New laws that aim to protect our important cultural heritage may arise from the best of intentions, but they're pointless if government can't carry them out.

Yet this is what's happening in the case of old Hawaiian burials that are unearthed in the course of development. A new state law imposes a daily fine of $25,000 against anyone who knowingly damages burial sites or finds remains and then fails to stop work and report them to state authorities.

That reflects lawmakers' cultural sensitivity, perhaps, but it won't achieve any meaningful purpose if there's nobody at home over at the state Historic Preservation Division.

The division, which shoulders a heavy burden under the best of circumstances, is not in the best of circumstances these days. Woefully understaffed, the employee roster rife with vacancies, the office is drawing on only a fraction of its professional expertise.

A chronic staffing shortage has persisted for a few years, surfacing as an issue in the audit of the burials program released at the end of last year, but the backlog of work has grown to acute levels more recently. By some accounts, there have been eight departures in the past six months.

Division chief Melanie Chinen, who has no archaeological training, concedes that she has been the only one available at times to check reports of findings at construction sites.

So if developers are frustrated by the inevitable delays and are tempted to sweep the whole thing under the proverbial rug, how can anyone pretend to be shocked? And it's not only the burials that are affected. The architectural division is also short on expert staff, which may shortchange any serious review of historic buildings that need protection.

Chinen says that she has the green light to fill all the vacancies and add new staff, and that she is making progress toward that end. That's good, because time is fleeting, and any further delay in correcting staff shortages could have serious consequences.

Hawaiians who care about the integrity of burials should be worried about the burial program's dysfunction. For example: The law gives the state 45 days to review an archaeological survey of a project, and if that deadline is missed, it allows the developer to assume there's approval and to proceed to seek county permits.

Permitting agencies should be concerned: If the state punts after 45 days, the counties, lacking the state's expert advice, could be held liable if they give the go-ahead for a project that hits an archaeological snag later.

And developers — indeed anyone concerned about our economic vitality — should be worried. Either developments are held up waiting for state action or the developers risk hefty fines for skipping ahead.

None of this uncertainty bodes well for economic development, of course. It's a problem that must be fixed, with as much speed as the state can muster.