Building a Dream With Michael Savage of New Canaan, CT

Picture this: a room full of grown adults, surrounded by colorful plastic bricks, arguing passionately about whether a tiny Lego astronaut should have a smirk or a stoic grin. 

Welcome to the wild, whimsical world of Lego set design—a place where creativity meets precision engineering, and stepping on a brick is just another day at the office.

I’ve written a lot about the ways to start a Lego collection, but have you ever wondered how those collections get built?

I have, and so I did some research to educate myself and other Lego lovers about how these sets go from idea to plastic bricks ready to be built. 

So let’s start at the beginning.

 

Step 1: The Idea—Where Brick Dreams Are Born

It all starts with a spark of genius—or, more likely, a caffeine-fueled brainstorm. Lego designers, a quirky bunch of artists, engineers, and eternal kids, gather to dream up the next big set. 

Want a 4,000-piece replica of the Titanic? 

A fully functional typewriter? 

A baby Yoda with posable ears? 

Nothing’s off the table. These ideas often come from a mix of pop culture trends, fan suggestions, and the designers’ own obsessions—like that one guy who really loves medieval falconry.

But it’s not all fun and games (well, it mostly is). Designers have to balance creativity with practicality. 

Can this set be built by a 10-year-old without turning the instruction manual into a tear-soaked plea for help? Will it survive the inevitable drop from the coffee table? And—most importantly—can it be made without bankrupting the company? Spoiler: those little bricks aren’t cheap.

Step 2: The Prototype—Building the Brick Blueprint

Once an idea gets the green light, it’s time to build prototypes. Designers use specialized software to create 3D models, ensuring every piece fits like, well, Lego. 

But here’s the kicker: Lego has a library of over 3,700 unique brick shapes, and designers are encouraged to reuse existing ones rather than invent new molds. 

Why? 

Because creating a new mold costs about as much as a small car—roughly $50,000 to $200,000 per shape. So, if you’re wondering why that spaceship’s wing looks suspiciously like a castle turret, now you know.

Prototypes are then built by hand, tested for stability (read: chucked across the room), and tweaked until they’re perfect. Fun fact: Lego’s tolerances are so tight that every brick is manufactured to within 0.002 millimeters of perfection. That’s less than the width of a human hair. Try explaining that to your kid when they swear the pieces “don’t fit.”

Step 3: The Factory—Where Plastic Becomes Magic

Now, let’s jet off to one of Lego’s top-secret factories—okay, not that secret; they’re mostly in Denmark, Mexico, and the Czech Republic. Here, raw plastic pellets (acrylonitrile butadiene styrene, if you’re fancy) are melted down at temperatures hotter than your oven’s pizza setting. The molten goo is injected into those pricey molds, cooled, and spat out as shiny new bricks at a rate of millions per day. Seriously, Lego pumps out about 36,000 pieces per minute. That’s enough to build a small army of minifigs before lunch.

The bricks are then sorted, bagged, and boxed by machines so precise they could probably perform surgery. But don’t worry—humans still oversee the chaos, making sure no one sneaks a rogue googly eye into the Death Star set. (Though, honestly, that’d be awesome.)

Step 4: The Stress Test—Surviving the Kidpocalypse

Before a set hits the shelves, it faces the ultimate trial: quality control. Lego hires “master builders” to assemble every set, ensuring the instructions make sense and the build doesn’t collapse like a house of cards in a hurricane. 

They also test for durability—think drop tests, twist tests, and the dreaded “will it survive a toddler tantrum?” test. If a brick cracks or a minifig’s head pops off too easily, it’s back to the drawing board.

Oh, and those clutchy little connectors? Lego calls it “clutch power”—the perfect balance of sticking together and pulling apart without requiring a crowbar or a prayer. It’s why you can build a skyscraper one day and dismantle it the next, all without swearing (too much).

Step 5: The Launch—From Factory to Frenzy

Finally, the set is ready. It’s shipped to stores worldwide, where it’ll either sell out in minutes (looking at you, Millennium Falcon collectors) or sit sadly on clearance (sorry, obscure Danish lighthouse). 

Fans line up, wallets trembling, while designers watch from afar, hoping their brick baby becomes a hit. 

And if it flops? 

Well, there’s always next year’s 17th version of the Batmobile.

Fun Brick Facts to Impress Your Friends

  • Lego is the world’s largest tire manufacturer. Yep, those tiny rubber wheels outnumber real car tires—over 400 million annually.
  • If you stacked all the Lego bricks ever made, they’d reach the moon… ten times over.
  • The name “Lego” comes from the Danish “leg godt,” meaning “play well.” Coincidentally, it also means “I assemble” in Latin. Spooky, right?

The Takeaway

Building and collecting Legos remains a timeless hobby. But, behind every Lego set is a symphony of creativity, engineering, and a dash of absurdity. 

It’s a process that turns plastic into joy, one brick at a time—while secretly plotting to dominate your living room floor. 

So next time you’re cursing a missing piece or marveling at a finished masterpiece, tip your hat to the unsung heroes of Billund. They’re the real MVPs, building a world where even adults can play like kids… and then spend 20 minutes looking for that one clear 1×1 stud under the couch.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a Lego dragon to assemble—and a foot to ice.

 

ABOUT MICHAEL SAVAGE 

Savage of New Canaan, CT is the Founder of 1-800Accountant that helps businesses with their accounting services and needs through cutting-edge technology and customer support. 

In his spare time, Savage enjoys creating unique koi ponds, collecting Michael Jordan sneakers, and building muscle cars. He and his wife also spearhead the Savage-Rivera foundation to help impoverished families in Honduras.