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From IT boardrooms to 10 million bricks: The Brickman's unlikely empire

Ryan McNaught parlayed a cease-and-desist letter into a global LEGO business, and a new Bendigo exhibition shows just how far plastic bricks can travel.

From IT boardrooms to 10 million bricks: The Brickman's unlikely empire
Image: Sydney Morning Herald
Key Points 3 min read
  • Ryan McNaught left an 18-year IT career in 2008 to build a full-time LEGO business from his garage in Tullamarine, near Melbourne.
  • He is one of only 24 LEGO Certified Professionals worldwide and the only one in the southern hemisphere.
  • His new exhibition in Bendigo features a 7.5-metre rocket and a life-size Mars Rover replica, running until November 2026.
  • A custom C3PO sculpture required 20,000 specially made bricks at about four euros each, costing roughly $140,000 in total.
  • Brickman now employs 38 full-time staff and has exhibitions running across six countries in 2025.

There is a moment in most corporate careers when the absurdity of office life becomes impossible to ignore. For Ryan McNaught, that moment arrived during a management meeting at which his boss called for a meeting about the number of meetings being held. His eyes, as he tells it, rolled back in his head. Within a few years he had walked away from an 18-year information technology career, including a role as chief information officer, and set up a LEGO workshop in his garage in Tullamarine.

That was 2008. Today, The Brickman is a 38-person operation warehoused near Melbourne Airport, with exhibitions running this year across Canada, France, South Korea, the Philippines, the United States, and Australia. The numbers speak for themselves: at any given time, between two million and ten million LEGO bricks sit on site, sourced in bulk from Billund, Denmark.

The pivot was not without its rocky moments. Shortly after McNaught hacked a LEGO Mindstorms kit so his robot could be controlled from an iPad, he uploaded the program to an enthusiast forum. Lego's legal team responded with a cease-and-desist letter. Two weeks later, a second letter arrived from a different part of the company, with a very different tone. That exchange set him on the path to becoming a Certified LEGO Professional, a designation held by just 24 people globally, making McNaught, at 53, the only one in the southern hemisphere, as confirmed by LEGO's own profile of him.

The business case was built on personal risk and remarkably modest expectations. McNaught and his wife agreed he had six months to make the hobby pay before returning to IT. He started by taking any commission he could find: birthday parties, custom models, whatever kept the lights on. Two years in, he hired a co-worker. By the time he moved to his current Tullamarine warehouse, there were five staff. The team now stands at 38.

The latest showcase for that team's work is CURIOSITY: Building Breakthroughs in LEGO Bricks, which opened this week at Bendigo's Discovery Science and Technology Centre and runs until 29 November 2026. Originally commissioned for Questacon in Canberra, the exhibition includes a life-size replica of the Mars Rover Perseverance, a 7.5-metre-tall rocket, and a periodic table in which each element is illustrated with objects containing it. McNaught describes the philosophy as "education by stealth": STEM content packaged as play, aimed squarely at children who would otherwise scroll past a science lesson.

That framing raises a fair question about what formal education budgets cannot achieve on their own. School excursions and science centres have always played a supplementary role, and privately funded exhibitions like this one fill a gap that public institutions cannot always cover. The tension between accessibility and commercial ticketing is real: admission to the Bendigo show starts at $18 for children, which will price some families out.

On the production side, McNaught operates with a discipline that would satisfy any supply-chain manager. His team uses only standard LEGO pieces, buying in bulk and running what he calls a just-in-time manufacturing model. The aspiration is deliberate: if the bricks on display are the same ones sitting in a child's bedroom, the gap between professional and amateur feels bridgeable. There was one costly exception. A life-size C3PO sculpture for a Star Wars exhibition required a gold-tone brick that standard production could not provide. McNaught had roughly 20,000 custom two-by-four and two-by-six bricks made at about four euros each, arriving at a bill of close to $140,000 for a single sculpture.

Strip away the whimsy and the fundamentals show a legitimate small-to-medium business built on intellectual property, a globally scarce professional credential, and a product with near-universal brand recognition. The risks McNaught took in 2008 were real; the payoff, measured in staff headcount and international reach, has been substantial. For anyone watching from a career crossroads, the lesson is less about LEGO and more about the compound returns on genuine expertise.

Sources (7)
Darren Ong
Darren Ong

Darren Ong is an AI editorial persona created by The Daily Perspective. Writing about fintech, property tech, ASX-listed tech companies, and the digital disruption of traditional industries. As an AI persona, articles are generated using artificial intelligence with editorial quality controls.