies have existed since the first one was drawn up in 1960. During the 1960s, the 1970s, and the first half of the 1980s, the main issue was to accommodate the booming postwar population in an orderly and efficient way. This was done by expanding the large cities and creating growth centres and new towns. Afterwards, the urban crisis and increasing European competition refocused attention on strengthening the core cities (de Klerk & Van der Wouden, 2024). National planning policy declined after 2000 (Zonneveld & Evers, 2014). By 2012, the only policy remaining was a ‘comply or explain’ rule called the sustainable urbanization ladder, mandating that all zoning plans granting new building rights justify the need for this development and, if sited on a greenfield, argue why no infill location was chosen. This rule was widely disregarded until courts began to strike down plans for noncompliance. Afterwards, it showed some signs of affecting urbanization and planning practice, arousing political backlash and the subsequent relaxation of the rule (Evers et al., 2020). Some outcomes of the more recent deregulation of urbanization policy are already apparent: 1996–2015 land-use data showed considerable diffuse urbanization in the western part of the country, including the (until 2012) protected ‘Green Heart’ of the Randstad. This did not primarily concern housing but commercial/industrial activities (Van der Wouden, 2021). Indeed, more homes were built in the existing urban fabric after the decentralization of planning (Claassens et al., 2020). At present, the convergence of urgent problems (e.g. housing affordability and climate change) has prompted a new cycle of recentralization, as evidenced in the publication of a national planning strategy with sustainability as its central theme (Denters, 2021; Ministerie BzK, 2019).

A well-known example of where a lack of intervention has produced diffuse urbanization in Europe is Belgium, the only non-Mediterranean country with a planning system classified as ‘conformative’ (Berisha et al., 2021). The ideological roots of this form of urbanization were laid out by the Catholic elite during the last decades of the nineteenth and the first decades of the twentieth century (Pagliarin & De Decker, 2018). The idea was that every Belgian worker should have access to a plot of land to build a house as a form of social emancipation and cultural conservatism (Evers & de Vries, 2013). The result was a laissez-faire policy and minimal spatial planning at all governmental levels, which can be read in the spatial structure. For example, Flanders is known for its lintbebouwing, building homes (and other facilities) alongside the rural roads until they form a strip or ‘ribbon’ (a characteristic of diffuse development in the morphological analysis described in Chapter 2). This urbanization mode was stimulated by the ‘fill-in’ rule that grants landowners the right to build a home between two others on a road. The contrast with the neighbouring Netherlands is striking: that country passed a law specifically forbidding this kind of development in the 1940s. More recently, the 1997 Spatial Structure Plan Flanders promotes concentrated urbanization. However, the legacy of prior designations of land as buildable has undermined its implementation. Planning is further hindered by a lack of cooperation by local governments. Still, some municipalities have taken the initiative to implement more sustainable urbanization such as Ghent (Claus et al., 2020).

3.5 European Union Interventions (Sectoral Policy and Meta-governance)

The European Union has no formal competence in the field of spatial planning: there is no EU masterplan and no planning directorate-general at the European Commission (Faludi & Waterhout, 2002). However, EU policies have such far-reaching impacts on planning (and this impact is growing) that some authors have argued that a de facto European spatial planning exists, just not in a very coordinated or explicit manner. The most spatially relevant policy fields are nature, environment, water, transport, regional economic and urban development, competition, and agriculture, although their importance and impact vary from country to country and region to region (Tennekes & Evers, 2023). One could, as Evers and Tennekes (2016) did for the Netherlands, reconstruct the EU’s implicit spatial strategy for urban development by interpreting and mapping out the impacts of its various policies.

