(Image: Private Media)

This is part three of Preying on Grief, Crikey’s four-part investigation of the funeral industry. Read part one here.

Australia has failed to plan for the dead. Since the New South Wales government last built a cemetery — 80 years ago — the state’s annual death rate has increased by 105%. In Sydney, most major cemeteries will run out of space within 12 years, while cemeteries run by smaller groups such as Russian Orthodox Christians, Mandaeans and Maori will run out of burial space in as little as three years. In parts of Melbourne, space will run out before 2025.

Plans to build new graves have been met with backlash, with residents west of Sydney arguing that a proposed cemetery will cause the value of their homes to plummet. 

It also seems the dead are outstaying their welcome: burial plots are some of the most valuable real estate in the country. The seaside Waverley Cemetery, for example, which was created in the 1800s and sits just a few kilometres from Bondi Beach, is valued at $33 million. Sydney cemetery lots could support up to $25 billion in new homes.

Limited grave plots is an issue that affects demographics differently, with many religious groups reaching crisis point. But for non-denominational Australians, traditional cemeteries could soon be a thing of the past.

Prime real estate resting place

Cremation has become increasingly popular due to the changing nature of Australia’s religious makeup and the increased cost of burial, with 70% of Australians choosing cremation over burial. But this isn’t an option for everyone. Jewish and Islamic traditions forbid cremation and require permanent burial (though some Muslim communities allow for graves to be reused once a body has decomposed).

The Muslim population in Australia is growing at a faster rate than the overall Australian population, increasing by 1.7% to 2.6% between 2006 and 2016. As a result, cemeteries are filling up faster. 

Mariam Ardati is a death doula and funeral services director, and sits on the Australian National Imams Council. She tells Crikey that in the past 10 years the cost of burial in Sydney has doubled to about $14,000, leading to struggle for many families — especially those who lose several loved ones in one event.

“We work with a lot of local charities that have reported a dramatic increase in the number of people coming to them saying, ‘We can’t afford to bury our dead.’” 

Having funeral plots near Muslim communities is important to the faith, she says.

“We maintain a very strong connection with the dead long after they’ve gone. That relationship doesn’t ever stop. The more options for burial sites available to a community, the better it is for them and their relationship to the dead.”

Final resting place may not be so final

How long a person stays in their grave differs by state, territory and cemetery. While most graves in South Australia and Western Australia are rented for 25, 50 or 99 years (with the coffin dug up and buried deeper at the end of the lease before a new coffin is buried on top), many in Victoria, New South Wales and Queensland have been bought in perpetuity — meaning graves must be maintained forever. 

Well, not quite: bodies have internment rights, which is the right to burial. When the Melbourne government decided to reuse a cemetery to build the Queen Victoria Market in 1922, some graves were moved and others paved over.

Unless the government reassigns the land, cemetery operators selling graves in perpetuity have to look after those graves forever — even after the graveyard is full and burials have stopped taking place.

This has created a huge issue in NSW. The five major operators of Sydney crown cemeteries, which run state-owned graveyards, have debts of more than $300 million, and two of them won’t have enough cash to perpetually maintain their cemeteries — including cleaning headstones, maintaining parking and paths and mowing lawns. 

NSW isn’t alone in running out of space, but in other states such as Victoria and South Australia cemeteries are vertically integrated and run by the government. In NSW they’re operated by public, private, church and charity bodies. 

A key concern has been the slow rate of decomposition in Sydney soil. Ardati said many Muslim families bought plots in perpetuity because there is limited data on how long a body will take to decompose, and they don’t want to risk unearthing the remains of their loved ones. 

“We want renewable tenure but the science actually hasn’t caught up with our needs,” she said.

A park and cemetery in one

University of Technology Sydney Faculty of Design, Architecture and Building associate professor and architect David Neustein tells Crikey that across Australia cities had failed to plan for the dead. 

“We just haven’t adequately seen cemeteries as part of the urban picture and as a key aspect of other components of the city, like hospitals and housing and schools and workplaces,” he said. 

Neustein says the in-perpetuity business model is fundamentally flawed.

“There’s no possible investment model that justifies that cost. Eventually, over time, whatever revenue was put into that model will be exhausted,” he said. 

“It’s this cycle of continually acquiring land and then having to look after it forever and then driving up the cost of acquiring new land to pay for it. It’s like being a problem gambler, when you try to win, you try to pay for your last loss with your next week.”

Neustein is an advocate for alternative burial methods such as natural or green burial. This involves burying the body in a shallow grave in a biodegradable coffin, ensuring that the body decomposes. There are no markers on the grave, but instead families are given GPS coordinates. Most states have at least one natural burial area, some of which can be reused as parks. 

“There’s no or limited landscaping, no foundations, no concrete pathways and you can reduce the amount of area that’s paved,” Neustein said. 

“In doing that, you drastically lower the amount of energy consumed and water consumed and resources that are required.”

Tomorrow: The death care monopoly