The other day my PC lock screen randomly showed me an image of the pyramids of Giza, those burial sites that have turned into some of the biggest income-generators for modern-day Egypt. Seeing that picture made me think of infrastructure and how the endeavours that it generates can be world-changing. Those pyramids helped cast my mind to some isolated parts of the upper South Island and got me, as is my norm, cogitating.

You see, recently my wife and I spent a few days tootling around the new Tasman Great Taste Cycle Trail. I have to admit that we weren’t travelling by bike, but the route we chose did follow much of this latest addition to New Zealand’s cycle paths.

As we travelled, as one might expect at this time of year, we encountered dozens of that iconic class of creature – the active elderly. These septuagenarians were all astride that great enabler of an active dotage – the e-bike. It was heartening (and, I might say, inspiring) to see these individuals giving a resolute middle-finger to the impacts of age and enjoying all that our fine country has to offer.

One of our interludes was spent at Lublow’s Leap, a family farm dating back some 120 years that has embraced diversification and seen the advent of the cycle trail as a great way to find alternative revenue streams. The Great Taste Trail crosses over the Baton River on a purpose-built swingbridge right next to their farm and riders pass the Lublow’s front gate on their ride.

Not ones to look a gift bike in the mouth, our hosts invested in building a resource that is eminently useful to riders – a farm implement shed does double duty as a bike repair location, a water-bottle filling point and a chance to borrow some hot water and make oneself a cup of tea or coffee.

In addition, they have repurposed some historical cottages dotted around the farm to provide low-key accommodation for weary riders. Finally, alongside other people involved in the trail and local residents, they have created a pictorial catalogue of the history of their rural idyll, telling the stories of the settlers and all their trails and travails.

It’s absolutely the sort of thing that we should be supporting in this country – take a core piece of infrastructure that with prescience was funded by central and local government, and add a good dose of entrepreneurialism from the locals. It is, I might suggest, a grassroots approach towards public/private partnerships.

As we drove, we were heartened to see that, beyond a few warning signs ensuring drivers knew there were likely to be cyclists on the road, there was little in the way of health and safety gone mad. There were no segregated cycle lanes. No special traffic lights to control who should give way to whom at intersections and narry a danger sign even at the points where an errant cyclist, riding off the side of the road, could find themselves tumbling down a steep cliff. What we saw was an utterly pragmatic take on things – a kind of “the users of this trail aren’t idiots and hence we should treat them as if they have some common sense” approach.

I’m hopeful, although doubtful, that the various authorities are similarly pragmatic when it comes to the other parts of the infrastructure that make up the Great Taste offering. Or do they obsess over minutiae which only adds to the costs and reduces the viability of these sorts of thing? Do they look at the greater good and temper their need for permits, consent and compliance within the context of infrastructure that builds the viability of an isolated community with few economic levers to pull?

As I “borrowed” some Wi-Fi from the proprietors of Lublow’s Leap and drank a cup of coffee I made myself at the desk in the corner (“Donations, please, and leave your dirty cups to be taken to the dishwasher”) I couldn’t help but think that this is exactly the sort of grassroots initiative that, when paired with other entrepreneurial endeavours and a dose of seed funding from public agencies, can fundamentally change a district.

It seems to me (noting that I am of the middle-aged, male demographic that often has a keen sense of the validity of their own opinions) we’ve gone overboard on regulation in this country and, in the process, have virtually ensured that good ideas have a hard time getting off the ground.

I’m fairly certain that the ancient Egyptians didn’t have a consents officer inspecting the placement of every stone that went into the pyramids. Similarly, we should have an appropriately light level of control over initiatives such as those at Lublow’s Leap.

Ben Kepes

Ben Kepes is a technology evangelist, an investor, a commentator and a business adviser. Ben covers the convergence of technology, mobile, ubiquity and agility, all enabled by the Cloud. His areas of interest extend to enterprise software, software integration, financial/accounting software, platforms and infrastructure as well as articulating technology simply for everyday users.

1 Comment
  • I live my life according to many maxims. One of my favourites is ‘it is easier to ask for forgiveness than it is for permission’

    I agree entirely, we have far too many people in the ‘permission’ business (the can’t do people) who stifle the initiatives of the ‘want to do/can do’ people.

    A light regulatory touch underpinned by some core principles & firm guardrails which are well enforced is the way forward.

    In much the same way as a country can’t tax itself to prosperity, neither can a country regulate & control its way to prosperity.

    All it does is crush the creative spirit of the risk takers & the productive.

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