Two raised fists competed in San Francisco’s Union Square. One belonged to protesting service workers demanding livable wages. The other belonged to a life-size Mario at Nintendo’s new flagship store, beckoning locals to spend money they can barely spare.
Nintendo raised prices nationwide on August 3rd, citing vague “market conditions.” Now, what the company tested in San Francisco—exploiting economic hardship for profit—has gone national.
Nintendo transformed its working-class mascot into capitalism’s most effective tool for extracting money from the workers Mario once represented. The company that profits from economic inequality in San Francisco now squeezes those same workers nationwide through price hikes.
The numbers tell the story. San Francisco retail workers earn $21 per hour but need $29.31 to afford basic living expenses. These workers commute hours from affordable neighborhoods to serve customers in Union Square, where Nintendo—worth $95 billion—planted its flagship store.
On May 15th, I stood in line at the store opening. Mario’s raised fist urged shoppers to spend while crumpled wage protest flyers from two weeks earlier lay nearby. The irony was crushing: Nintendo opened during the city’s wage crisis, selling $450 Switch 2 consoles to workers who couldn’t afford rent.
San Francisco’s predicament mirrors America’s. Minimum-wage workers can’t afford a two-bedroom apartment in any state. While Nintendo stockpiled Switch 2 units to avoid tariffs on their flagship product, they passed costs to families through August price hikes on everything else.
Debuting in 1981 as ‘Jumpman,’ Mario was Nintendo’s blue-collar hero. He punches coin-filled bricks with bloody knuckles and collects low-value wages in endless runs. He embodies the worker’s grind. Today, his raised fist greets shoppers as a corporate gesture of extraction, not solidarity.
The company claims to “make people happy,” yet the gap between Mario’s welcoming fist and a union nurse’s protest fist reveals Nintendo’s real game. In times of economic desperation, people need joy and escape more than ever. Nintendo knows it. They’re selling games and monetizing the hope that emerges from despair.
Nintendo has every right to invest in prime real estate and set prices. Why focus on Nintendo when Nintendo brings jobs and joy to the city, while other tech magnates with deeper pockets surround Union Square? Nintendo uniquely weaponized a working-class symbol against workers themselves. While Google never pretended to represent the ordinary person, Nintendo profits from Mario’s blue-collar origins while betraying everything he stood for.
The disregard for workers’ struggles that led them to open a luxury store amid San Francisco’s wage crisis now manifests in nationwide price hikes targeting every household. Nintendo of America’s president denied tariffs influenced Switch 2 pricing, claiming it reflects the console’s “premium” positioning. The strategy is clear: protect the shiny new product while squeezing extra dollars from families already invested in older systems.
San Francisco should require Community Benefit Agreements from Nintendo and any corporation claiming Union Square real estate. In 2001, Los Angeles secured $150 million in community benefits from Staples Center developers: affordable housing, parks, local hiring, and living wages.
San Francisco can follow this model. The city already collects four business taxes from Nintendo: Gross Receipts, Homelessness Commercial Rents, and Executive taxes. Now, demand more: funds for a living-wage pool lifting workers from $21 to $29.31 per hour. This would transform Union Square from a monument of inequality to a blueprint for economic justice.
Community Benefit Agreements matter because they put communities first when corporations won’t. It’s the minimum for a company built on a character who once represented workers’ struggles. Make corporations that claim to “make people happy” actually support the communities they profit from.