The ESPON SUPER project identified 59 policies within 10 policy fields as potentially impacting urbanization (Cotella et al., 2020a). As an initial analysis, we can consider the kinds of instruments employed by these policies because this provides insight into their effects. Following the categorization by Bemelmans-Videc et al. (2011) we distinguish between sticks, carrots, and sermons. In this case, sticks refer to European legislation (directives, regulations) that can structure decision-making on urban development, usually by setting restrictions. Carrots refer to funding instruments that (under conditions) can affect the feasibility of development initiatives. Finally, sermons often concern non-binding agreements or the exchange of information and practices. Binding strategies have a hybrid character: they can function as sticks once agreed upon, but also act as frameworks working through discourse and organization (sermon) (Fig. 3.2).

Fig. 3.2

Distribution of EU policy types

Of the 59 policies affecting urbanization, those in the environmental/climate domain (the most numerous category) generally work through legislation (sticks), as did energy, maritime, and competition policy for the most part. The second largest category consists of policies falling under regional policy like the structural funds, which predominantly function through funding instruments (carrots). Interestingly, the instruments employed by policies with a close affinity to planning such as urban development, transport, and sustainable land use were mainly non-binding and voluntary, hence ‘sermons’ (Cotella et al., 2020a).

The remainder of this section will discuss some of the most salient EU policies affecting urbanization. The examples provided are not intended to be representative or necessarily the most important; instead, they are used as illustrations to provide an impression of the different avenues by which the EU affects urbanization.

3.5.1 Sticks/Legislation

Some authors argue that environmental policy has the greatest impact on spatial planning in the member states (Tennekes and Evers, 2023; Nadin et al., 2021), and by association, its power to control urbanization. Most of this takes the form of legislation and, hence sticks. A few prominent examples work through area-based designation. Natura 2000, for example, aims to ensure biodiversity through the conservation of natural habitats for flora and fauna. Designation of protected areas takes place through the domestic spatial planning system. Similarly, the Seveso directive mandates that spatial plans designate zones around hazardous materials, while the Floods Directive establishes a framework affecting land use in flood-prone areas, including possible restrictions of land use for development. All these policies spatially restrict urban development and are thus akin to urban containment strategies. Another example is the Nature Restoration Act, which is in the process of being ratified. In addition to protecting and preserving habitats, it includes provisions to increase natural areas, for example, in cities by imposing norms on tree canopy cover and percentage of green space. On the one hand, this should improve the liveability and ecology of cities, but on the other hand, it could complicate planning efforts to densify the existing urban fabric.

Finally, various stick-like policies affect planning processes rather than content. An example is state aid, part of the EU’s competition policy. It is common for governments to encourage urban regeneration with subsidies, tax breaks, or other means (e.g. selling land under market value) to create a positive business case. However, the EU Treaty stipulates that this is not allowed unless there are overriding public interests at stake. In practice, this means that governments must obtain permission from the European Commission beforehand. The implications for planning goals such as providing social housing and urban regeneration can be far-reaching (Tasan-Kok et al., 2013). EU rules on public procurement can also complicate delicate negotiations between local authorities and developers for mixed-use developments. Finally, the services directive and the ‘freedom of establishment’ enshrined in the EU treaty have made it more difficult for planners to conduct policies to control out-of-town retail developments (Korthals Altes, 2016).

3.5.2 Carrots/Subsidies

The EU provides funding instruments for a wide range of projects and programmes (such as regional and urban development, employment and social inclusion, agriculture, and rural development). Over three-quarters of this budget is managed in collaboration with national and regional authorities. For example, the implementation of the Europe 2020 strategy was primarily supported through the European Structural Investment Funds, which were sometimes used for urban development. These funds are managed by the member states through partnership agreements. Other funds (such as grants for specific projects concerning EU policies and contracts awarded through calls for tenders) are managed directly by the EU. The Cohesion Fund aims to reduce economic and social disparities and promote sustainable development by supporting member states whose per capita Gross National Income is under 90% of the EU average and the European Regional Development Funds. Much of this money is used for projects related to or affecting urbanization. Many encourage compact development, such as revitalization and regeneration and sustainable transport modes, but the funds have also been used in ways that stimulate diffuse development, such as highways and out-of-town business parks (van Ravesteyn & Evers, 2004). Additionally, EU agricultural subsidies can make it easier for young farmers to take over the business, rather than sell the land for urban development (May et al., 2019).

