Down the Tubes: Roosevelt Island’s AVAC System and the Failure That No One Will Own
Once a marvel of urban engineering, Roosevelt Island’s pneumatic trash system now stands as a monument to mismanagement, silence, and a leadership vacuum with no bottom.
In 1975, Roosevelt Island did something no other New York neighborhood had the audacity to try: it buried its trash. Not figuratively. Literally.
The AVAC system—Automated Vacuum Collection—was an engineering marvel, an underground tube network that sucked garbage from building chutes at 60 miles per hour and delivered it, unseen and unsmelled, to a centralized facility. No garbage trucks. No rats. No curbside clutter.
While the AVAC system was once seen as a futuristic solution to urban waste management, in recent years, it has faced increasing scrutiny due to frequent breakdowns, piles of garbage in Southtown, and concerns about its long-term sustainability. It was the future. And now, fifty years later, that future is on life support.
The Vision Below Our Feet
AVAC’s design is elegant. Each residential building has a discharge valve linked to its trash chute. When triggered, trash is pulled into the AVAC tubes and sent—fast and frictionless—to be compacted and removed from the island. The system, pioneered by Swedish firm Envac, is one of only two in the country. The other? Disneyland.
That alone should tell you something.
Disneyland, the only other location in the U.S. using an AVAC system, has taken a different approach to waste management. Over the years, Disney has heavily invested in modernizing its system, introducing new technologies such as trash-monitoring sensors and optimized waste sorting. While the AVAC system at Disneyland primarily handles general waste, Disney has implemented separate recycling initiatives, ensuring that recyclables are processed efficiently.
There is no public record of RIOC reaching out to Disney to learn from its experience or explore whether modernization strategies could be applied to Roosevelt Island. RIOC should have already developed a plan for system upgrades, including cost estimates and feasibility studies, so that local residents can advocate for funding and support at the state level.
Garbage in the Streets, Finger-Pointing in the Offices
Southtown is where the trash truly meets the curb.
Piles of refuse—especially recyclables—regularly accumulate outside buildings. Residents complain, quietly or loudly, depending on the day. Photos circulate. And RIOC, the state agency tasked with running Roosevelt Island, tells the same tired story: the system isn’t broken, the residents are.
According to RIOC spokesperson Bryant Daniels, the problem isn’t infrastructure, the system has the capacity to handle additional buildings, including the new developments in Southtown. He states that each discharge valve operates independently, meaning that the number of buildings should not directly impact the system’s capacity—it’s human error. “If buildings fail to adhere to their disposal windows,” he said, “it can lead to localized overflows.”
In other words, it’s your fault. Or your neighbor’s.
But not everyone accepts that explanation. “Why should we believe that only Southtown has these problems?” one longtime resident familiar with AVAC asked. “It’s never happened anywhere else before or since? Makes no sense.”
The Myths of Misuse
RIOC’s fallback explanation—that residents are shoving mattresses and tables down the AVAC chutes—has become lore. But lore doesn’t hold up to scrutiny.
“Find a single AVAC chute where a large furniture item can fit,” said one source with direct knowledge of AVAC operations. “That’s ridiculous.”
Requests for evidence have gone unanswered. One well-known incident blamed a two-week shutdown on a bedframe jammed in the system. No photo. No inspection report. Just a claim.
Perhaps the most egregious tale came one October when RIOC claimed the AVAC system was brought down by a lightning strike. Yet NOAA data confirmed no strikes within 100 miles of the city. Residents walked the AVAC facility perimeter. No scorch marks, no visible damage, no signs of a storm at all.
“It was overcast. Temperatures were in the 40s. There wasn’t a single storm. But when you challenge these stories, RIOC simply goes silent.”
However, Daniels shifts responsibility toward the buildings themselves, stating that improper waste disposal and mismanagement of disposal windows by Southtown developments are the root causes of garbage piling up in the streets. The AVAC system does not run 24/7; instead, each building has designated timeframes for waste disposal. If buildings fail to adhere to their schedules, it can lead to localized overflows that are unrelated to system-wide failures.
But if RIOC’s claims were even partially true—if buildings were regularly clogging the system, violating disposal windows, or masterminding how to shove mattresses down chutes—why hasn’t anyone been fined? Where are the warnings, the enforcement, the accountability? If a condo owner flushed a bag of cement down their toilet, the building would pursue them for damages. So why hasn’t RIOC, which holds significant authority over these developments, ever used that power? Either the stories are false, or the agency is willfully ignoring violations it claims are rampant. You can’t have both.
An Overloaded System, Designed for a Simpler Time
The deeper issue is structural. The AVAC system was originally built to serve the four WIRE buildings—Westview, Island House, Roosevelt Landings (formerly Eastwood), and Eastwood South.
Since then, Roosevelt Island has doubled in population. Six buildings in Manhattan Park. Nine more in Southtown. The Octagon. All relying on the same vacuum tube backbone.
“There’s no public record showing whether the system was ever evaluated for that kind of expansion,”
said journalist David Stone, one of the few who’s tracked the system’s evolution.
“They just kept building.”
The company that designed the AVAC system, Envac AB, has since developed more advanced waste collection technologies, including multi-stream systems that handle recyclables separately. In 2019, RIOC awarded a $1.7 million contract to Envac Iberia for system upgrades, but those improvements focused primarily on operational efficiency rather than expanding its capabilities to include recycling. RIOC must assess whether future upgrades will include enhancements to recycling capabilities or simply maintain the existing system.
