30 December 2025

On New Year’s Eve, the sky itself becomes part of the countdown. Across continents, fireworks mark the moment when one year gives way to the next—sometimes in carefully choreographed public displays, sometimes through millions of private fuses lit at street level. The ritual feels timeless. Yet the tradition has a clear origin, a global industrial supply chain, and—particularly in Europe—an increasingly contested future.

As countries reassess safety, environmental impact, and public costs, fireworks are no longer just celebration. They have become a policy issue, a trade issue, and a test case for how traditions adapt under pressure.

From noise to ritual: the origins of fireworks

The earliest ancestors of fireworks did not involve explosives at all. Around 200 BC, people in China discovered that hollow bamboo stalks, when thrown into fire, could produce loud cracking sounds as heated air expanded inside. The noise itself became meaningful—used in rituals intended to ward off evil spirits and mark significant moments.

The real transformation came with the invention of black powder. By the 10th century, Chinese sources describe the use of gunpowder mixtures for entertainment and signaling, centuries before their widespread military application elsewhere. Fireworks evolved into controlled bursts of light and sound, combining chemistry, craftsmanship, and ritual meaning.

As knowledge of gunpowder spread westward via trade routes, fireworks followed. By the Renaissance, they had become part of courtly spectacle in Europe, used to celebrate royal weddings, military victories, and religious festivals. Fireworks were never merely decorative; they were demonstrations of power, precision, and technological mastery.

By the late 18th century, fireworks crossed another threshold: mass civic celebration. In the United States, fireworks became part of Independence Day observances almost immediately after 1776, helping to establish the idea that national milestones deserved to be marked in the sky. That association—fireworks as punctuation for collective time—has endured.

Where fireworks remain central to New Year’s Eve

Today, fireworks are used worldwide, but their role differs sharply between regions.

In much of Europe, New Year’s Eve has traditionally combined large municipal displays with widespread consumer use. Countries such as Germany and the Netherlands developed strong traditions of private fireworks, with entire neighborhoods participating at midnight. Over time, however, the strain on emergency services, combined with injuries, vandalism, and enforcement challenges, has turned that tradition into a political issue.

In North and South America, fireworks remain culturally important but are more tightly segmented. In the United States, New Year’s Eve fireworks are typically large-scale, professionally managed city events, while consumer fireworks are more strongly associated with Independence Day. The Americas’ vast consumer market has also shaped the global fireworks supply chain.

In parts of Asia and the Middle East, fireworks have become tools of global branding. Cities such as Dubai and Sydney have turned New Year’s Eve displays into international media events, designed for live broadcasts and social media reach as much as for local audiences.

A crucial distinction runs through all these regions: professional displays versus consumer fireworks. Many countries continue to invest in large public shows even as they restrict or ban private fireworks use.

Made in China: the global fireworks supply chain

Despite their local feel, fireworks are overwhelmingly global products—and that global production is highly concentrated.

China dominates fireworks manufacturing by a wide margin. Industry reporting and trade data consistently show that the vast majority of consumer fireworks and most professional display fireworks sold worldwide are produced in China. In the United States alone, nearly all consumer fireworks and around 90 percent of professional display fireworks are imported from Chinese manufacturers.

Within China, production is clustered geographically. The city of Liuyang, in Hunan province, is frequently cited as a central hub, with centuries of craft tradition and a dense network of specialized factories. This concentration explains why, despite rising safety standards and international scrutiny, fireworks manufacturing has remained difficult to relocate at scale.

The global dependence on a single country has made the industry vulnerable to shipping disruptions, tariffs, and regulatory shifts—issues that become visible every New Year’s season when shortages or price increases hit consumer markets.

Companies shaping the fireworks industry

The fireworks world spans small family firms and large international operators. Among the best-documented and most visible players are:

• Fireworks by Grucci (United States) – A long-established family company known for major public displays, including national and international events.

• Pyrotecnico (United States) – A professional fireworks and special effects firm that has also expanded into drone light shows.

• WECO Pyrotechnische Fabrik (Germany) – One of Europe’s largest fireworks manufacturers.

• Jorge Fireworks (Poland) – A major European producer and distributor supplying multiple national markets.

• Phantom Fireworks (United States) – A leading consumer fireworks retailer, frequently referenced in industry reporting.

• Miracle Fireworks (China) – A Liuyang-based manufacturer highlighted in business reporting for its export role.

These companies operate at different points in the value chain, but all are affected by tightening regulations and shifting public expectations.

The Netherlands: approaching the end of consumer fireworks

Few countries illustrate this shift toward tighter regulation more clearly than the Netherlands.

In July 2025, the Dutch Senate approved the Wet veilige jaarwisseling (Safe New Year’s Eve Act), laying the groundwork for a nationwide ban on consumer fireworks. Under the new framework, only category F1 fireworks—low-hazard items such as sparklers—will remain legal for private use as of the 2026/2027 year change. 

The legislation reflects years of debate around injuries, property damage, enforcement capacity, and the annual burden on emergency services. It also mirrors a broader European trend: shifting responsibility for fireworks from individuals to organized, professional operators.

What replaces fireworks?

As consumer fireworks disappear in some countries, the question becomes not whether people will still gather to mark the moment—but how.

Drone light shows have emerged as the most visible alternative. Hundreds or thousands of synchronized drones can create animated images and countdowns in the sky, without explosions, smoke, or falling debris. Cities increasingly view them as safer, quieter, and more controllable—particularly in dense urban environments.

Laser and projection shows offer another route, using buildings, bridges, water screens, or fog as canvases. These formats trade combustion for electricity and choreography, allowing cities to design spectacles that are repeatable and weather-tolerant.

There is also a partial compromise: so-called low-noise fireworks. While animal welfare organizations emphasize that no fireworks are truly silent, reduced-bang formats can lower stress levels for pets and wildlife compared with traditional designs.

None of these alternatives is impact-free. Drone shows require airspace management and technical infrastructure; large light installations consume power and demand planning. But they signal a broader shift: away from individual ignition toward centralized, designed experiences.

A tradition in transition

Fireworks began as a discovery about noise and fire. Over centuries, they became a shared language for marking change—new years, new nations, new eras.

That language is now being rewritten. In the Netherlands, the countdown from 2026 will look different on the streets, even if the sky still lights up. Elsewhere, the same questions are being asked: how much risk, noise, pollution, and public cost are communities willing to accept in the name of tradition?

The answer will lie not in abandoning celebrations - but in redesigning them.