Untangling the NSW Planning System: Why Building in New South Wales Feels So Complicated

By The Editor

If you’ve ever tried to lodge a development application in New South Wales — whether it’s a simple renovation or a multi-storey mixed-use project — you’ll know the feeling. Confusion, frustration, and often disbelief.
Why does it take six months to build a deck, but six weeks to build a granny flat? Why can one council approve a dual occupancy in 30 days while another takes nine months? And why does every planning pathway seem to contradict the one before it?

The truth is that the NSW planning system is both ingenious and infuriating — a web of overlapping legislation, policies, codes, and local plans that attempt to balance the needs of communities, developers, and the environment.
It’s a system built on good intentions, but one that often struggles under its own weight.

This article unpacks the layers, contradictions, and quirks that make NSW planning one of the most complex systems in Australia — and offers a clearer view of how it actually works beneath the surface.

1. The Planning Act: Where It All Begins

The foundation of everything in NSW planning is the Environmental Planning and Assessment Act 1979 (EP&A Act) — legislation that has shaped urban growth for more than four decades.

When the Act was introduced, it was revolutionary: it created a transparent process where environmental, social, and economic impacts had to be considered in every planning decision. But as NSW grew — and with it, layers of bureaucracy — the Act ballooned. What began as a framework for sustainable decision-making has become a dense ecosystem of instruments, clauses, and amendments that few can navigate without help.

Today, the Act supports a hierarchy of planning tools:

State Environmental Planning Policies (SEPPs) — which apply across NSW and deal with issues of state significance (like affordable housing or transport corridors).

Local Environmental Plans (LEPs) — council-specific rules that dictate zoning, height, floor space, and permitted land uses.

Development Control Plans (DCPs) — non-statutory guidelines that refine local design expectations, from setbacks to landscaping.

In theory, this hierarchy should create order. In practice, it often creates conflict. For instance, a SEPP might allow a boarding house on R2 land, while the local DCP discourages “incompatible multi-dwelling typologies.” Which rule wins? The SEPP, legally — but that doesn’t mean the local council will be thrilled about it.

2. The Pathways Problem: DA, CDC, or Complying Code?

One of the system’s defining features — and greatest confusions — is its multiple approval pathways.

There are three main ways to obtain planning consent in NSW:

Development Application (DA) — the traditional, council-assessed process that weighs merit, design, and community impact.

Complying Development Certificate (CDC) — a fast-track approval issued by private certifiers if a proposal strictly meets the State’s pre-set standards.

Exempt Development — minor works that don’t need approval at all, like a small deck or garden shed (subject to limits).

The idea was simple: separate the low-risk, rule-based approvals (CDC and Exempt) from the complex, merit-based ones (DA).
In reality, the boundaries blur constantly. A homeowner might discover that their “simple” addition can’t be CDC because of a flood overlay, bushfire zone, or heritage constraint. A duplex might qualify as CDC in one street but require a full DA just 50 metres away because of a local variation or floor space cap.

The CDC system — particularly under the Low Rise Housing Diversity Code — was meant to ease pressure on councils and encourage small-scale housing supply. But it also introduced a new level of technical rigidity. Miss one standard by a millimetre — say, 0.1 m on a rear setback — and your project is instantly ineligible.

It’s a digital age irony: the faster path often takes longer because the checklist is unforgiving.

3. Local Variations: 128 Councils, 128 Interpretations

NSW has 128 local councils, and almost every one interprets the planning system differently.

While LEPs and DCPs must align with state policy, each council writes its own local rules — leading to dramatic variations in what can and can’t be built. In one LGA, dual occupancies might be encouraged; in another, they’re effectively banned. Even the same type of development can face completely different design criteria — different minimum lot sizes, parking ratios, or landscaped area percentages.

This “localism” is both a blessing and a curse. On one hand, it allows councils to tailor planning to their communities. On the other, it produces an inconsistent, almost arbitrary development environment across Greater Sydney.

Consider a typical developer working across several LGAs: they must juggle dozens of DCPs, each written in a different structure, with different definitions and design controls. For architects, this means reinventing the wheel for every project. For homeowners, it means their neighbour’s dream home in the next suburb might be impossible on their own street.

4. The Politics of Planning

Planning in NSW is rarely just technical — it’s political.

Every major reform, from SEPP 65 (Apartment Design Guide) to the Transport-Oriented Development (TOD) Program, has sparked debate about who benefits and who loses. Local councillors often face pressure from residents opposed to change, while the State Government pushes for more housing and density.

This political tension leads to what many call “planning paralysis.” Councils hesitate to approve controversial projects. State agencies override them. Then councils push back with new controls or delays. It’s a constant tug-of-war between state-led growth and local resistance.

The recent rollout of Transport Oriented Development SEPPs (2024) illustrates this perfectly: a top-down attempt to unlock housing near train stations. While the goal is sound, many councils argue that it undermines local planning and infrastructure capacity.

The result? Confusion, legal challenges, and an inevitable adjustment period where the rules feel fluid.

5. The Assessment Maze

Once a DA is lodged, it enters the assessment maze — and the experience can vary wildly between councils.

Most DAs go through:

Pre-lodgement advice (optional but often critical)

Lodgement and fee payment

Referrals to internal specialists (heritage, flooding, traffic)

Public notification

Assessment officer review

Determination (either delegated or at a council meeting)

At each step, there’s potential for delay — missing documents, conflicting advice, or neighbour objections can reset the clock.
And while the statutory target might be 40 days, many DAs languish for months. Digital lodgement systems like the NSW Planning Portal were supposed to streamline this, but instead introduced new layers of verification, document standards, and user confusion. Ask any architect: uploading a DA now feels more like filing a tax return.