3.5.3 Sermons/Strategies

Various policy fields make use of strategies and policy guidelines, and sometimes these have a relatively obliging character due to their high political status. This can potentially affect urbanization even before their contents are translated into policy instruments. A few notable examples are the Europe 2020 Strategy and the European Green Deal. These strategies act as sermons that coordinate other policies towards a common goal.

Adopted in 2010, the Europe 2020 strategy set three mutually reinforcing priorities—namely smart, sustainable, and inclusive growth. It is a very broad framework impacting numerous sectoral policies of the EU and member states over a long time; hence its impact is quite indirect. Part of the Europe 2020 Strategy is the Roadmap to a Resource Efficient Europe (European Commission, 2011), which envisages a set of measures regarding land and soil, topics which are very relevant to urban development. Notably, it established the ‘no net land take in 2050’ target which essentially calls for a halt on all greenfield development. This has yet to be mandated in legislation (stick), but already various member states (e.g. France, Italy, Germany, Austria, Luxembourg, and Belgium) are anticipating its arrival and implementing similar policies.

The European Spatial Development Perspective (ESDP) is arguably the closest the European Union has come to drafting a spatial planning strategy (Committee on Spatial Development, 1999). It raises key territorial issues and suggests policy options to tackle them, some of which directly concern land-use planning. A section is devoted to curbing urban sprawl. Even without any binding force or budget, the ESDP has been influential in many member states and regions (Stead, 2009). A more recent example is the Urban Agenda which calls for limiting greenfield development (land take) and promotes polycentric development. It also provides local and regional recommendations for sustainable land use.

More recently, the aforementioned 2019 European Green Deal (EGD) aims to make the EU climate-neutral by 2050. It has acted as a framework for mobilizing many spatially relevant policy sectors, such as transport, energy, and nature. Significantly, the EGD has drawn up a ‘taxonomy’ of activities that are considered ‘sustainable’ and therefore eligible for EU funding (European Commission, 2020). In this way, this sermon-like intervention directly influences the carrots. But sermons can also influence sticks: as part of the EGD’s biodiversity strategy, the Soil Strategy for 2030 reiterates the European ‘no net land take in 2050’ (NNLT) target and announces that binding legislation is imminent. The 2023 legislative proposal for a Soil Monitoring Law (European Commission, 2023) has come short of obliging member states to achieve this objective but it does mandate policy infrastructure to support such an obligation in the future. If NNLT becomes a binding norm, this can have far-reaching consequences for planners, particularly those operating in member states with high urbanization pressure and within systems within the comprehensive-integrated tradition (Evers, 2024). Closer to planning, the EGD resurrected the German Bauhaus tradition, stimulating innovation in architecture and design through competitions, publications and events (European Commission, 2021).

3.6 Success of Interventions and Systems

The interventions discussed in this chapter are heterogeneous: they are drafted and implemented at different levels of scale in different contexts and circumstances. For this reason, any judgments about success should be made with caution. As a starting point, the SUPER intervention database was analysed to see if any statistical regularities could be discovered with respect to the success or sustainability of interventions. This exercise revealed that no significant correlation could be found between success/sustainability and the main attributes of interventions (e.g. location, scale, instrument) included in the database.

Given this lack of quantitative substantiation, a qualitative analysis was performed on the reasons given for the relative success/failure and (un)sustainability of interventions which were provided in the SUPER intervention database (usually done based on expert judgment). This revealed 24 determining factors, which could be grouped into 6 categories (Fig. 3.3).

