Build-A-Bear’s comeback is a reminder that American entrepreneurship still works when leaders stop apologizing for profit and start serving customers. Nearly 30 years after the first storefront opened, the company is reporting record revenue and profitability by doing something simple and effective: focusing on experience, not bureaucracy. That’s what happens when executives empower teams to innovate instead of bowing to the latest corporate virtue-signaling checklist.
The secret weapon has been turning a toy store into a destination—competing with theme parks by making memories, not just transactions. Smart licensing deals with Pokémon, Harry Potter, Disney and even cult hits like Stranger Things have turned plush toys into social currency for millennials and Gen Z, and an age-gated online shop brought adults back through the door. This is market-led nostalgia at work: private companies finding demand and meeting it, no government instruction manual required.
Numbers back the strategy. Stores that sat underperforming a decade ago are now profitable, adults account for roughly two in five customers, and the company’s top-line figures have hit levels many wrote off as impossible. That kind of turnaround is what you get when management treats customers like humans with real desires and when capital markets reward competence instead of political theater.
Still, the business is not immune to bad policy. Tariffs on imports threaten to eat into margins for a company that sources much of its merchandise overseas, and those added costs land squarely on shoppers and small businesses. Conservatives who care about working families should be blunt: tariffs are a hidden tax on consumers and fruitless theater for politicians who prefer signaling to sound economic stewardship.
There’s a cultural side to Build-A-Bear’s rise that ought to make conservatives smile. The brand sells childhood, innocence and connection at a time when kids are tethered to screens and big tech profits from isolation. Encouraging real-world play and intergenerational bonding is not just good business; it’s society-building, and businesses that foster family and community deserve praise and support.
Sharon Price John’s leadership—rooted in an old-fashioned work ethic and an eye for what people actually want—shows what corporate America looks like when it remembers its purpose. Let this be a lesson to policymakers: make life easier for entrepreneurs, stop piling on unpredictable trade costs, and let American companies keep creating jobs and joy. Build-A-Bear didn’t wait for permission to win; it got in the arena and built something ordinary Americans can be proud of.
