For all its world renown and the natural beauty of sea, sky and Diamond Head, Waikiki is overwhelmingly an artificial construct. Besides the mammoth effort 80 years ago to bring in the sand to create its beach frontage, the human touch is also clear in the emotional and financial push and pull over its development and, now, redevelopment.

As the visitor industry took off and land values skyrocketed, state and city governments have tried to find the balance between spurring economic growth and preserving a shoreline with some breathing room between Hawaii’s natural attractions and highrises. The decision to allow a 282-foot tower pushed up against the beach, as planned by Kyo-ya Co. Ltd., shows how weakly Honolulu politicians maintain that balance.

About 34 years ago, the city adopted design regulations aimed at setting back highrises a bit and restricting building heights for hotels fronting the beach. It’s a planning tool that the city has now blunted in the proposed replacement of the low-rise Diamond Head tower of the Moana Surfrider Hotel.

The City Council already has approved, by a unanimous vote, two key permits for the project sought by the hotel owner Kyo-ya Co. Ltd. At this stage it seems inevitable that the city Department of Planning and Permitting will approve the shoreline variance Kyo-ya needs to replace the 58-year-old, eight-story hotel with a 26-story tower.

The city has managed to get some concessions from the developer — providing a wider public beach access lane is an important one. But it would have been better to trade some of these modest contributions — donations for security cameras, trash cans and youth outreach, for example — for at least some reduction in the proposed 282-foot tower height. As it is, the building will be about 73 percent too massive to meet shoreline restrictions. Kyo-ya executives correctly point to the narrowness of the lot, where there’s no room to set it back the full 100 feet before it lands in the middle of Kalakaua Avenue.

But even if the tower has to take up most of the ground space mauka of the beach, city officials haven’t made a convincing case why it needs to go quite so high. The existing wing is no architectural treasure, but at least its height is much more in keeping with the graceful Moana next door, which is on both the state and national historic registers. The new tower seems likely to overwhelm it and beachgoers alike.

Kyo-ya is contributing a total of $550,000 toward the initial restoration and some of the upkeep of an enlarged beach in front of both Moana wings. It’s something that the state had agreed to do in a 1965 pact with the hoteliers of the central segment of Waikiki beachfront, but never maintained.

The other agreements include measures to reduce the visual impact, including positioning the tower and entrance pavilion to allow a slim view of the beach from the street. The developers have pledged to maintain the original Moana on its property for 25 years, which seems a modest commitment for such an historic and architectural legacy.

Kyo-ya argues that the constraints of the historic hotel, the skimpy size of the lot and the erosion of the original frontage, unreplenished by the state, combine to create "hardship," the basis for being granted a variance.

Some flexibility for development seems reasonable, but a variance this elastic defeats the purpose of design regulations. Environmental groups, which threaten to sue over the setback variance, want to test the hardship rule.

Tying up development in court would be unfortunate. But somebody needs to advocate for the public interest in Waikiki — a resort destination that’s hospitable and retains a sense of place — even if the city, to this point, has not.