The Loch Tay area of the Scottish Highlands has long attracted visitors in search of stunning scenery, outdoor adventure and a glimpse of Taymouth Castle, a lavish neo-Gothic estate that sits in the shadows of the green Grampian Mountains.
Built in the early 1800s by the once-powerful Campbell clan, Taymouth Castle has had a bit of a bumpy road. After the Campbells sold it in 1922 to pay off gambling debts, it served as a hotel, a World War II hospital, a training site for nuclear war preparations and a drama school.
In more recent decades, a string of private buyers tried and failed to restore the estate, usually running out of money and leaving it to fall further into decay. But locals and visitors were still free to walk its idyllic grounds, thanks largely to a 2003 land-reform law that enshrined the public’s “right to roam” Scotland’s majestic landscapes without interference from private landowners. The tourism dollars they brought were good for the village of Kenmore, a short walk from the castle.
So there was some worry when an American real estate developer, Discovery Land Company, began acquiring the Taymouth estate in 2018 with a plan to restore the castle and develop the land into a luxury residential community and golf club that it says will encompass 7,775 acres, or about 12 square miles.
The plans, estimated at around $380 million, sparked an outcry, especially when the developer bought several local businesses, including the Kenmore Hotel and the village shop. There were fears about the potential impact on the environment and on local housing costs, not to mention the possibility that the new owners would cut off public access to the land. A petition launched by a group called Protect Loch Tay urging Scots to sign before “we have lost our stunning natural heritage in this area forever” drew more than 160,000 signatures.
In a country known for its majestic scenery, there are conflicting ideas — as well as a new land-reform bill making its way through Scotland’s parliament — concerning what, if anything, should be done to stop wealthy buyers from engulfing the countryside.
“There’s a feeling that much of the local assets are getting sucked into this vision that the developer has,” said Mark Ruskell, a member of Scotland’s parliament whose region includes the Loch Tay area. “And that doesn’t necessarily work for the long-term sustainability of the community.”
The Taymouth Castle website promises that the new stewards “are fully committed to the letter and spirit of the Land Reform (Scotland) Act 2003,” and will protect not just public access, but the landscape, the wildlife and the surrounding community, creating more than 200 jobs in and around Kenmore. Much of the castle restoration was completed last year, including ornate details like stained-glass windows and a gold-leaf ceiling. Work is ongoing to refurbish the golf course, and 145 luxury homes have yet to be built.
All the commotion has highlighted an age-old question in Scotland: How much land is too much? According to the government, parcels of more than 1,000 hectares (roughly 2,500 acres) represent over half of Scotland’s land, while about 11 percent is publicly owned or managed by the Scottish Crown Estate.
“It’s probably one of the most concentrated patterns of private land ownership anywhere in the world,” said Andy Wightman, a former parliament member who now tracks the country’s land ownership. According to his data, half of all the privately owned rural land in Scotland is controlled by 421 landowners.
“We don’t have proper oversight over who buys land in Scotland, or what they’re doing with it,” said Josh Doble, the policy manager for Community Land Scotland, which represents community landowners and wants to put more rural land in their control. “There’s no limit on how much land a person can own, there’s no kind of public interest considerations.”
Between 2020 and 2022, the value of rural land jumped by as much as 58 percent in some areas, driven mostly by foreign investors buying up forests and damaged peatlands in pursuit of carbon credits (the carbon emitted when peat dries out contributes to climate change). One of them, the Danish billionaire Anders Povlsen, is now Scotland’s largest private landowner, with more than 200,000 acres.
But the issue goes back centuries. During a period that began in the 1700s known as the Highland Clearances, wealthy landlords with huge estates evicted and relocated thousands of tenant farmers living on the land, hollowing out working communities. Though some reforms were made over the years, Scotland only abolished its feudal system of land tenure in 2000, and the dynamic has been hard to shake.
“We never had the sort of revolutionary moment that the French or the Irish had, which led to huge change,” said Malcolm Combe, a senior lecturer in law at the University of Strathclyde, in Glasgow, adding: “Until now. We’re trying to do land reform in a kind of modern setting.”
