Tony Scott, formerly City of Durham Planning Officer, worries about the small city's future as the university grows larger still. Will Durham become too big to be truly Durham

DURHAM university’s planned expansion has been well publicised in recent months, yet I fear that the groundswell of public outrage will have little impact on the university’s strategy. The days of meaningful public participation in town planning and the conservation of historic places are sadly – and worryingly – long past.

Today, it is more often the case that worked up proposals are announced and comment is invited, whereas in the 1970s and 1980s, when I was a City of Durham planning officer, we were encouraged to truly engage with communities before flesh was put onto the bones of the plans.

The announcement that more and more students want to take degrees at Durham augurs well for our university, but it is not a permit for mass expansion.

Durham is a small city. Its historic core is domestic in scale. Its medieval street pattern helps define the context for the cathedral and castle. It helps us understand the geography and geology of the peninsula and its significance within the loop of the river Wear.

It is the heart of the historic city that will eventually break under the strain and pressure of increased development.

The castle and cathedral’s designation as a World Heritage Site in 1986 followed strong support from a number of organisations including the Historic Buildings Council on which I served at the time.

The Department of the Environment then set up what became known as the “Durham Working Party” which considered the impact of increased numbers of residents and visitors upon heritage sites and historic towns. A national conference was held by the English Tourist Board following detailed casework and deliberation.

I recall that in France around that time the city of Strasbourg placed on its peripheral motorway junction an illuminated sign informing motorists when all the city’s car parks were full and indicating to them alternative towns where space was still available.

Historic towns and cities have a capacity beyond which, at best, life becomes extremely difficult for residents and visitors and which, at worst, the very fabric begins to break down. In Durham in the early 1960s, there had been a proposal to demolish one side of Silver Street and set the buildings back, although their upper floors were to overhang, so that traffic, including double-deck buses, could travel in each direction simultaneously!

In the much more promising times of the mid-1970s, buses and general traffic were prohibited from Durham Market Place reflecting the overall desire of Durham residents to have a safer, healthier and more comfortable city centre.

This change of attitude led to much reflecting on the good husbandry of the city as a whole and the care of its historic character, all of which helped lead to the national and international recognition of the World Heritage status.

But how can we work out what is an acceptable capacity in a small city like Durham? How can we measure discomfort and inconvenience and the negative impact on the physical fabric of places before it is too late? How do we ensure that our green spaces and natural habitats are better safeguarded? How do we ensure that this small historic city with a big impact remains primarily a town for its residents but at the same time sustains the undoubted benefits it gains by having a vibrant university?

These are the questions that have come to me as I’ve heard the public’s voice crying out against the university’s expansion plans.

It is like someone in a privileged position has graciously invited me to dinner at their home. The invitation is just for me and it is going to be an intimate affair as we are going to dine in their study.

I am very excited although a little nervous. I tell my close friends who jealously want to know if they can be invited.

So I ring my host and say there’s now a little group which would love to come to dinner. Perhaps a little reluctantly, the host accepts that dinner will be served in the dining room where’s the room for no more than a dozen extra places.

My close friends are now so delighted they simply cannot resist telling their relatives and colleagues. Suddenly, there are scores more people wanting to join what started as an intimate dinner for two.

So I again ring the host. He exclaims that it is really quite impossible to fit so many in, but I suggest that there are lots of ways this hurdle can be cleared. If we carefully remove the sofas and other items of furniture, we could perhaps fit in another 20 or so.

If he takes out the end wall or extends his home beyond the French windows, I feel quite

certain we could accommodate another hundred or so eager dinner guests…

The phone goes dead before I can hear his response to my suggestions. I wonder why.

Is this the sort of invitation that the growing university is kindly offering to the people of Durham?

Tony Scott was the City of Durham Planning Officer from 1973 to 1989