Each LPB carrying out RBW will have to provide the customer and the consent authority with a Record of Work that they have done or supervised. They are advised to take photos of the work as they go.
They will be legally liable for the work of subcontractors and they will need to carry insurance against that.
He says they will be so swamped in paperwork, red tape and extra liabilities that building will cease to be an industry of self-employed tradesmen and will become the preserve of companies with accountants, lawyers and clerks on the payroll.
All this, he didn't need to tell me, is attributable to two words: leaky homes.
Listening to him, I was torn. As a house owner, I told him, I'd quite like to have a better assurance about what has been done inside the linings of my most valuable asset.
"How much do you want to pay for that?" he replied. Fair point. We both have grown-up children and none of them has bought a house yet. The prices they face and the shortage of houses in Auckland is not going to be helped by these regulations.
He said building consent numbers this summer were already at the lowest level he had seen.
That day was the anniversary of the Christchurch earthquake. I wondered what the supply of builders will be like now for the reconstruction needed there.
But then, I said to him, if these regulations mean the industry becomes the preserve of Fletcher Construction and a few other firms, the Productivity Commission will be content. It recently lamented that house building has mostly been done by self-employed characters who lacked the inclination to expand.
He shrugged. Industry studies seldom impress people who know their market.
It must be hard to write regulations that strike the right balance between protecting an industry's customers and distorting its economics.
"Leaky homes" has been a national disaster, comparable to the Christchurch earthquakes in its cost. But it was a disaster caused by a particular error introduced to the building code in the last quarter of the 20th century. It is not an indictment of that whole era of deregulation.
A great deal of needless restriction was stripped out of the economy in those years. "Deregulation" was a bit of a misnomer. The rules removed were those limiting competition, those that set reasonable standards of safety and performance were supposed to remain.
Safety, in fact, became a much greater source of regulation than it had ever been. The late 1980s and 1990s brought the rise of 'OSH' (occupational safety and health) and public health campaigns against smoking, drinking, gambling and "obesity".
The tension of the times was particularly spectacular in gambling. Previously, the only betting permitted in New Zealand was on horses but by the late 1980s no industry could make a case for that sort of protection any more.
In 1990, casinos were permitted under strict licensing. The SkyCity casino opened in 1996, which turned out to be not a moment too soon.
The following year Parliament started legislating to prevent more casino licences being issued and since 2003 there has been a moratorium on the industry.
The "problem gambling" campaign had gained the upper hand. It probably still has it.
This year, SkyCity has been negotiating with the Government to give Auckland a convention centre of the capacity the city needs to attract a lucrative conference trade. In return, the casino wants the moratorium relaxed so it can put in more gaming tables and machines, and it wants an assurance that its 25-year licence will be extended when it expires in 2021.
Opposition parties in Parliament can hardly wait to attack any deal done on those terms. The regulatory itch is back with a vengeance.
Lamenting the new building regulations, neither of us were drinking, smoking or even eating. They get you in the end.