6. Consent Conditions and the Compliance Cliff

Even once you’ve achieved approval, the journey is far from over.

Consent conditions — those dozens of fine-print requirements attached to every approval — can make or break a project.
They might dictate everything from tree protection to traffic management, or require design amendments “to the satisfaction of Council’s Urban Design Officer.”

In many cases, the conditions phase is more complex than the approval itself. Developers must satisfy pre-construction conditions, obtain a Construction Certificate, then undergo critical stage inspections during the build — each step introducing the risk of delay, interpretation, or dispute.

This is where private certifiers enter the picture. Since the late 1990s, NSW has allowed private certifiers to issue approvals and inspections — a system designed to improve efficiency. But it’s also blurred accountability, with councils, certifiers, and developers often disagreeing over compliance interpretations.

The result is the infamous “compliance cliff” — where a project can stall, not because it was poorly designed, but because two authorities disagree on how a condition should be read.

7. The Legal Minefield

Inevitably, disputes end up in the Land and Environment Court (LEC) — one of the most active planning courts in Australia.

The LEC’s role is to interpret the planning framework, review council decisions, and ensure procedural fairness. It provides an essential check-and-balance, but its volume of cases also reveals a system prone to dispute.

Developers often appeal deemed refusals (when councils take too long to decide), while neighbours challenge approvals under judicial review. Even small projects can end up before a Commissioner — a costly and time-consuming exercise that adds uncertainty to the development cycle.

Over the years, the Court has produced an enormous body of case law interpreting everything from “character of the locality” to “reasonable amenity impact.” Ironically, this jurisprudence — while clarifying individual cases — has added another layer of complexity to an already dense system.

8. The Constant Reforms

Successive NSW Governments have recognised these challenges — and tried, repeatedly, to simplify them.

Major reforms since 2016 have included:

The NSW Planning Portal for online lodgements and tracking.

Consolidation of over 60 SEPPs into fewer thematic policies (Housing, Employment, Infrastructure, etc.).

The introduction of Design and Place SEPP (later withdrawn), then replacement with Sustainability SEPP.

Streamlining of assessment categories (e.g. fast-track housing approvals, TOD zoning reforms).

Proposed “One Digital System” linking NSW Planning with councils.

Yet each reform tends to create new complexity in the short term. Every update requires councils to amend LEPs, consultants to relearn codes, and applicants to re-interpret pathways. It’s the classic paradox: the more you try to simplify the system, the more complex it becomes.

9. The Human Side: Frustration and Fatigue

For architects, planners, and developers on the ground, the complexity isn’t abstract — it’s daily reality.

An architect might spend weeks resolving shadow diagrams or heritage impact statements, only for the goalposts to shift mid-assessment. A developer might spend hundreds of thousands preparing a DA, only to be refused for “excessive bulk and scale” — a subjective phrase that varies by assessor. Even certifiers, caught between the State, councils, and clients, face professional risk in interpreting shifting legislation.

This constant uncertainty leads to what many in the industry call “planning fatigue.” It discourages smaller builders and innovators from engaging with the system, concentrating development power in the hands of those who can afford the risk — large firms and institutional players. In effect, the system designed to ensure fairness can end up reducing diversity in who gets to build and create in NSW.

10. Towards a Smarter System

Despite the frustration, the NSW planning framework remains one of the most sophisticated and transparent in the world.
The challenge is not its intent — but its usability.

A smarter system would focus on:

Clarity over control: Fewer overlapping rules, clearer diagrams, and simpler definitions.

Digital consistency: True integration of the Planning Portal with council systems — a single, frictionless interface.

Predictable outcomes: Objective design standards that remove guesswork without sacrificing quality.

Proportionate assessment: More CDC-like fast-tracks for low-risk DAs, freeing councils to focus on complex projects.

Early collaboration: Encouraging pre-DA design review to avoid post-lodgement disputes.

These reforms aren’t radical — they’re practical. They recognise that complexity breeds cost, and cost stifles housing supply.
The State’s ambitious housing targets will only be met if the planning process becomes as predictable as it is protective.

11. The Future of Planning in NSW

The next decade will test the system like never before.
With population growth, climate adaptation, and housing affordability at crisis levels, the need for a functional planning system is existential.

We’re seeing the rise of data-driven planning — digital twins, AI-assisted assessments, and dynamic zoning models.
In theory, these tools could automate much of the administrative grind. In practice, they’ll only succeed if the underlying policy framework is consistent and logical.

Imagine a future where:

A homeowner enters an address into a single portal.

The system instantly identifies all relevant overlays, constraints, and approval options.

Architects design directly within the planning rules — with live compliance checks.

Approvals are verified algorithmically, not manually.

That’s not science fiction — it’s where the system is slowly heading. But technology can’t fix philosophy. As long as planning remains caught between political caution and practical necessity, reform will always feel one step behind the real world.

Conclusion: The Art of Navigating the Maze

At its best, the NSW planning system is a noble experiment: an attempt to balance individual ambition with collective responsibility. At its worst, it’s an exhausting maze that demands lawyers, planners, and consultants just to move one brick.

Yet those who work within it — the architects, developers, planners, and council officers — know that beneath the layers of complexity lies something essential: the blueprint of how NSW grows.

The system may be flawed, but it’s not broken beyond repair. What it needs is simplification, transparency, and trust — between state and local government, between council and applicant, and between the public and the profession.

Until then, building in NSW will remain as much an art as a science — a dance between ambition and regulation, creativity and compliance. And for those of us who navigate it daily, that’s both the frustration… and the fascination.