Thomas Reid's long — and lonely — battle with An Bord Pleanála
Winning A Scene Lonely In Reid Award Reid' Of 'the Documentary From Thomas Battle Thomas The Film
Thomas Reid is tuned into talk radio these days.
Normally, he is more inclined toward music stations like Nova, '70s rock, his kind of tunes.
But the An Bord Pleanála story has him changing his habits. He listens to his battery-run radio set for some snippet of news on the beleaguered institution, and sometimes he nearly sees the chickens, heading home to roost.
When an item on the story comes on, he might pull out his tape recorder and press record, a practice that would be unknown to most people.
Over the years, he has grown accustomed to keeping a record of anything to do with planning, as if he was assembling pieces of a jigsaw.
Thomas Reid is a primary example of why public confidence is required in An Bord Pleanála (ABP). He represents the David who is supposed to be equal to Goliath before the law.
He never really had confidence in the board’s impartiality, but the current revelations have thrown up some practices that rang a bell with him and his long struggles against planning, as it affected his life.
Thomas lives on his 70-acre farm in the house where his father lived, and his father's father before him.
The holding hugs the busy R148 road between Leixlip and Maynooth in Co Kildare.
On the far side of the road sits the still waters of the Royal Canal.
Bordering his farm on one side is the exclusive Carton House resort. And on the other side, the bane of his life for the last 20 years, the computer chip giant, Intel.
In 2013, the High Court ruled that the Industrial Development Agency (IDA) was entitled to compulsorily purchase Thomas’ 70-acre farm.
The IDA claimed that it was in the national interest to secure a compulsory purchase order (CPO) for the farm on the basis of Intel’s projected requirement.
The court noted the international competition for mobile capital and jobs and concluded that the national interest should outweigh that of the individual.
“The need, never greater, to increase employment and generate business, demands that many sacrifices be made,” the judge ruled.
Thomas Reid was thus told to suck it up. Two years later, the Supreme Court reversed the ruling, noting that the IDA was engaged in “land-banking”, or storing up the land for some unspecified future use.
There was no provision in legislation for this so Thomas Reid was allowed to keep his farm.
The saga was captured brilliantly in the award-winning documentary film, . The film scoped both his character and lifestyle.
He wouldn’t be a fan of modernity: His home has no electricity; he cooks using a gas burner; he doesn’t possess a television or own a car.
He travels to Maynooth for his weekly shopping by bike. He leads a solitary life, with little domestic comforts and the transistor radio for company.
“My grandfather bought this house, I think it was in 1904,” he says.
The long battle to ward off the state from commandeering his holding took a toll.
“I wouldn’t trust too many people now,” he says.
A year after his Supreme Court win, Intel put in an application to expand their plant into the fields to the rear of Thomas’ holding. They wanted 30 acres and Kildare County Council granted the planning permission.
Thomas was peeved but didn’t think there was much he could do about it.
He was of the opinion that it was the applicant, rather than the merits of the specific case, that ensured planning permission. He objected and An Bord Pleanála examined his case.
The main investigation conducted by ABP to determine whether to grant or reject an appeal is a report on the planning application compiled by an inspector.
“The inspector turned up here on September 20, 2019, the day there was that climate protest,” Thomas remembers (the Greta Thunberg-inspired School Strike for Climate world protest).
Thomas spoke to the inspector, and the man went about his business.
The inspector recommended granting the permission and the board ruled accordingly.
But Thomas Reid had an itch.
His long, bitter experience had familiarised him with the planning process and he reckoned the board’s ruling was full of holes.
The only problem was he couldn’t get anybody to represent him. Then, through a friendly intermediary, he was introduced to solicitor Brian Harrington.
The subsequent judicial review did throw up some serious issues as to how the board went about its work.
In a judgement issued in 2021, Judge Richard Humphreys was scathing about the lack of professionalism that appeared to be available to a board making such a major decision.
One of the environmental aspects of the case involved the emission of ammonia.
The judge noted that ABP disagreed with the proposition that it should know what the appropriate emission standard or ammonia is.
Instead, ABP argued, it could rely on what the developer (Intel) said the standard was and that the county council had already assessed the material.
“But the council’s view is irrelevant because what is before the board is an appeal,” Judge Humphreys ruled.
“The notion of relying on other people’s judgements more generally is flawed and, if it were to be applied, would be an abdication of the board’s independent statutory role.
“Indeed, it is a circular argument — how can the board know that the developer’s advisers are in fact competent experts that can be relied on if the board doesn’t itself have, or have access to, equal competence and expert knowledge."
"It is the stuff of Challenger, Columbia, Grenfell Tower, and pre-crash financial regulation,” Judge Humphreys ruled.
“I don’t accept that the board would be complying with its critically important independent evaluative obligations if it took that approach, although I emphasise that I say that in the context of endeavouring to clarify the board’s obligations.
