The sport nobody explained

Bill, Tom and the Sport Nobody Explained

Bill and Tom were watching curling on the TV at the bowls club because someone had lost the remote and nobody wanted to admit they knew how to fix it. Dog was asleep under the table, which placed him ahead of most of the room in terms of judgment.

Tom watched two people sweep madly in front of a stone sliding across the ice.

“I know there’s a point to this,” he said, “but I’ll be buggered if I can tell what it is.”

Bill nodded. “That’s most public processes.”

Tom looked at him. “Curling?”

“No. Watching something serious happen without knowing the rules. You can see the activity. You can see people moving with purpose. You can tell there must be skill involved. But unless someone explains the scoring, the tactics, the sequence and what counts as a good shot, it all looks faintly ridiculous.”

Tom watched another stone glide gently into a cluster of stones. Several people in matching shirts looked pleased. Nobody in the bowls club knew why.

“That’s the problem,” Bill said. “People inside a process know the game. They know the field, the clock, the scoring system, the penalties, the language and the moves that matter. People outside the process often only see motion. A notice here, a meeting there, a report uploaded, a deadline announced, a reassuring statement made. It looks like something is happening, but they don’t necessarily know what it means.”

“And then the insiders get annoyed when people ask basic questions.”

“Of course they do. To insiders, the rules are obvious. That’s the curse of knowing them. It’s like Americans watching cricket or Australians watching gridiron for the first time. You can be impressed by the athleticism and still have no idea why everyone has stopped, restarted, appealed, reviewed, measured something, changed ends or celebrated a thing that looked like nothing.”

Tom grinned. “Or Aussie Rules. Try explaining holding the ball to someone who hasn’t grown up with it.”

“Exactly,” said Bill. “Half the rules are written down and the other half seem to live in the nervous system of the umpire. Public processes can feel the same. The people inside them think they are transparent because the rulebook exists. But the outsider does not just need the rulebook. They need someone to say: this is the game, this is where we are, this is what matters, this is when you need to act, and this is what a useful move looks like.”

Dog opened one eye, judged the discussion procedurally weak, and went back to sleep.

Tom leaned back. “So the issue isn’t that people are stupid.”

“No,” said Bill. “It’s that they are being asked to respond to a process they have not been taught to read. They may understand the objective in broad terms. Stop the thing. Approve the thing. Get treatment. Buy the house. Defend the claim. Object to the proposal. But the rules, timing and tactics are often invisible. And if you don’t know the rules, you waste energy shouting at the scoreboard.”

“So what should the insiders do?”

“Explain the sport before the match is half over. Not with a document dump. Not with a portal. A plain map. Where are we? What happens next? Who decides? Who only advises? What documents matter? What is the deadline? What can still be influenced? What evidence counts? What happens after the decision? That is not favouring one side. That is letting people understand the contest they have been invited into.”

“And the outsiders?”

“They need to stop assuming enthusiasm is enough. Learn the rules early. Ask boring questions. Get the process in writing. Find the decision criteria. Aim at the things the system is allowed to consider. Don’t just say the game looks stupid. Work out how points are scored.”

On the screen, someone swept harder than seemed medically sensible. The stone curled slightly, clipped another stone, and stopped exactly where it was apparently meant to stop. The players cheered. The bowls club remained unconvinced.

Bill pointed at the screen. “There. Perfect example. To them, that was skill. To us, it looked like vigorous housekeeping.”

Tom nodded. “And that’s public participation?”

“Too often. The system is busy sweeping, sliding and congratulating itself, while the public is still trying to work out why everyone is standing on ice.”

Dog snored.

Bill finished his tea and stood up.

“If institutions want trust, they need to explain the game. If the public wants influence, it needs to learn the rules. Otherwise one side keeps saying ‘we followed the process’ and the other side keeps saying ‘what bloody process?’ And by then, the stone has already stopped.”

What actually matters in a Queensland DA process

In a development application, the question is not usually “do people like it?” The question is whether the application should be approved, refused, or conditioned under the planning framework.

In Queensland, the formal DA process is structured around stages: application, referral, information request, public notification and decision. Not every DA goes through every stage, but that is the basic field of play. The DA Rules set out how applications are lodged, assessed, decided and publicly notified.

The matters that usually carry weight are things like:

Planning scheme fit - whether the proposed use fits the zone, local plan, overlays, codes, strategic outcomes and intended character of the area. This is where “why here?” becomes a planning argument, not just a slogan.

Assessment benchmarks - the actual tests the assessment manager must assess against. Under the Planning Act, assessment benchmarks include things like codes, standards and zone or precinct intent; they are not simply personal opinion or private circumstances.

Impact assessment scope - if the application is impact assessable, the assessment can consider the benchmarks and other relevant matters, but not a person’s personal or financial circumstances. That matters. It means the argument has to be framed around land use, impacts, evidence, need, risk, compatibility and public interest, not “this will affect me personally” in isolation.

