The ten-year lease extension gives RIOC a rare chance to replace short-term deals with a financial system designed to outlast the people approving them.
The core of the problem rests permanently in the opening sentence: "Roosevelt Island was built through public investment, then expected to support itself through development."
Good idea, right? Now, if they'd only taken time to think this through, like the simplest question: How much development would be needed to produce the support needed? If anyone gave this any serious thought, they reached the wrong conclusion. More likely, with New York City desperate for a rescue in the mid-70s, decisions were based on magical thinking.
The four original WIRE buildings could never accommodate enough residents for supporting the list of viable businesses they wanted. This partly explains why RIOC and its predecessor lied for years about the population, quoting 14,000 when there were well under 10,000, in trying to attract small business investors. It's no surprise that almost every one of the original investors failed. Bread & Butter Deli is the single survivor.
A second problem is bureaucracy bloat. Like all of New York State government, RIOC added more employees than it would ever need because it acted, as the state and city did, as an employer of last resort. Employees with no real function or need piled up and idled away most of the day. 55 security guards doing what the city is already obliged to do? Really?
Unless RIOC fixes its fantasy budget, adjusting for real need, and finds a way to make running a business on Main Street broadly viable, the rest will be nothing more than nibbling along the edges of endless poor planning.
You’re asking the questions that matter. The answers keep circling back to the same structural problem: a board that faces no real consequence for aligning with state officials and builders over the longer horizon the Island requires, and a public so uninvolved that the field is left open to whoever is willing to demand what they want without pushback.
The ten-year window does not change that default. It only tests whether anyone with authority will challange it.
Ain't "no consequences" nice? Why Fay, Conway and Howard sit there, going through the motions, year after year, is hard to fathom. It's not as if they contribute any dialogue. Maybe Conway gets a merit badge for his resume. Maybe neither Fay nor Howard have anything much to do in retirement, and this is like a hobby. Side with your neighbors, you might lose your hobby. Side with the State, you get to keep your toys.
The core of the problem rests permanently in the opening sentence: "Roosevelt Island was built through public investment, then expected to support itself through development."
Good idea, right? Now, if they'd only taken time to think this through, like the simplest question: How much development would be needed to produce the support needed? If anyone gave this any serious thought, they reached the wrong conclusion. More likely, with New York City desperate for a rescue in the mid-70s, decisions were based on magical thinking.
The four original WIRE buildings could never accommodate enough residents for supporting the list of viable businesses they wanted. This partly explains why RIOC and its predecessor lied for years about the population, quoting 14,000 when there were well under 10,000, in trying to attract small business investors. It's no surprise that almost every one of the original investors failed. Bread & Butter Deli is the single survivor.
A second problem is bureaucracy bloat. Like all of New York State government, RIOC added more employees than it would ever need because it acted, as the state and city did, as an employer of last resort. Employees with no real function or need piled up and idled away most of the day. 55 security guards doing what the city is already obliged to do? Really?
Unless RIOC fixes its fantasy budget, adjusting for real need, and finds a way to make running a business on Main Street broadly viable, the rest will be nothing more than nibbling along the edges of endless poor planning.
You’re asking the questions that matter. The answers keep circling back to the same structural problem: a board that faces no real consequence for aligning with state officials and builders over the longer horizon the Island requires, and a public so uninvolved that the field is left open to whoever is willing to demand what they want without pushback.
The ten-year window does not change that default. It only tests whether anyone with authority will challange it.
Ain't "no consequences" nice? Why Fay, Conway and Howard sit there, going through the motions, year after year, is hard to fathom. It's not as if they contribute any dialogue. Maybe Conway gets a merit badge for his resume. Maybe neither Fay nor Howard have anything much to do in retirement, and this is like a hobby. Side with your neighbors, you might lose your hobby. Side with the State, you get to keep your toys.