"I’m not finding that the board did take that approach here. Likewise, the board’s argument that it 'doesn’t have infinite resources' is facile and hollow.
"Developers don’t have infinite resources either, yet they manage to assemble teams of experts to deal with all technical issues.”
Despite such a scathing assessment, Judge Humphreys ruled on the substantive issue that the appeal be dismissed and the expansion could go ahead.
There was also another issue, one that resonated with the current controversy in ABP.
It turned out that one of the board members — the current vice chair Paul Hyde — requested of the inspector that he adjust his report.
The issue of requests or demands of inspectors to change their reports has come to the fore in recent months.
Inspectors compile reports and present them to the board of ABP with a recommendation to feed into the board’s decision.
The board is not obliged to accept the inspector’s decision but should give a reason when deviating from it.
In recent weeks, the has detailed cases where inspectors were asked to change reports, a practice that is regarded as highly dubious.
Last month, the trade union representing inspectors complained to management about the incidences in which they were asked to change reports or recommendations.
In the Intel case, an issue arose over discharges in the Ryewater river, which borders the computer giant’s compound and flows into the Liffey.
A question arose as to whether a study should be done to check whether four areas of Special Conservation in Dublin Bay might be affected by the discharge.
Mr Hyde related in an affidavit that he had a conversation with the inspector as to whether they could exclude the possibility of any likely significant effect on the Dublin Bay sites.
“On foot of this conversation, I had an expectation that the matter would be clarified by an amendment to the inspector’s report,” Hyde’s affidavit states.
“In the circumstances, I considered it reasonable to screen out the Dublin Bay sites, in that there was no possibility of likely significant effects on those sites and drew up a board order and board direction to reflect that, and, in light of my expectation of the clarification, noted agreement with the inspector.”
However, the inspector, despite the conversation with Mr Hyde, did not adjust his report; the reasons for not doing so are unknown.
Either the inspector neglected to make the adjustments or determined that his report was a full reflection of his work and would stand on that basis.
What unfolded was that the board made its decision as if the report had been adjusted, apparently unaware that this was not the case.
“Although the board order accurately reflects the board’s decision on the application and on the question of appropriate assessment, it does not contain a note explaining its difference in approach to that set out in the inspector’s report on the question of screening the four Dublin Bay sites,” according to Hyde’s affidavit.
The judge didn’t think so either and refused the application from Thomas Reid.
The question that arises is how could five members of ABP make their order, stating, as the minute for the meeting does, that they “generally accepted” the inspector’s report, when quite obviously they did not.
The five members included chairperson Dave Walsh and a question arises as to whether they actually read the inspector’s report because if they had they would have seen that they were not accepting it.
The planned expansion got the nod.
However, the legal challenge taken by Thomas Reid did provide an insight into the workings of ABP and the result was not pretty.
Judge Humphreys’ assessment pointed to a totally unprofessional approach to verifying the science as presented by one of the parties. And the failed attempt to have an inspector’s report adjusted raised other serious questions.
Thomas believes that his case should be seen in a different light due to the current controversy.
“It should be quashed over what is coming out now,” he says.
Notwithstanding that, any reopening of the case is highly unlikely. Ultimately, despite all the flaws, a high court judge did rule that it could go ahead.
Whether the case forms any wider review in the near future remains to be seen.
For Thomas Reid, the recent revelations confirm the kind of suspicions he has long had.
“I don’t trust them,” he says. His view of Intel is equally jaundiced.
“These lads think they can get away with whatever they want,” he says.
To be fair to all, the planning process in his case was endorsed by a judge after a complete review, the extent of which is obvious from Judge Humphreys’ detailed ruling.
For now, Thomas will continue to keep an eye on things. One of his recent recordings from the radio concerned an interview with junior minister, Peter Burke, who proposed that access to judicial reviews be tighter than currently is the case.
“That really got me going,” he says. “It made my blood boil.”
Without access to the courts, Thomas feels that the Davids of this world like himself are completely sunk.
For now, he will continue to monitor what is unfolding in An Bord Pleanála and see whether the possibility arises of a reopening of his case.
On the gate in the front of his property, there are faded handwritten notes and an allegation that supporting documentation to a planning application had not been supplied.
It’s as if the battles, as far as he is concerned, are not over and he will continue to make his stand.
He could have had a different life. He could have sold up, bought a farm elsewhere, made a very tidy profit, moved on to a life of comfort, free from worry or fear of conspiracy.
He has chosen otherwise.
Some might put it down to stubbornness, but that would be a disservice to his motivation.
Thomas Reid has chosen how to live by his values and fate and persistence have provided him with the means to do so.
His disposition might have in the past led some to foolishly believe that he was ill-equipped to stand up to powerful forces. Not any more.