By the mid-1980s, Ballymun had already become a sociological 'sink', writes Frank McDonald.
The "brave new world" of Ballymun is finally coming to an ignominious end.
It was inevitable, of course. The same fate has long since befallen other failed experiments in high-rise public housing, from Pruitt-Igoe in St Louis, Missouri, to Moss Side in Manchester.
The writing was on the wall. As early as 1979, just a decade after the completion of Ballymun, Dublin Corporation's then housing maintenance officer went over to Liverpool to witness the demolition of one of its high-rise horrors in the most spectacular way possible - by blowing it up.
Cracks had already appeared in the pre-fabricated concrete panels of Ballymun's seven 15-storey towers - heroically named after the 1916 signatories - as well as its 19 eight-storey spine blocks and 10 four-storey blocks of "walk-up" flats.
What to do: renovate or demolish? A "Polyfilla job" was done. Then, in 1993, one of the towers and two of the spine blocks were refurbished at a cost of £6.7 million (€8.6 million).
Three years later, following an evaluation of the estate by specialist consultants, the bill for an overall renovation was put at £144 million (€184.5 million).
Demolition and replacement of the towers and spine blocks, plus refurbishment of the four-storey "walk-up" blocks, was estimated at £170 million (€218 million); in other words, it was nearly as expensive to refurbish the existing, flawed high-rise blocks as it was to demolish and rebuild.
By the mid-1980s, Ballymun had become a sociological "sink", a symbol of everything that was bad about public housing.
Although the flats were quite commodious and, mostly, well cared-for, common areas were rubbish-strewn and landings and stairwells scarred by graffiti and urine.
The lifts were often out of order; in one 12-month period in the late-1970s, the corporation had to deal with 2,425 complaints due to equipment failure, misuse, or vandalism. This reinforced the sense of isolation felt by people living in the towers, and made life tough for mothers in particular.
And though it was as big as many middle-size Irish towns, Ballymun had just one supermarket, two pubs, a part-time bank and 24 local "shops" operating out of disused containers.
The "open parkland" setting envisaged by followers of Le Corbusier was in reality bleak and windswept.
Should the designers be blamed? Not really, because building Ballymun was a political decision, pushed through by the late Neil Blaney, then minister for local government. System-built, high-rise housing was all the rage internationally, an idea whose time had come, and we just had to have it.
There was also a serious housing crisis and opting for a system-built solution, as promoted by the "snake-oil salesmen" of that era, seemed to offer the prospect of providing a total of 3,068 housing units in double-quick time. The National Building Agency was set up to oversee its construction.
Ballymun is regularly cited by opponents of higher-density housing as a planning disaster. But they are confusing high-rise with high-density. In fact, the estate was built on a 359-acre site, so density worked out at just 8.5 units per acre, or about the same as the suburban norm.
What would replace it was billed in 1996 by Brendan Howlin TD, then minister for the environment, as a "model town for the 21st century".
But this is improbable, given that most of the new housing is built in terraces with front and back gardens at a density of less than 20 units per acre.
This reflects the will of the people. Ballymun Regeneration Ltd (BRL), which is managing this huge project for Dublin City Council, engaged in extensive public consultation when it was preparing the 1998 masterplan, and this policy continued through the detailed design of different elements.
Architects found public meetings tough going. After one of them had outlined his ideas for duplexes above garden-level flats, a man sitting in the front row said: "That's all very well, but what the people around here want is two-storey houses with front and back gardens. All the rest is just shite."
His view, and that of many living in Ballymun, was coloured by personal experience of endless problems with noisy neighbours and common areas which were not maintained.
Now, having endured a squalid environment for years, they all have the chance to demand the type of housing they really want.
One of the central elements of the masterplan is a new tree-lined main street to replace the dual-carriageway that cut Ballymun in two so unnecessarily. This has already done the trick in attracting much-needed private sector investment in the area, in "Section 23" apartments on the upper levels.
These flats are targeted for renting to students at Dublin City University, on nearby Collins Avenue. More private housing is likely after first-time house-buyers joined queues to purchase new homes in Ballymun off the plans, which BRL sees as a huge vote of confidence in the area and its future.
Open spaces throughout the area are to be re-arranged into more formal circles, crescents and larger parks surrounded and overlooked by low-rise housing, to give the requisite degree of passive surveillance. No longer would Ballymun's open spaces be the gathering places for anti-social activities. BRL believes that "important new statements" are being made.
In terms of architecture, Ballymun would have more variety than any other Dublin suburb, public or private, according to its managing director, Mr Ciarán Murray, even though the density would be only "around 15 to 16 units per acre".
Social facilities, so woefully lacking in the high-rise estate, are being provided this time. One of the early flagship projects was the community arts centre, which contains a multi-purpose 220-seat theatre as well as a bar, restaurant, dance studio, creche, training facilities and community offices.
There was to be a Luas line running up and down the main street, but the Government decided to build the Sandyford line first because it would attract more car commuters. Not for the first time, Ballymun felt victimised. But it could still end up on a metro line serving Dublin Airport - if there is one.