“Every lie we tell incurs a debt to the truth. Sooner or later, that debt is paid.” — Chernobyl. So here is the truth. Last year, I branded Labor’s Woollahra state-led scheme for up to 10,000 units and a station a “random and peculiar act of toxic masculinity”. At the time—as a knee-jerk act of machismo following Rosehill’s failure—it most certainly was. It can no longer be described that way. The Sydney Plan now gives that original intervention the policy coherence it previously lacked. It is therefore an unpalatable yet perfectly coherent element of the @NSWLabor Government’s broader plan for Sydney’s growth over the longer term. NSW will soon present its detailed plans for the Woollahra state-led scheme. Woollahra will have an opportunity to respond through the proper process. I fear it is now Woollahra—not the State—that is refusing to sit down and negotiate seriously. As a Woollahra resident, I do not wish for this gorgeous suburb to be destroyed. My partner and I moved here for good reason. Yet Labor is presently in power. And they are willing to fund a new railway station to support that growth. And we are in a housing crisis. Given all that, I can only begrudgingly agree with Planning Minister Paul Scully: Council’s alternative of up to 3,600 additional dwellings is not a serious proposal when the State is planning for up to 10,000. Do not be fooled: accommodating 10,000 homes here is, technically speaking, possible. My colleagues must be more self-aware and guide the State to a more sensible, useful solution. Allowing the State—which has every right to proceed—to do so without useful, pragmatic guidance from local representatives would be a disaster of historic proportions. It would become an example in future planning textbooks of what not to do. Up to 3,600 units is not remotely the best we can do. That number is not merely an inadequate answer to the State; it is an insult to every Sydneysider facing mortgage or rental stress—and to every younger Sydneysider who hopes one day to have a space of their own. Woollahra must work much harder. This does not mean accepting 10,000 as immutable, nor sacrificing the best surviving fabric of early Sydney in exchange for a corridor of bulky, sad and soulless towers. It means negotiating seriously over number, form and location: fewer, taller and more slender buildings that show mums and dads around Australia that high-density living can indeed provide a wonderful place to raise a family. Buildings well separated and set within substantial gardens where children can play in the safety of the Aussie backyard. Carefully placed to preserve what cannot be replaced. And supported by real commitments on infrastructure, heritage, trees, sunlight and open space. Some battles are about stopping something. This one must be about shaping it. The State is proceeding. Pretending otherwise is not resistance. It is the logic of the Soviet Politburo: preserve the approved fiction, dismiss every warning, and assume reality will somehow yield. Reality does not yield. It sends the bill. And when that debt falls due, it will be Woollahra—thanks to those who peddled this silly fiction—that ultimately pays the price.