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National parks and coastlines can be over-protected as desolation repels visitors and day trippers

This article was originally written for The Sydney Morning Herald on February 12, 2015.

Sometimes rich people try to build things in public places to keep poor people out. Other times, they try to stop things being built in these same areas to achieve similar ends.

Development plans for Point Nepean National Park, signed off last year in the Napthine Government's dying days, seem to be squarely in the former category.

The $40 million deal handed over a 64-hectare area of park, including quarantine buildings dating to 1852, to private developers planning a luxury hot springs resort.

As The Age recently reported, the new Labor Government has made a commitment to undo the 50-year lease granted to the developers, following a concerted campaign by locals to dump the resort proposal.

It looks like the right call. But, in rubbing out the developers' plans, the Government should be wary of being co-opted by those wealthy and powerful local campaigners who often give the impression they would prefer that nothing is ever built or upgraded at Point Nepean.

When I visited Point Nepean last year I found this beautiful strip of sandy coastline, with sweeping views to the heads, was virtually empty. Many of the park's historic Quarantine Station buildings were were either locked or empty. Safety tape was strewn across the steps down to the beach.

The scene of a fierce and ultimately successful campaign by locals, environment groups and the Bracks Government to prevent it being sold by Canberra was now populated by a few solitary dog walkers. It was desolate and uninviting. I suspect that's just the way many of the locals like it.

Figures provided by Parks Victoria show that despite its breathtaking landscape, proximity to Melbourne and gradual efforts by Parks Victoria to improve facilities, yearly visitation to Point Nepean is a little over one-tenth that of the neighbouring Mornington Peninsula National Park.

Why is this? One of a number of reasons could be that whenever any significant attempts are made to attract people from beyond the Peninsula to Point Nepean, a wellspring of local opposition instantly appears.

When a relatively small blues music festival was held at the site in 2007 and 2008, Kate Baillieu, a Save Point Nepean figurehead and Portsea identity, complained of festival-related "traffic jams".

"I suspect that people attending will be much more interested in the performers at the concert than they will be in the park," she said at the time. "You have to ask: what is the value of holding an event like this, is it really an appropriate activity for this site?"

The only Point Nepean event that seems to be immune from this kind of criticism is the annual polo match, held in the park every January.

All this raises the uncomfortable question: Was the battle to save Point Nepean just a ruse to preserve one of the state's most beautiful places as a largely secret province of the few, to the exclusion of almost everyone else?

The possibility that some public campaigns supposedly fought along environmental lines may in reality be attempts by one social group to shut the gate on another has been something I have pondered since my time working as an adviser for former Labor Environment Minister, Gavin Jennings.

In fact, I can remember the day I first started to wonder. I had agreed to meet members of the Friends of the Prom on behalf of the minister.

The members were upset about developments being proposed by Parks Victoria at the Tidal River camp ground. These upgrades turned out to be the conversion of around five unpowered campsites to powered sites.

I was surprised such a minor change was causing so much angst in the group and asked them why powered sites were a problem. After dancing around the issue, one member explained.

"More powered sites mean more people can bring stereos and bar fridges," he said.

And that's when the penny dropped for me. I can only assume they didn't want bogans coming to their Prom, drinking UDLs and playing their Greatest Hits of the 90s CDs.

I'm the first to voice my displeasure when the serenity of a quiet camping trip is invaded by the selfish predilections of others. But I also understand that when you choose to enjoy public spaces you also have to accept that you'll share it with other people, some of whom will not be like you.

Everyone, including environment groups, need to realise that visitation is a weapon in the fight to preserve the environment, not a threat. Doesn't it benefit the conservationists' cause if as many people as possible, including the bogans, get to see the places they are trying to preserve?

This very point was recently made by a group of Australian environmental and tourism experts. They argued that, in the face of a slow decline in visitation to National Parks around the world, attracting more people was now the key to protecting biodiversity.

"We need people in parks, because people vote and parks don't," was their blunt message.

For similar reasons Labor governments, which have a long history of joining efforts to save significant places such as Point Nepean, should also be wary of inadvertently being drafted into environmental campaigns that ultimately have the effect of dissuading their natural constituency from accessing parks, and developing an interest in their future.

It's not enough that areas are simply protected. The manner in which they are protected must be done in a way that promotes access and preserves environmental values.

And if that means blues festivals at Point Nepean and a little Nickelback at the Prom, that's a price we should all be prepared to pay.

Read the original article here.