The shameful spectacle of government regulatory failure is on full display on the 854 acres that comprise the dubiously named Kunia Loa Ridge Farmlands.

So many things have gone awry on these lands that were intended for farming only — e.g., proliferation of banned houselike structures, even a Buddhist temple — that there’s sure to be even more building with impunity. That is, unless the city and Kunia Loa’s newly formed lessees association take firm action toward resolving the problems.

Kunia Loa Ridge Farmlands was created when a state law in 2006 exempted leased agricultural land from county subdivision requirements such as sidewalks and street lights. The law clearly prohibits construction of temporary or permanent dwellings, but allows storage sheds or other structures "appropriate to the agricultural activity."

But nine years later, the bitter irony is that the very farmers who have tried to live by the rules, are the ones being shafted by dubiously high property tax assessments, bad farming conditions that include pricey water, and fellow lessees gaming a lax system.

At least three dozen apparent homes and the temple are clearly seen, and one insider estimated at least 22 families living at Kunia Loa. By law, they all should not be there, since the 2006 leased ag-lands law bans residential use.

Further complication came in 2012, when state lawmakers, over the city’s strong objections, flung the floodgates wide open by enacting a law that exempted certain ag structures from needing building permits on commercial farms. Partly because Kunia Loa is not connected to Oahu’s water, power, sewer or telephone grids, the city chose to look away.

The city Department of Planning and Permitting (DPP), which is supposed to enforce building and zoning requirements, has dithered, citing lack of jurisdiction or insufficient evidence. Most of the two dozen city citations for Kunia Loa in the past year came only after inquiries by Star-Advertiser reporter Rob Perez.

Today might well present the last, best chance for course correction, to start plugging the regulatory holes. It won’t be simple. But several things should begin in earnest:

» First and foremost, proof of farming as the sole activity on the lots must be the standard for all lessees. If this requires tightening of state law or city rules, tighten them.

» Granted, the city inherited the very dysfunction it had warned of, when it opposed the 2012 state law. Nevertheless, the city needs to start owning the problem and reconcile a basic disconnect between two of its oversight agencies here: While the city DPP considers the entire 854-acre development one lot, the city’s Real Property Assessment Division (RPAD) treats Kunia Loa as 99 lease lots and calculates taxes for each separately.

DPP is disingenuous in not acknowledging reality, and passivity is allowing the situation to fester. DPP needs to get in step with RPAD. Getting a true reading of each lot is needed in order to do proper monitoring and citing. It can no longer ignore the de facto community of homes, church and some farming that has emerged.

» After being launched by developer C&C Farmlands, Kunia Loa is now overseen by an association board of directors consisting of lessees. The board took office in July; it now must get its member lessees to abide the law against residences and nonconforming structures. Basic fairness to all its law-abiding tenant farmers demand more vigilance and self-policing to disallow structures that are not supposed to be there.

At the core of this regulatory quagmire, for whom this situation should be righted, are the sincere farmers such as Pepe Paguirigan, 64, who bought into Kunia Loa Ridge Farmlands trying to make a go of farming fruit trees and vegetables. A galling irony: He has a 99-year lease for 12 acres, but the $4,445 annual property tax on his legitimate farm enterprise is nearly double that of a similar-sized lot on which sits the Buddhist temple — which should not even be there in the first place.