A superjail on Hei Ling Chau is a bad idea because it makes no sense in land-use planning. One need only take a 360-degree perspective from the island to appreciate that.

On one side, it is flanked by the North Lantau attractions, including the picturesque Chi Ma Wan Peninsula, the bustling traditional village of Mui Wo, the unique community of Discovery Bay, the pleasant getaway of Peng Chau, and of course Disney at Penny's Bay. Barely 2km to its south lies Cheung Chau, probably the world's most compact example of traditional Chinese culture in its natural environs. Across the West Lamma Channel, Hei Ling Chau overlooks Pokfulam, the Cyberport and Wah Fu, which local think-tank the Civic Exchange has described as Hong Kong's portal to nature. Then, there is Lamma Island, which, together with Hong Kong Island South, has once been described by the Planning Department as a showpiece for Hong Kong, the garden of the metropolitan area, the leisure destination for Hong Kong.

Can one imagine, in the middle of all these, Asia's superjail? Granted, Hei Ling Chau is currently used as a prison site, but it is much more low-key, with the natural character and pristine environment well preserved. Given the island's steep topography, lack of flat land and the fact that it is covered mainly in natural vegetation, any substantial development would have a major environmental impact.

In such a planning context, almost anything other than passive land use - whether a prison or a holiday home - is ruled out. Any large-scale development would be unsuitable. Even a super-resort is questionable; a superjail borders on the outrageous. If a Hei Ling Chau superjail did make planning sense, the government could have drawn up a land-use plan showing the full development parameters, and let it be debated publicly. No doubt, there would be vehement objections, but the government should have confidence that good planning would eventually prevail.

But no, the public is to be presented with a feasibility study instead - not is it right to have a superjail on Hei Ling Chau, but what is the best way to build the superjail there?

A more fundamental question is whether a superjail is needed at all. The current prison overcrowding problem must be acknowledged and tackled. The man or woman in the street can be forgiven for suggesting that the best way to do this would be to return convicted mainlanders across the border, which would resolve overcrowding immediately. Alternatively, a change in sentencing practices, or a reorientation of correctional policy towards more social integration, could see prison terms being slashed and, hence, the pressure would be relieved.

Of course, the reality is much more complicated. But the government should have conducted a review on rehabilitation and correctional service policy. This would require a thorough consultation with the public, prisoner rights groups, rehabilitation professionals, sociologists, economists, immigration practitioners, as well as experts on one country, two systems. A superjail should be one option, but not the only one.

If the plan for a superjail emerges as the best way forward, then there should be a public debate about site selection. If, at the end of that, Hei Ling Chau remains the best solution, I would still flinch on my boat trip to Cheung Chau, but at least I could take comfort from the fact that it was the community's choice, and that due process had been observed.