RIOC needs to take decisive action by committing resources to system maintenance and modernization. Southtown buildings must also ensure they are upholding proper waste disposal practices to prevent unnecessary strain on the system. Yet, unlike modern infrastructure, the AVAC tubes were embedded directly into the foundations of buildings. That means even minor upgrades require massive logistical planning and months-long shutdowns—something RIOC appears unprepared, or unwilling, to address.
The Vanishing Plan
Before his abrupt departure, RIOC’s former CFO John O’Reilly had drafted a modernization plan for AVAC. O’Reilly, selected in part for his construction background, recognized the engineering challenges early on. His plan was, by several accounts, comprehensive.
Now? It’s gone.
“No one seems to know what happened to it,” said Stone. “And O’Reilly has offered to return and help. No one has responded.”
Instead, RIOC has opted for silence. Or worse, denial. The failure to act is now being compounded by the failure to acknowledge. RIOC must provide transparency regarding the state of the AVAC system, funding allocations, and future plans for modernization. With the right investment and oversight, AVAC could continue to be an innovative waste management solution rather than a crumbling relic of the past.
The Accountability Vacuum
One reason for this stagnation is the agency’s notorious leadership churn. CEOs cycle in and out with almost laughable frequency. But through all the transitions, one fixture remains: the board.
Howard Polivy and David Kraut, two of RIOC’s longest-serving board members, have presided over years of institutional decay. The AVAC system is only the most visible symptom. From Eleanor’s Pier to the collapsing seawall, infrastructure is being ignored—and the board appears content to stay quiet.
“They’ve been on the board longer than any executive,” one resident remarked. “And what exactly have they done to prevent these failures? Where’s the transition plan? Where’s the oversight?”
In an agency riddled with short-term executive leadership, Roosevelt Island’s long-serving board members were meant to provide continuity, institutional memory, and strategic oversight. Instead, they’ve presided over a vacuum of accountability. Some argue that what we’re seeing isn’t just dysfunction—but a system of engineered chaos, where underqualified and overpaid state employees are placed in roles without the necessary expertise to oversee complex infrastructure or multi-million-dollar contracts. The board, in turn, appears to function less as a watchdog and more as a rubber stamp. Why has there been so little meaningful oversight? Who benefits from this persistent lack of scrutiny? Why have long-serving board members remained silent through years of systemic decay? We’ll leave it to our readers to ask these questions—and draw their own conclusions.
RuthAnne Visnauskas: Watching or Enabling?
There is one other figure whose influence looms large, even if she rarely appears in public conversation.
RuthAnne Visnauskas, Commissioner of New York State Homes and Community Renewal, is officially RIOC’s oversight authority. Her office appoints RIOC’s leadership. She signs off on budget decisions. In theory, Roosevelt Island is a speck in her vast portfolio. In practice, it seems she intervenes frequently—and directly.
Some argue she doesn’t have time to care about RIOC, yet one government source told The LightHouse:
“But if that’s true, why is she personally involved in so many operational decisions?”
Indeed, multiple sources confirm that Visnauskas has influenced internal matters at RIOC, often behind closed doors. Which raises the question: Why is she enabling this level of dysfunction?
Is this simply neglect? Or is it something more intentional—a strategy of managed failure in an agency too small to stir political waves, yet too broken to function independently?
Based on the available evidence, it’s no longer just a question of passive oversight. RuthAnne Visnauskas is not only enabling neglect—she appears to be manufacturing it. Through her continued control over board appointments, the staff selected to execute policy, and the agenda-setting power behind each board meeting, she maintains a tight grip over RIOC’s internal direction. The result isn’t reform—it’s inertia, with every lever of power aligned to prevent scrutiny and suppress meaningful change.
If that’s not by design, then what is?
Can It Be Fixed?
No. Not as things stand.
The engineering challenges are formidable, but they’re not the true barrier. Roosevelt Island doesn’t suffer from a technological problem—it suffers from a political one. Without a full replacement of the existing board and a dramatic reduction in the overwhelming control exerted by New York State Homes and Community Renewal over RIOC’s daily operations, nothing meaningful will change.
The structure is the problem: a board with no independence, committees that serve no purpose, and agenda items micromanaged from above to avoid accountability rather than seek solutions.
Until that control is broken—and until leadership emerges that is empowered to act in the public interest—Roosevelt Island will continue to decay beneath the surface, both figuratively and literally.
The dream of a clean, self-contained island isn’t just at risk. It’s already being buried.
Final Word
AVAC was once a symbol of Roosevelt Island’s promise—a clean, self-contained vision for urban living. Today, it’s a mirror reflecting decades of political neglect, bureaucratic control, and a governing structure engineered to avoid responsibility rather than confront it.
The breakdown beneath our feet is not just mechanical—it’s institutional. A board that doesn’t lead. An agency without independence. And a housing authority that quietly manipulates the levers while the system fails in plain view.
At this point, the island doesn’t just need a cleanup—it needs a full vacuum. Not through rusted air ducts, but through the corridors of power that have grown clogged with inertia, unqualified appointees, and manufactured silence.
Until that happens, the garbage—political and literal—will keep piling up. Roosevelt Island’s problems aren’t underground anymore. They’re blowing right back in our faces.
Requests for comment have been sent to Bryant Daniels at RIOC and David Stone of The Roosevelt Island Daily regarding the future of the AVAC system and whether modernization efforts are being considered.