Barbecue maker Napoleon has always been proud to be made-in-Canada. But a closer look shows the harsh reality of manufacturing at home

Globe and Mail

6 days ago

Napoleon BBQ has never shied away from waving the Canadian flag. It first strung up a Maple Leaf outside its plant on the outskirts of Barrie, Ont., in the 1980s, and the flag has become part of company lore because of what happened when founder Wolfgang Schroeter hopped on his motorcycle to get a glimpse of it from a nearby highway. He rode too fast, flew around a curve at high speed and skidded out on gravel. 'I was doing everything fast in those days,' Schroeter is quoted as saying in a book of Napoleon lore.
These days, the company's still moving fast, building out a brand that includes fireplaces, furnaces and HVAC systems, and it's waving the flag more vehemently.
In an open letter released in February, as U.S. President Donald Trump launched his tariff war on imports from Canada, Schroeter and his family urged consumers to rally behind homegrown manufacturers. 'As the economy faces uncertainty,' they wrote, 'we invite you to join us in strongly supporting not only Napoleon but all Canadian businesses.'
The letter's we-are-Canadian message—signed by Wolfgang, his wife and co-founder, Ingrid, and their sons Chris and Stephen, who now serve as co-CEOs—could make Napoleon barbecues a hot choice this grilling season as the trade war rages on. 'People are definitely looking for Canadian stuff,' says Ethan Barlow, a sales associate at Barbecues Galore in Edmonton. 'We've really noticed it since the tariff talks started.'
Take a closer look at Napoleon's barbecues, though, and you'll find evidence of the harsh reality of manufacturing in Canada: While its high-end Prestige line is made here, its lower-end grills are all produced in China—a fact the company is transparent about. 'We'd love to manufacture everything here,' says Chris Schroeter, but it just isn't possible.
To stay competitive with big-name brands like Weber, Napoleon started offshoring in the late 1990s, though it still aims to make as many of its products as it can in Ontario. Ultimately, 55% of its revenue comes from made-in-Canada products, says vice-president of marketing Garry Scott. Napoleon's commitment to domestic manufacturing makes it a major employer in the province's Simcoe County region. More than 1,000 people work at its three plants outside Barrie and at a fourth in Mississauga.
Napoleon hasn't escaped the impact of tariffs and Trump's trade rhetoric—U.S. sales represent almost 30% of its barbecue revenue, and it's already had to raise prices there to offset import costs to its U.S. distribution centre. But it's still aiming for growth south of the border (where marketing focuses on the company's motto, 'Innovation Built Better'), as well as in Europe, where the made-in-Canada message also appeals. 'We're finding the story really resonates.'
So while other businesses lament the trade war, Napoleon isn't fretting. The company that's as made-in-Canada-as-it-can-be won't reveal sales figures or say how much the tariff war has impacted orders and sales, but Scott says with a delighted smile that so far, Napoleon is having a 'very good year.'
Step inside the corporate headquarters at 24 (wait for it) Napoleon Rd., and there's no question you've entered a family business. Instead of bland corporate art, a giant wooden-relief portrait of Napoleon riding a horse hangs on one wall. On another are framed ads that the company ran in 2018 to introduce Chris and Stephen as the new CEOs, with photos of them as children and taglines like, 'Our parents taught us it was okay to play with fire.'
What's even clearer is how intensely proud the Schroeters are of the business they've built. The Art of Fire, the self-published history they like to give visitors, meticulously documents the family's trajectory, from Wolfgang's birth in 1949 and his early years in Germany (home to more motorcycle crashes), through details of the couple meeting in Kitchener, Ont., to the launch of a company that now sells its products in more than 70 countries.
Stuffed with corporate ephemera including drawings from Wolfgang's trade-school workbooks, receipts from early suppliers and photos from dozens of company events, it's exhaustive, a little goofy (one former employee makes an appearance in photos dressed as a fairy) and full of the sturdy pragmatism that built the company: The third of five business convictions the book lists as core to Chris and Stephen's beliefs is, 'Decisions based on common sense, and firm values go a long way.'
Ingrid and Wolfgang, both now in their 70s, officially stepped away after handing the reins to their sons, but it's clear they still like to be involved. Wolfgang continues to assist with R&D, and Ingrid still takes on projects like the new book they're preparing to commemorate the company's upcoming 50th anniversary. 'If we don't like something, we say, 'You've got to improve it,'' Ingrid says, rapping her knuckles on the table. There's a smile on her face but a no-nonsense tone in her voice. She means it.
