Rhode Island Removes Mr Potato Head Plates After Hasbro Move

Rhode Island lawmakers are pushing to drop Mister Potato Head specialty license plates after Hasbro announced it will move its headquarters to Boston, sparking a debate over whether a state should continue offering a plate tied to a company that just left town.

Cities and states resent losing big employers because jobs and tax dollars often follow corporate headquarters. When a company relocates, local leaders naturally worry about the economic hit and the message it sends to residents who supported that business. Rhode Island’s reaction to Hasbro’s move to Massachusetts mixes practical concerns about revenue with a pointed question of civic pride.

Hasbro’s decision to leave Rhode Island triggered a legislative response centered on one small symbol: the Mister Potato Head specialty plate. Lawmakers argue that continuing to offer a plate tied to a company that just moved north looks like free advertising for an outfit that no longer contributes directly to Rhode Island’s economy. That perspective comes from a Republican lawmaker who framed the issue in terms of principle and self-respect.

It’s been no small potatoes that Rhode Islanders have been able to choose the image of Mr. Potato Head as a specialty license plate for decades.

Yet with Hasbro’s decision to move its headquarters from the smallest state in the U.S. to Boston, two lawmakers say it’s time to hash out whether Rhode Island should continue promoting one of the company’s most iconic characters.

The legislative proposal would direct the Division of Motor Vehicles to stop providing Mister Potato Head as an option for specialty plates. Supporters of the move point out that the plate raises money for the Rhode Island Community Food Bank, but they say that fiscal support does not outweigh the broader point about endorsing a product from a company that abandoned the state. Critics call this petty, noting the modest sums involved and the charitable benefits tied to the plate.

Representative Brian Newberry, a Republican from North Smithfield, argued the change is needed because Hasbro’s departure will inflict “untold economic harm and loss of tax revenue.” He said, “There is no reason we should be advertising their products on our license plates,” adding, “It may seem trivial compared to many other things but it’s a matter of self-respect.” That language captures the emotional core of the push: this is about more than plates, it’s about signaling that a state will not quietly promote a brand that left.

Under the proposal introduced earlier this month, Rhode Island’s Division of Motor Vehicles would stop providing Mr. Potato Head as an option for a specialty license plate. Currently the plate costs around $40, with half of that amount going to help support the Rhode Island Community Food Bank.

Rep. Brian Newberry, a Republican from North Smithfield, said in an email that he filed the legislation because Hasbro leaving the state will cause “untold economic harm and loss of tax revenue.”

“There is no reason we should be advertising their products on our license plates,” Newberry said. “It may seem trivial compared to many other things but it’s a matter of self-respect.”

There’s a political angle too. From a Republican standpoint, the move reads as a defense of state dignity and fairness: if a corporation exits, the state shouldn’t keep featuring its mascot on government property. That view treats specialty plates as state-sponsored recognition rather than neutral charity fundraising. For many conservatives, removing the plate is a proportional, symbolic response to a company relocating for financial advantage.

Opponents say the plate’s removal would punish drivers who chose it to support the food bank or simply because they like the character. They note that specialty plates are popular across the country and often raise funds for local causes, and that the Mister Potato Head plate has a long history in Rhode Island. Removing options could frustrate residents who see the decision as reactive rather than constructive.

The debate also touches on broader questions about how states should respond when big employers leave: pursue punitive symbolism, try to negotiate incentives to keep them, or focus on attracting new investment. Rhode Island’s lawmakers are choosing a symbolic route for now, testing how far public indignation can reach in matters that mix economics and identity. The outcome will be a small but telling marker of how states react when corporations shift their loyalties.

Meanwhile, the lighter side of this saga can’t be ignored. The Mister Potato Head plate inspired plenty of jokes and puns, but underneath the humor is a genuine conversation about what a state should display on its official plates and who those plates are meant to represent. Rhode Island faces the choice of standing down or making a statement, and that choice will resonate with voters who care about accountability and community support.

Whatever the decision, this episode highlights how even whimsical civic symbols can become flashpoints when business decisions cross state lines. The license plate debate is small potatoes in the scale of national politics, but in Rhode Island it’s become a perfect slice of the tensions between economic reality and civic pride.