Rhode Island is facing a cultural identity crisis that critics are calling positively “spud-tacular.” Following toy giant Hasbro’s controversial decision to relocate its global headquarters from Pawtucket to Boston, Rhode Island officials are now debating a retaliatory measure that has sparked a viral firestorm: officially peeling the iconic Mr. Potato Head from the state’s specialty license plates. What started as a corporate relocation has spiraled into a weird Rhode Island news story for 2026, forcing the Ocean State to decide if it can separate the art from the artist—or in this case, the potato from the corporation.
The Great Potato Purge: A Matter of Self-Respect?
The controversy began in earnest this January when Republican State Representative Brian Newberry introduced legislation to halt the issuance of the beloved Mr. Potato Head license plates. The proposal is a direct response to Hasbro’s announcement that it will move its operations to Boston’s Seaport District by the end of 2026, ending a nearly century-long relationship with the state.
For lawmakers like Newberry, the move is a slap in the face that requires a firm response. “It’s a matter of self-respect,” Newberry stated in an email to constituents and press. He argues that Rhode Island should not be providing free mobile advertising for a company that has “abandoned” the state, causing what he describes as “untold economic harm and loss of tax revenue.” If the bill passes, the Rhode Island Division of Motor Vehicles (DMV) would cease production of the plates, effectively retiring the plastic tuber from official state duty.
Hasbro’s Move to Boston Shakes Pawtucket
The impetus for this legislative potato-peeling is Hasbro’s confirmed exit from Pawtucket, a city synonymous with the toy maker for decades. The company plans to transition roughly 700 jobs to a new high-rise on Summer Street in Boston, leaving a significant void in Rhode Island’s economy. Pawtucket Mayor Donald Grebian has publicly expressed his disappointment, calling the departure a “painful reality” for a community that has stood by the company for generations.
While the corporate logic involves accessing Boston’s talent pool and innovation ecosystem, the emotional toll on Rhode Islanders is palpable. The Mr. Potato Head controversy serves as a proxy for this deeper betrayal. For many, the license plate wasn’t just about a toy; it was a symbol of Rhode Island’s creative spirit and industrial history. Now, seeing that smiling spud on the bumper of a car feels to some like a reminder of an ex-partner who moved on to a flashier city.
Collateral Damage: The Food Bank Fallout
However, the proposed removal has a serious charitable side effect that has residents crying “mash.” The Mr. Potato Head license plate, first introduced in 2002 to celebrate the toy’s 50th anniversary, isn’t just a vanity item—it’s a fundraising engine. The plates cost approximately $40, with half of the proceeds going directly to the Rhode Island Community Food Bank.
Over the last two decades, this initiative has generated nearly $60,000 for the organization. Kate MacDonald, a spokesperson for the Food Bank, highlighted the plate's steady contribution to their mission. “Every source of support matters,” she noted, emphasizing that while the plate’s popularity may have peaked years ago, it remains a consistent way for drivers to help end hunger. Critics of the bill argue that removing the plate out of spite punishes the charity more than it punishes Hasbro.
Viral Outrage and the ‘Spud-tacular’ Debate
The proposal has ignited a fierce debate across social media, with locals weighing in on what is quickly becoming the weirdest Rhode Island news story of 2026. On platforms like X (formerly Twitter) and Reddit, users are divided. One faction supports the “scorched earth” policy, refusing to display the mascot of a company that left the state behind. “If they don’t want our tax incentives, they don’t get our bumpers,” one user wrote.
Conversely, a vocal group of nostalgia-lovers and charity advocates are demanding the state keep its eyes on the bigger picture. They argue that Mr. Potato Head transcends Hasbro corporate ownership and has become a genuine Rhode Island state symbol. “He’s a Rhode Islander first, a corporate asset second,” argued a viral post, spawning the hashtag #SaveTheSpud. Residents are concerned that the state is cutting off its nose to spite its face—pun intended—by removing a fun, charitable option from the DMV lineup.
What Happens Next for the Tuber?
As it stands, the legislation would only stop the issuance of new plates. Existing plate holders would likely be able to keep their spuds, turning the plastic potato into a rare collector’s item on the highways of I-95. As the General Assembly debates the bill, the fate of the most famous vegetable in toy history hangs in the balance, serving as a quirky, plastic symbol of a state grappling with economic change and local pride.