In many ways, the story of the company she and her husband founded in the 1970s is an old-fashioned one—the kind of immigrant-makes-good narrative that's become rarer in Canada lately. Ingrid sums it up matter-of-factly: 'If you work hard, you get somewhere, especially in Canada.' Though the facts suggest there's more to it than that.
Wolfgang, a tool-and-die maker who arrived in Canada in 1969, launched his first business making metal railings and wrought-iron patio furniture, but soon moved into wood stoves. A skilled tradesman with a keen eye for innovation, he built a stove for his father-in-law, and his design proved not only viable but appealing—a neighbour soon requested one. Not long after that, he and Ingrid founded Wolf Steel (the official name of the company that owns Napoleon) and began making stoves out of a rented facility in Barrie. Wolfgang handled the design and manufacturing, while Ingrid oversaw sales and admin.
The company thrived, helped by the oil crisis of 1979, which sent sales skyrocketing as North Americans looked for alternate ways to heat their homes. As business grew, the Schroeters moved into gas-powered products, including fireplaces and inserts, but the focus on cold-weather items created a challenge: Demand was highly seasonal. The company's lines operated at capacity during the first half of the year, making inventory for the busy fall sales season, but after that, orders dropped, and staff had to be laid off. So in 1995, the Schroeters plugged the seasonal gap by introducing a new offering, cooking grills, with a production schedule that was the opposite: They're typically produced in the latter half of the year and shipped to stores in time for early spring. 'We needed to keep production going,' Ingrid says, 'and we wanted to keep our staff working.'
The name the Schroeters chose for their barbecue brand was one they'd established with a line of stoves: Napoleon. They borrowed it from a bottle of brandy Wolfgang spotted in a liquor store when he was looking for inspiration for decorative elements to add to the stoves' doors. The name appealed to them because it represented 'power and prestige,' Chris says, and they've leaned into the image in the past, hiring people to dress as Napoleon and walk the floor at corporate events and trade shows.
Today, barbecues represent 65% of total sales, and Napoleon is aiming to become a top brand in a crowded category where big U.S. players like Weber, Traeger, Pit Boss and Char-Broil eat up sizeable chunks of the market.
From the beginning, Napoleon has aimed to create a niche for itself at the higher end of the market—the priciest model in its Prestige line, the Pro 825, has six burners, an integrated smoker and rotisserie, and room to grill as many as 51 burgers. The Pro 825 sells for about $6,000, and at that price, the company can afford to manufacture it in Canada. (The line's material costs have so far been relatively unaffected by tariffs, Scott says, since the steel used to make them is primarily Canadian.)
But to dominate the barbecue category, Napoleon needs to sell at lower price points, too, and that's where it encounters the challenges faced by many Canadian manufacturers. Its less expensive barbecues are made at two facilities it owns in Guangzhou, China, where lower labour and material costs enable them to make models that sell for under $1,000. Later this year, it will also open a manufacturing facility in Mexico, a move the company needs to make to stay competitive, says president Mike Tzimas.
Tzimas, who joined in 2020 from the auto industry, says Napoleon is 'very protective' of the made-in-Canada status of many of its products, but making everything here simply isn't viable. The term 'made in Canada' can itself be misleading: Federal regulators don't require a product to be 100% sourced and manufactured here to receive the designation. Products are labelled 'made in Canada' if more than 50% of the cost of making them has been incurred in Canada, and the last significant transformation—for barbecues, that means assembly—happens here.
In the case of some barbecue parts—including ones used to make the Prestige line—the challenge isn't that sourcing them in Canada would be more expensive, Tzimas says. It's that no Canadian—or, in many cases, North American—supplier exists. 'We do as much as we can here,' he says, but expanding the company's Ontario manufacturing operations would require the sort of investment it can't afford to make on its own. And government support isn't likely to come, Tzimas says, in part because Napoleon's size puts it in a 'sort of no-man's land.' It's too big to get the loans and subsidies that small businesses receive, and too small for the direct partnerships that industry leaders like Magna or Linamar benefit from. 'We're somewhere in the middle, which makes things difficult.'
