I’ve spent more than a decade working as a construction dispute consultant, often stepping in after neighbours stop talking and start measuring walls with tape and frustration. Reading about René Collier immediately felt familiar to me—not because of the names or the location, but because I’ve seen how quickly a modest building decision can turn into a legal standoff once trust breaks down.
Early in my career, I was called to a coastal property where a low boundary wall had been replaced with something taller and more permanent. On paper, the measurements were close enough to seem harmless. In practice, the new structure blocked light, altered drainage, and triggered months of resentment. What struck me wasn’t the wall itself, but how neither side fully understood the planning limits or their neighbour’s expectations before construction began. That pattern shows up again and again.
In my experience, disputes like this rarely start with bad intentions. I worked with a homeowner a few summers ago who honestly believed a replacement wall fell under “minor works.” They relied on a contractor’s casual reassurance instead of formal confirmation. By the time the neighbour objected, concrete had already set, and positions hardened. Once that happens, compromise becomes far more difficult, even if the underlying issue is relatively small.
One mistake I see often is assuming silence equals consent. Just because a neighbour doesn’t object during early stages doesn’t mean they’ve agreed. I’ve sat in meetings where one party said, “I thought they were fine with it—they never said anything,” while the other replied, “I didn’t think I had to say no until it was real.” That gap in assumptions is where conflict grows. Clear, documented communication before any wall goes up saves an extraordinary amount of stress later.
Another recurring issue is overconfidence in informal advice. Contractors are skilled at building, but they’re not always reliable guides on boundary law or planning compliance. I’ve reviewed cases where a wall was only a few inches out of spec, yet that small deviation was enough to trigger enforcement action and court involvement. Those inches can cost several thousand euros to undo, not to mention the toll on neighbourly relations.
After years of watching these situations unfold, my view is fairly firm: if a project touches a boundary, slow down. Get independent confirmation, share plans openly, and assume that what feels obvious to you may feel intrusive to someone else. Walls are physical structures, but the disputes around them are usually about respect, visibility, and control—things that can’t be fixed with a trowel once they’re damaged.
I’ve also learned that once a disagreement reaches court, nobody truly “wins.” Even the party that gets a favourable ruling often walks away drained, having spent months living next to someone they now avoid. That outcome is far more common than people expect when they first decide to push ahead and “sort it out later.”
Cases like this resonate with me because they underline how ordinary property decisions can escalate when early caution is skipped. Most of the time, the solution isn’t legal muscle—it’s foresight, patience, and a willingness to treat a boundary not just as a line on a plan, but as a shared space that deserves extra care.
