What Happens When Conviction Meets Catastrophe

Sometimes I think I must be crazy.

I’m moving into a space where billions burned. Black Soldier Fly companies—the ones with $200 million factories and sophisticated automation—they’re wreckage now.

So why would I enter this industry?

Because maybe that’s exactly the point. Maybe conviction only matters when everyone else has fled.

Here’s why I’m still building.

Look, I see the evidence.

Over $4 billion destroyed between 2010 and 2024. These companies chased protein markets where insect protein costs $3,000-4,000 per ton while soy sits at $500. The math didn’t work. Buyers wouldn’t pay 4-6x premiums just for sustainability points. The “green premium”? Temporary ESG subsidies that evaporated when trials ended and favorable economics didn’t materialize.

Add substrate competition with entrenched feed manufacturers. Regulatory restrictions on using actual waste. Contracting climate tech funding. “FOAK fatigue”—investors exhausted by First-of-a-Kind facility risks.

Any rational analysis says high risk.

So what makes me different?

Three convictions. Not rationalizations—fundamentally different starting points.

I am from New York City. We have a waste problem that is significant.

That is my lens for the insect industry.

When I discovered Black Soldier Fly technology, my first thought wasn’t “how do I make insect protein profitable?” It was “this could clean up New York.”

That inversion changes everything.

Different starting question. Different business model.

New York generates 1.8 million tons of organic waste annually. We pay $216 per ton in landfill fees—and rising. By 2030, organics must be diverted from landfills entirely. Commercial Organics Law covers 8,500+ establishments. Citywide curbside composting is mandatory.

This isn’t speculative demand. This is regulatory mandates creating guaranteed revenue while competitors retreat.

The economics of protein was always secondary for me. The economics of waste processing was always primary.

When you start with waste processing, you build a dual revenue model. Revenue from waste collection covers operational costs. Then you add product revenue—larvae, fertilizer, eventually energy. If one market softens, the other sustains you. Anti-fragility built into the structure.

The failed companies bet on premium protein markets. I’m betting NYC’s waste is valuable, and BSF is the biological key.

Different problem. Different economics.

Authentic circular thinking starts with “what do we have?”

It’s a skill I learned from my parents, immigrants from rural Barbados.

In agricultural communities where resources are constrained, nothing gets wasted because waste is an error you can’t afford. You reuse. You save. You barter. You find value in everything because you must. My parents brought that worldview with them to the Bronx. It shaped my life. It shaped my brand of entrepreneurship.

I didn’t learn circular economy from business school case studies or sustainability conferences. I learned it watching how actual people operate when interdependence is unavoidable.

I embody it as a way of thinking. It is not just a business model, an ESG investment narrative, or a box to tick for sustainability reports.

That difference is everything.

When you’re raised to ask “what do we have?” instead of “how much can we raise?”, you build differently. Modular instead of massive. Patient instead of rushed. Integrated instead of optimized for single outputs.

This solution speaks to me not because I’m capitalizing on a trend. It speaks to me because it’s how I’ve been taught to see the world since childhood.

New York already has many pieces of a beautifully integrated system.

Waste collection infrastructure. Regulatory mandates. Processing capacity for some materials. A desire to rebuild manufacturing in NYC. BSF is the hidden unlock that connects them.

Right now, these pieces exist in isolation. Organic waste goes to landfills. Fertilizer comes from synthetic production. Animal feed is imported from agricultural regions. Energy from fossil fuels. Each piece operates independently, missing the value that integration creates.

What if biological processing reconnected them?

Urban organic waste becomes feedstock. BSF larvae convert it to protein for local agriculture. Frass becomes organic fertilizer. Processing residues generate energy. Urban nutrients return to rural farms. The system closes the loop.

This isn’t just better waste management—it’s different urban metabolism.

If this works in New York City, it becomes a template for every city over 500,000 population. Not because of altruism. Because the economics make sense when you integrate instead of isolate.

I’m not trying to win waste management. I’m trying to prove that cities can metabolize their own organic material profitably.

I could be crazy.

But here’s what I’m seeing: the timing is right in ways it’s never been before.

New York has mandatory organics diversion creating structural demand. Rising landfill costs making alternatives economically viable. Proven BSF technology that’s been processing organic matter for billions of years. Regulatory support for circular economy solutions.

The market is being constructed by policy right now. While competitors flee the protein game, the waste problem grows larger and more urgent.

Here’s what we’re building:

Step one: Prove unit economics at pilot scale. Show that waste-first model works with real streams, real customers, real revenue.

Step two: Lock in commercial partnerships. Build relationships with waste generators who need compliant solutions.

Step three: Demonstrate that waste-first creates structural advantages. Dual revenue. Integration benefits. Regulatory alignment.

Step four: Show other cities the template. If it works in NYC—the hardest market—it works everywhere.

The difference between this and what failed?

We’re starting with the problem, not the product. Building for necessity, not speculation. Integrating systems instead of optimizing single outputs.

The wreckage taught me exactly what not to do. I didn’t have to burn billions learning those lessons—other companies paid that tuition for me.

Or… Maybe I’m crazy.

But I’m building anyway.

Building Integrated Organic Solutions in New York City. If you see waste differently—if you believe biology beats chemistry for organic processing—if you’re building something that looks counterintuitive but structurally sound—we should talk.