Auckland’s trees are disappearing – and no one is stopping it

2026-03-19 - 16:03

Opinion: A recent prosecution in Papakura illustrates how easily Auckland’s urban trees can be lost. In 2024, a developer removed two mature street trees – photinias estimated to be around 60 years old – after being told by Auckland Council that the trees were not protected. The trees were later found to be on council land, and the developer was prosecuted. The incident highlights several systemic problems in how trees are managed and protected in the city. First, the trees were located on council property. A standard site survey, typically undertaken as part of development due diligence, would have clearly shown their position. Instead, the developer relied on a phone enquiry to council. The council planner in turn relied on the council’s GIS mapping system or aerial imagery, which does not accurately record individual tree locations. Council staff should not rely solely on these tools when providing advice of this kind. A developer should instead have been directed to obtain a site survey to confirm the exact position of the trees. The incident also highlights another growing issue: the deregulation of the arboriculture industry. Tree removal is increasingly carried out by contractors with little or no formal arboricultural training. In many cases these operators act simply as ‘hired chainsaws’, undertaking removal work without considering alternative management options, or providing professional advice. Since the National-Act government removed councils’ ability to set general tree protection rules in urban areas in 2012, Auckland’s urban forest has been steadily disappearing. The effects have been dramatic. Since the removal of general protections, it is estimated that more than 270,000 large trees on private property in Auckland have been cut down as of 2021. In some suburbs, Auckland Council surveys have shown that over 60 percent of the urban forest has disappeared. Today, the primary planning tool available to protect significant trees is Schedule 10 of the Auckland Unitary Plan, known as the Notable Tree Schedule. This schedule identifies individual trees or groups of trees that are considered exceptional based on strict criteria such as heritage value, landscape significance, rarity, ecological importance, or outstanding size and age. A 120-year-old pōhutukawa tree was chopped down in Grafton in 2021 – just hours after former Auckland mayor Phil Goff unveiled a climate tax to plant mature native trees in urban parts of the city. Photo: Mark Lockhart The Notable Tree Schedule was never intended to provide protection to large numbers of trees across the region, it was created to capture a very small number of exceptional trees. It cannot replace general tree protection and won’t provide protection for Auckland’s remarkable urban forest. In theory, Schedule 10 should provide robust protection for the approximately 7000 outstanding trees or groups of trees. Once a tree is listed, removing or significantly altering it requires resource consent and strong justification. In practice, however, the system is failing. Auckland Council has not added a single new tree to the Notable Tree Schedule since 2015, despite hundreds of nominations. In 2021, the environmental advocacy group The Tree Council was forced to seek a judicial review to compel the council to assess hundreds of nominated trees that had been awaiting consideration. The council began work on Plan Change 113, which was intended to add many of these trees to the schedule. However, under pressure from central government signalling further reform of planning laws, the plan change was withdrawn. As a result, the backlog remains unresolved and Auckland continues to lose trees that might otherwise qualify for protection. The most visible consequence of this regulatory vacuum is the removal of large mature trees that would have been protected before 2012. To make matters worse, previously if a significant tree was nominated for scheduling, it would have been protected under the general tree protection rules. Since the removal of these rules, a tree can now be removed without consent if it has been nominated but not yet assessed and potentially scheduled. One striking example was a large pōhutukawa on Khyber Pass Road, with a canopy spanning roughly 20m. The tree clearly met the criteria for scheduling, yet it had never been identified by council and was removed by a developer. Prior to the legislative changes, it would have been protected through district plan rules requiring assessment before removal. Administrative failures have also played a role. A mature pōhutukawa in Mt Eden was mistakenly omitted from the notable tree register during the transition from the former district plans to the Auckland Unitary Plan. Only legal action and an interim injunction brought by The Tree Council forced the council to reinstate the protection that the tree had previously held. Even when trees are formally protected or replacement planting is required through resource consents, follow-through has often been weak. In one case, Auckland Council consented to the removal of a large scheduled melia tree in 2006 on the condition that several replacement trees be planted, including one 6m tall at the time of planting and all to be “maintained thereafter”. Today those replacement trees have either died or been heavily clipped into hedge-like forms, diminishing their ecological and visual value. The episode highlights a persistent issue: conditions are imposed, but monitoring and enforcement are often absent. Public tensions around tree removal reached a peak in 2019 with the 245-day Canal Road protest in Avondale, where residents opposed a developer’s proposal to remove 52 mature native trees on private land. The protest resulted in arrests and a significant police presence, yet ultimately the trees were removed. The site, once a rare pocket of mature green space in a rapidly intensifying suburb, was lost. More recently, the treatment of trees planted as part of the 2011 Eden Park redevelopment illustrates another gap between policy and practice. Pōhutukawa and titoki trees planted throughout the site as consent conditions were crudely ‘topped’, destroying their natural form and reducing their shade and amenity value. The lack of acknowledgement from those responsible highlights how poorly understood good arboricultural management remains, even where trees were required through the planning process. These examples illustrate a broader problem: the system designed to protect urban trees is only as effective as its implementation. The irony is that the benefits of mature urban trees are well documented. Larger trees provide the greatest ecosystem services: they store carbon, moderate extreme heat, reduce stormwater runoff, improve air quality and provide shade and habitat. They also contribute significantly to human wellbeing, with numerous studies linking access to green spaces and mature trees to improved mental health. Yet New Zealand continues to treat urban trees as expendable. Other major cities have taken a very different approach. Brisbane has approximately 44 percent canopy cover. Melbourne currently sits around 22 percent and has set a target of 40 percent by 2040. New York City has about 21 percent canopy cover, while London has around 21 percent with a target of 31 percent by 2050. Auckland’s canopy cover sits at around 18 percent and declining. These cities recognise that urban forests are essential infrastructure. They map their trees, actively monitor canopy coverage and embed tree protection into planning systems. New Zealand’s policy direction has instead prioritised removing regulatory barriers to development. Successive governments have been reluctant to restore councils’ ability to apply general tree protections, fearing this might slow housing supply. At the same time, proposed replacements for the Resource Management Act may allow landowners to seek compensation if planning rules restrict the use of their land. This could make councils even more cautious about imposing tree protection measures. The result is a planning environment where mature trees on private land are increasingly vulnerable. If we want greener, healthier cities, this approach needs to change. Councils should proactively identify and schedule significant trees before development pressure reaches them and use whatever regulatory tools are available to them to protect those trees. Developing a second tier to the existing schedule would identify and protect more trees of a younger age ensuring the longer-term survival of our urban forest. Schedule 10 should be regularly updated rather than allowed to stagnate for nearly a decade, and resource consent conditions relating to trees must also be actively monitored and enforced. There are also practical opportunities to improve urban greening. Rather than focusing solely on large specimen-planting programmes that require expensive aftercare, councils could plant greater numbers of smaller grade trees that establish more successfully. At the same time, planners and designers should identify the limited urban spaces where large canopy trees can grow to maturity and protect those opportunities. Community groups also have a vital role. Across Auckland, volunteer organisations already plant and maintain thousands of trees every year. Supporting these initiatives – through partnerships, funding and technical guidance – would help expand the urban ngahere while strengthening community connections to local green spaces. Cities around the world demonstrate that it is possible to accommodate growth while maintaining a thriving urban forest. Auckland can do the same – but only if we start treating mature trees as assets worth protecting rather than obstacles to development.