Amenity impacts - odour, dust, noise, lighting, hours of operation, visual impact, buffers, sensitive receptors, and whether the proposed controls are credible, enforceable and sufficient. This is one of the main places ordinary community concern can become proper planning evidence.

Traffic and roads - not just “more trucks are annoying”, but haulage routes, turning movements, pavement impact, road safety, school buses, overtaking opportunities, intersection capacity, heavy vehicle interaction with existing traffic, and whether the DA has properly assessed those impacts.

Environmental risk - air emissions, stormwater, contaminated runoff, waste handling, ash or residue management, feedstock variability, water quality, soil impacts, biosecurity, hazardous materials, and cumulative effects. For a waste or biosolids-type proposal, this is not side garnish. It is one of the main courses.

SARA matters - where state interests are triggered, SARA is the single state lodgement and assessment point and applications are assessed against the State Development Assessment Provisions. Council may still be the assessment manager, but SARA’s referral role can be central where state interests are involved.

DETSI / environmental authority matters - if the activity is an environmentally relevant activity, an environmental authority may be required. DETSI maintains the public register for environmental authority and enforcement-related records, which can be relevant when testing whether environmental controls are real, trackable and enforceable.

Adequacy of technical reports - whether the modelling, assumptions, baselines, monitoring plans, mitigation measures and proposed operating envelope actually answer the question being asked. A glossy model is not evidence of safety if it models the wrong thing, at the wrong scale, with weak assumptions and no useful uncertainty.

Conditions and enforceability - whether likely impacts can genuinely be managed by conditions. Under the Planning Act, conditions can be imposed, and in code assessment refusal may depend partly on whether non-compliance can be solved by conditions. In impact assessment, the decision-maker may approve, approve with conditions, or refuse.

Public submissions - a properly made submission needs grounds and the facts and circumstances relied on to support those grounds. That is the bit people often miss. “I object” is a sentiment. “I object because the odour assessment does not demonstrate compliance at sensitive receptors under credible worst-case feedstock and weather conditions” is a submission starting to play the right sport.

Appeal position - properly made submissions matter because appeal rights can depend on them. The Planning Act notes that submitter appeal rights require a properly made submission, and eligible submitters may appeal certain approvals to the Planning and Environment Court for impact-assessable parts of an application or variation requests.

Things people think matter, but often carry little weight

This is the cruel bit of the sport. Some things matter emotionally, socially or politically, but carry little formal weight unless they are translated into planning terms.

“Nobody wants it here.”
That may matter politically, but in the DA process it has to become evidence about incompatibility, unreasonable impacts, unacceptable risk, poor site selection, conflict with planning intent, or inadequate mitigation.

Petition numbers.
A petition may show concern, but 500 weak objections do not automatically beat one properly evidenced planning submission. Grim, but true.

Property values.
Usually weak unless tied to recognised planning impacts. “My property will be worth less” is much weaker than “the use creates unresolved odour, noise, traffic and land-use conflict affecting rural residential amenity.”

Personal circumstances.
The Act expressly excludes personal or financial circumstances from certain assessment considerations. That does not mean human impacts are irrelevant; it means they need to be framed as broader planning impacts, not private hardship alone.

Distrust of the applicant.
Distrust by itself is weak. Evidence of poor assumptions, missing controls, vague commitments, non-compliance history, unenforceable conditions or inadequate monitoring is much stronger.

“It is a waste facility and waste is bad.”
Too blunt. The better argument is about the specific waste streams, feedstock variability, emissions, residues, odour, traffic, water pathways, regulatory controls, failure modes and whether this site is suitable.

“It is first-of-a-kind, therefore dangerous.”
Again, too blunt. The stronger version is: first-of-kind status increases uncertainty, so the DA must demonstrate operating reliability, credible contingency planning, tested emissions performance, enforceable limits, clear feedstock controls and conservative risk assessment.

“The trucks will be annoying.”
Weak. Translate it: heavy vehicle volumes, haulage routes, road geometry, pavement condition, cumulative traffic, school bus interactions, safety, travel time, overtaking, intersection capacity and maintenance responsibility.

“Council should just say no.”
Satisfying, but not useful by itself. Council needs reasons that survive the planning framework and, if necessary, the Planning and Environment Court.

“The community was not listened to.”
This can matter, but only if tied to process failure, inadequate notification, unavailable documents, insufficient time, failure to consider submissions, or procedural unfairness.

“The applicant will make money.”
Usually irrelevant. Profit is not the problem. The planning question is whether the proposed use is acceptable on that site, under those conditions, with those impacts.

The blunt version is this:

The DA process does not score passion directly. It scores relevance, evidence, timing and fit with the statutory tests.

That is the bit people need to understand before the clock starts.

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