Today, concentrated land ownership “appears to be causing significant and long term damage to the communities affected,” according to government analysis, including a surge in land prices, declining population and sagging income levels among some rural residents.
The new bill in parliament aims to claw back some of that land by expanding community ownership and giving more power to tenant farmers and smaller landholders. The law would give elected officials the ability to break up parcels of more than 1,000 hectares when they come up for sale, allowing more communities, farmers and small businesses the chance to buy at affordable prices. It would also force some landowners to engage local communities in their plans for the terrain.
Mr. Ruskell, the Scottish member, said that the current landholding system in some ways echoes the 19th-century model, just with corporations in place of feudal landlords. “As a result, you have communities where there’s a huge housing crisis, where it’s difficult for young people to stay in these local communities,” he said.
Chris Heasman, a writer and activist who lives just outside of Kenmore, partly blames the vestiges of feudalism for the housing issues in the area, where finding a home can be a “nightmare.”
In some cases, he said, the Taymouth estate plans have “jeopardized housing further.” He pointed to one proposal to build a golf maintenance hub on land that had been carved out for affordable housing. (It was eventually withdrawn.)
“All these issues that have arisen, I’m not convinced that they are an acceptable price to pay for the castle being restored inside,” Mr. Heasman said. “Especially when the vast majority of people are not going to be able to actually enjoy the castle, or even see it.”
But others are convinced that the redevelopment of neglected treasures like Taymouth Castle, and the accompanying investment in surrounding areas, is what’s best for the local communities.
“What would you rather have: A great big blot on the landscape falling to bits, or would you like someone to do something about it?” said Shirley Shearer, a local business owner and vice chair of the Kenmore & District Community Council, a group run by elected locals.
“In general, everything is looking much more affluent,” she said, adding that there’s more life in the community and a “renewed optimism” about its future.
Discovery Land Company declined to make its leadership available for interviews, but David O’Donoghue, the hospitality and real estate development leader of Taymouth Castle, said in an email statement that the company intends to protect Kenmore, land-access rights and the local environment. It also has touted its intention to “identify and revitalize unsustainable hospitality units” and “regionally expand work force housing over the next several years.”
“We have taken meaningful steps to expand the stock of affordable housing in the region and will continue to seek opportunities to do so,” Mr. O’Donoghue wrote. “This is not only a commitment we have made to the community, it is also essential to the operations of the Estate.”
Opponents of the land-reform bill argue that it will only hurt large-scale farmers and others who tend the land, discouraging new investment in those communities. Sarah-Jane Laing, the chief executive of Scottish Land & Estates, which represents rural landowners, said the government has an “overfocus” on concentrated land ownership that’s based on history and ideology. “In reality, it doesn’t matter who owns the land,” she said. “It’s about what they do with it.”
The landscapes beloved by Scots and tourists are “not unmanaged wilderness,” she added. “There are people whose investment and time and passion is going into maintaining those landscapes or improving them.”
Colin Morton, a retired Kenmore resident and a member of the community council, touted Discovery’s renovations in the village. Opposition to the development has “nothing to do with what’s best for the area here or the community here,” he said. “It’s all about political point scoring.”
Supporters of land reform, on the other hand, argue that making land more affordable and attainable is crucial for unwinding the power imbalance separating large-scale landowners from the communities that sit on their holdings. One way is with community right-to-buy policies, which theoretically make it easier for locals to collectively purchase the land where they live. Similar measures have been part of two land-reform bills passed by the Scottish Parliament in 2003 and 2016. Yet today, less than 3 percent of rural land is community-owned, according to Mr. Wightman’s analysis.
That leaves him skeptical about anything this new bill might accomplish — its proposals apply only to land that’s been put on the market, and then are too conservative. “The bottom line is they’ve introduced a bill that’s going to make no meaningful impact on the pattern of land ownership,” he said.
Whatever happens with the bill, said Mr. Ruskell, “we’ll need another land reform bill probably in 10 years time to take the next step. It’s probably going to take a generation to really start to unpick things.”
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