From Tokenism to Shared Power: Institutionalising ‘People’s Plans’ and Bridging the Communicative Gap in Urban Planning

Urban regeneration processes are critical because they shape not only the city's physical landscape but also the social resilience of its communities. As Sendra and Fitzpatrick (2020) emphasise, meaningful community engagement in these processes is essential to prevent resident displacement and ensure that locals retain control over the future of their neighbourhoods. Ideally, instead of enforcing strict blueprints, local authorities should offer plans that act as a ‘seed of possibility’ for residents to develop their living environment. However, actual participation often falls short of this ideal. As Arnstein (1969) critiqued in her ‘Ladder of Citizen Participation’, institutional engagement often stalls at ‘tokenism’, where residents are heard but lack the power to ensure their views are acted upon. To go beyond this formalistic approach and encourage real participation, local authorities should shift from passive consultation to actively supporting community-led regeneration. This essay argues that local authorities can attain genuine engagement by legally endorsing grassroots ‘People's Plans’ and by adopting innovative methods to bridge the communication gap between technical experts and local residents.

One effective way to promote genuine engagement is for local authorities to formally recognize plans created directly by residents, such as People's Plan. A People’s Plan is an informal masterplan created by residents themselves, often with the help of citizen-hired experts like architects and financial analysts (Sendra & Fitzpatrick, 2020). These plans mark a positive change, allowing residents to actively imagine the future of their community by turning their daily experiences into practical suggestions. However, a significant gap still exists. Without active cooperation and legal recognition from local authorities, these visions risk becoming mere wish lists, easily sidelined by the bureaucratic machinery of formal planning.

The Carpenters Estate case in London shows how this gap can be closed. Faced with the threat of demolition, residents created their own ‘Community Plan’ with support from advocacy groups, offering a practical alternative approach for renovation and infill development. Drawing on Sagoe’s (2016) account, the capacity developed through this earlier community organising and the creation of a locally driven plan allowed residents to strategically use statutory planning mechanisms, ultimately leading to their designation as a Neighbourhood Forum. Crucially, this strategic mobilization established a real space where residents' previously marginalized stories could finally be heard and validated. This progression indicates that for genuine involvement, local authorities should actively adopt informal People’s Plans as a legitimate pre-statutory phase, serving as a crucial platform for meaningful listening.

While institutional recognition validates the fruits of self-organization, local authorities must proactively structure engagement processes to ensure residents act not as passive consulters, but as active co-designers capable of shaping the outcome. This change demands a basic shift in the role of planners within these authorities. As Schelings, Calixte, and Elsen (2020) argue, the role of the planner should shift from being just a technical designer to a co-designer who encourages participation. However, making this shift is difficult mainly because of the communication gap between the parties. A major obstacle here is the gap between the 'expert language' of blueprints and policy and the 'lived language' of residents’ everyday experiences. To overcome this, planners and local authorities should use what Star and Griesemer (1989) call ‘boundary objects’, tangible or intangible entities that are flexible enough to adapt to local needs yet strong enough to maintain a shared identity across different social contexts.

Evidence of this approach can be found in Cowie’s (2017) exploration of ‘performing planning’. In traditional consultations, technical maps often alienate residents because they don't capture the emotional and social nuances of a place. Cowie presents the use of theatre and performance as a boundary object. In this context, a play or performance acts as a translation device. It enables residents to express their emotional connection to the area in a narrative format they find comfortable, while also providing data that planners can interpret and include in formal strategies. When local authorities proactively organize such programs, moving beyond dull town hall meetings to innovative, interactive platforms, they can create a ‘trading zone’ where expert knowledge and local wisdom can be exchanged on equal footing. This affirms that residents' experiential knowledge is as valuable as the planner’s technical expertise.

In conclusion, for local authorities to truly involve communities in decision-making, they must break down the barriers of bureaucracy and professional exclusivity that often turn participation into a token gesture. Genuine engagement requires shifting from a 'decide-announce-defend' approach to one of co-production, in which strict legal rules do not suppress the community's creative visions for its area's future. This involves institutionalising grassroots efforts by legitimising ‘People's Plans’ and adopting innovative communication methods, such as performance-based tools, to create a transparent environment in which residents can navigate complex trade-offs. Ultimately, by enabling citizens to actively influence the strategic direction rather than merely responding to technical proposals, authorities can ensure that the neighbourhood's future is genuinely shaped by its residents.