Fig. 3.3

Intervention success factors

From this figure, it is clear that coordination and collaboration are associated with interventions that are almost successful or successful. One-dimensionality and market orientation have the opposite orientation. Interestingly, centralization and decentralization have comparable results, suggesting that both approaches can be equally as successful or as sustainable. Although the SUPER project did not discover guaranteed recipes for success, the many individual examples of interventions and their accomplishments included in the database can inspire policymakers. Examples include a national infill development programme in Luxembourg, permission to add extra floors in Malta, urbanization caps in coastal Spain, and fiscal rules in Italy and Estonia. Through the exchange of such information in reports, workshops, and other means, member states are learning from one another. This exchange can have a homogenizing effect in the long run, which can help to explain the gradual convergence of European planning systems (Nadin et al., 2018; Reimer et al., 2014). Finally, it is worth noting that policies are usually implemented as a package, so that it is difficult to untangle the effects of single policies (Bibri et al., 2020; Nelson et al., 2007).

Given that the success of interventions is so context-specific, one can ask whether some planning systems provide more fertile ground for sustainable urbanization than others. Again, it is very difficult to establish a statistically significant causal link between the composition of a planning system and its ability to control urban development. Nevertheless, the comparative research of Pagliarin (2018) on Barcelona and Milan as well as Terhorst and Van de Ven (1997) on Amsterdam and Brussels both find a relationship between strong planning institutions and more compact forms of urbanization. A broader study using ESPON data found that “the state-led systems and market-led neo-performative systems tend to guarantee a better capacity for public control of spatial developments” (Berisha et al., 2023b, p. 12). Yet another study attempted to rank the effectiveness of planning systems in Europe based on the ESPON COMPASS country reports compiled in 2016 and supplemented with interviews from international planning experts (Crince Le Roy, 2023). The conclusion was that the overall best-functioning systems were (in descending order), Finland, the Netherlands, Croatia, and Hungary.² Concerning the ability of systems to guide future spatial development, Hungary and Croatia emerged as winners. This of course does not imply that urbanization is more sustainable in these countries, only that the planning systems could—if this was set as a political priority—effectively be deployed to this end.

Finally, we can consider the effect of European policies. Based on an expert judgement analysis of the most relevant SUPER factsheets, these were generally seen as having a positive effect on sustainable urban development, but often the impact was indirect and weak (e.g. transport, energy, public procurement, and maritime). Unsurprisingly, environmental and climate policies were seen as having the most impact overall, but generally working indirectly. If only strong impacts are considered, urban and regional development policies are the most prominent (Fig. 3.4).

Fig. 3.4

Normative effect of EU policies

3.7 Conclusions: Spatial Planning Systems and Urbanization

Public interventions to define or guide the growth of human settlements is an age-old activity. Over the centuries, the reasons for doing this have changed as well as the technologies and instruments which are deployed. At present, one of the greatest challenges is to accommodate the demand for urban functions without undermining quality of life now or for the future generations and without destroying valuable ecosystems, cultural heritage, or remaining open space. Many of the examples presented in this chapter seek to do this in part. However, as we have seen, these interventions are always implemented within a specific institutional context: Copenhagen’s Finger Plan or London’s Green Belt cannot be simply transplanted to another city. Indeed, these cities are evolving and so too are the applicability and desirability of their own policies. Even the lessons distilled in this chapter are relative: what was deemed a recipe for success before (e.g. hard legal status, private-sector collaboration) may be seen as a liability later.

In this sense, our analysis is at most a snapshot in time. As institutions, planning systems evolve, and as these systems are asked to address different challenges, planning doctrines can change too. Still, path dependencies matter: the systems of the Scandinavian countries and the Netherlands and England have a long history, while that of Poland has a relatively short history, with Italy somewhere in the middle. The EU influence is relatively recent and less direct than national and local systems, but it is growing. More specifically, the implications of the EU’s ‘no net land take in 2050’ target have yet to be fully understood.

Given this, the route towards sustainable urbanization is varied. Being aware of the long history of interventions in various geographic, territorial, and institutional contexts in the past will help to draft the interventions necessary for the future. It is important to keep an open mind, even if not politically expedient or viable, because urban development is a long-term activity that spans electoral terms. One very useful method is to imagine different futures resulting from policy alternatives based on a combination of interventions and use this to ground current policy decisions. This is the topic of the next chapter.