Brisbane 2032 Olympics: Why we don’t want to be world-class

Many of Europe’s world-class cities are overcrowded, suffer social discord and are under a tsunami of mass tourism, writes Mike O’Connor.

Mike O’Connor backs an Olympic stadium at Victoria Park, such as this design by Archipelago.

The danger inherent in asking everyone to have their say is that they will do just that, so in response to Premier David Crisafulli’s invitation, here is my contribution to The Great Olympic Debate.

Having previously described our Olympic bid as an act of ego-driven madness, it’s fair to say I’m not the Games’ most ardent fan, but I accept that there’s no turning back now and that it’s onwards and upwards to 2032.

First the stadium. When all the singing and dancing is done and the music stops, it will be announced that a new stadium will be built and it will be located in Victoria Park.

It will be in that section of the park that is closest to the Royal Brisbane and Women’s Hospital, and take advantage of the existing bus interchange adjacent to the hospital and the nearby Exhibition railway station, with a pedestrian tunnel or bridge built to link the station with the stadium.

The park has been one of the lungs of the city since it was gazetted in 1875, and this role and the right of the city’s citizens to enjoy it have to be respected.

Developers have been casting covetous glances in its direction for years, but the threat of the public outrage that would be triggered by any attempt to encroach upon it has kept it safe.

As long as the government and council don’t get greedy and try and use the stadium as an excuse to grab more of the park than is necessary, the political damage suffered by resuming public green space will be manageable.

If hyperbole could build sporting venues, then we’d be ready to host the Games tomorrow, so let’s take a breath.

There’s been talk of us maturing into a world-class city and mirroring some of the great European centres. Let’s forget all that. Many of Europe’s world-class cities are overcrowded, suffer significant social discord and are sinking beneath a tsunami of mass tourism.

We don’t want to be like that. Brisbane is a modestly sized city blessed with a subtropical climate with easy access to a magnificent coastline, and while we have suffered our share of stumbling, bumbling political ineptitude, is a wonderful place to live.

Europe’s world-class cities have their share of problems.

Some claim we have a small-town mentality. That is the whole point. Biggest is not best. Stadia and rock concerts do not define cities. Is a city with 10 arenas five times more liveable than one with two? Probably not.

There’s nothing wrong with having a small – or, in Brisbane’s case, modestly sized – city mentality. We don’t want to be the envy of the world. We want to enjoy what we have.

There seems to be a misplaced belief that if we build the right structures people will come from all over the planet and say, “Oh, look. A big stadium. Isn’t it marvellous!”

People will come here because we are uniquely situated in relative geographic isolation and have developed our own culture. We are so different from Europe and the UK as to be on a different planet, which is what is so bloody wonderful about the place.

To be sure, things could be better in the Sunshine State. The newly elected government has the job in front of it to repair the health system, control youth crime and attend to the disgrace that is the Bruce Highway, but none of this detracts from the fact that we are fortunate to live in place that would be the envy of the world if they knew about it, so let’s not get too excited at the prospect of becoming a world-class city. We are already there.

It is also misguided to suggest that if only we were like the rest of the world, if only we would grow up, life would be so much better. No it wouldn’t. It would be demonstrably worse.

When I was growing up in Brisbane, men wore hats and women wore hats and gloves, trams rattled down the street, Mum and Dad bought the weekly groceries with pound notes and shillings, and the City Hall clock towered over the city, so I’ve watched my city grow.

It will continue to expand and prosper and hopefully retain its charm.

I wish those tasked with overseeing the Games every success, but please stop talking about us becoming world-class.

I’ve seen a lot of the rest of the world. It’s a nice place to visit, but I wouldn’t want to live there.