Brendan Sweeney, managing director of the Trillium Network for Advanced Manufacturing, credits the company with building a business that can support 1,000 Canadian workers and remain globally competitive. As for sourcing parts or making entire models in China, there's virtually no way to avoid that given how the global supply system has evolved over the past few decades, he says. 'There's no putting the toothpaste back in the tube. As much as possible, Napoleon is sticking to its roots. But if your competitors are in China or Mexico, you've got to be there, too.'
Mass-market sales are critical for growth, not only because of the high sales volume they represent but because of the exposure they offer: Research conducted for Napoleon indicates that 70% of gas-grill consumers remember brand names, so having a presence in chain stores helps establish brand awareness that the company can leverage to sell its other products. Only 4% of fireplace and furnace buyers, by comparison, can recall the name of a manufacturer.
In Canada, Napoleon products are carried by big-name chains like Home Depot and Lowe's, but in the U.S., the brand hasn't penetrated in-store yet, though its products are sold online by the big players and through an extensive network of dealers. The company has invested 'tens of millions' of dollars building name recognition south of the border, where it highlights quality and innovative features like illuminated knobs that change colour to show whether the gas is turned on or off.
The current economic headwinds have 'added complexities,' Tzimas says, joking that he can now recite parts of Section 232 of the U.S. Trade Expansion Act off the top of his head. He started holding twice-weekly meetings with high-level staff in November, he says, when Trump's threats began, to talk through possible scenarios. 'I probably know more about tariffs than I should,' he says as he turns to a whiteboard and starts drawing a diagram of inventory moving between territories, and how and where tariffs apply.
As of April, Napoleon has raised prices in the U.S. by about 10% to cover tariff expenses, after having already incurred about $1 million in fees during the early stages of Trump's threats, when it wasn't clear whether they'd stick. 'But we're not panicking,' Tzimas says. The company has dealt with supply chain issues in the past, he notes, especially during the pandemic, when demand for barbecues soared and the company had to ramp up production during a turbulent time for suppliers. 'We're staying focused and hoping cooler heads prevail.'
Beyond trade wars, barbecue manufacturers face other challenges, too. Grilling traditions vary across cultures and regions, Tzimas says, so the same product mix doesn't work everywhere. The French have a penchant for griddles and planchas, while southern Europeans like charcoal grills. Germany has a gas-grill culture that's similar to Canada's, though when Napoleon first tried selling barbecues there in 1998, the Germans were skeptical—the grills were too big for their outdoor spaces. (It adapted by making smaller models with foldable side shelves.)
Consumer tastes are constantly changing, as well. Lately, that's meant more interest in electric grills. Napoleon responded by launching a full-size electric model this past Earth Day, with Wi-Fi and bluetooth connections that let barbecuers monitor and manage their burgers and steaks via an app.
Napoleon prides itself on its innovation. One of the reasons its early wood stoves took off was the glass door Wolfgang designed, a unique feature that he anticipated would appeal to customers. Employees are encouraged to contribute ideas to improve Napoleon's products and production lines, and on a recent day in April, a whiteboard near one assembly line boasted four ideas for increasing output. Currently, Napoleon's most significant R&D efforts focus on creating products for the net zero home, a category it aims to expand into in the future.
As for whether Trump's 51st-state threats will drive more Canadians to buy Napoleon barbecues, Sweeney isn't entirely convinced. Consumers are fickle, he says. 'Canadians like to think they'll pay more or drive an extra five kilometres to buy Canadian, but if Home Depot is closer, that's where they end up going.' So while surveys show that Canadians say they want to support Canadian businesses, Sweeney has never seen conclusive research that links that sentiment to actual purchasing decisions.
In the end, though, that may not matter. Napoleon's Canadianness is helping to establish its brand, and the company deserves credit for growing as big as it has and not selling. 'We need more companies like this,' says Sweeney. 'Canada is like a Christmas tree farm. We're good at growing trees, but when they get to a certain size, we cut them down.'
Tzimas says the company has no plans to stop flag-waving, even when the trade war ends. 'There's no us-versus-them mentality. Regardless of the political rhetoric, we've got great partners [in the U.S.], and we're going to continue to grow the brand. But that doesn't mean we can't be proudly Canadian. I think you can hold both simultaneously: We love our neighbour, and we're proud to be Canadian.'
As for the company's flagpole, Wolfgang picked himself up that day back in the 1980s. The gravel deeply embedded in his skin was painful, so he rode his bike back to HQ without taking a good look at the new pole. But fastidious to the end, he drove back later in a car, and he liked what he saw: He'd planted his flag in the perfect location.
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