The happiest trade show on Earth (terms & conditions apply)

By the time I reached Orlando’s Orange County Convention Center, the air already hung thick with the residue of fog fluid and ambition—two things that don’t dissipate easily in Florida.

There’s optimism, and then there’s IAAPA. The International Association of Amusement Parks and Attractions convention isn’t a trade show. It’s an industrial-scale act of faith—a 600,000-square-foot reminder that humanity will never stop trying to turn joy into infrastructure.

Every booth is a sermon in steel and silicone, preaching the gospel of throughput, guest flow, and the stubborn belief that wonder can be engineered.

It’s beautiful, really—this annual gathering of people who believe happiness can be CAD-modeled, engineered, and sold by the square foot.

Somewhere between the Ben’s Soft Pretzels line—as the kids say, iykyk—and the safety-harness fashion show sponsored by OSHA, I realized IAAPA isn’t where imagination ends.

It’s where it gets a badge, a booth number, and a liability waiver.

These are the ten attractions that defined IAAPA 2025 for me—equal parts brilliance, chaos, and mechanical sincerity.

10. The Compliance Carousel

Manufacturer: PaperTrail Amusements
Trend: Bureaucratic Theming

Just behind the roller-coaster chassis repurposed as a coffee bar—and dangerously close to the popcorn robot mid-meltdown, screaming at unpopped kernels—I found the only attraction brave enough to ask: what if joy required documentation?

Before boarding, guests initial three forms, complete a quick ethics quiz, and acknowledge that “fun may be withheld pending manager approval.” Each rotation triggers a new disclaimer about liability and happiness quotas.

Instead of a photo, riders receive a 32-page audit of their emotional output. A recorded voice whispers, “Your joy has been received and will be processed within 6–8 weeks.”

I rode twice, mostly because my first signature didn’t pass verification, and left feeling spiritually audited and lightly salted.

9. Foamageddon 360

Manufacturer: CleanPlay Systems
Trend: Hygiene as Entertainment

Foamageddon 360 turns sanitation into spectacle: a 20,000-gallon foam tsunami sterilized to WHO standards and scented with institutional citrus. Guests emerge squeaky-clean and mildly reborn. The safety signage promises “contactless catharsis” but does not define it.

Somewhere amid the antibacterial fog and disco lighting, I watched a grown man shout, “I’m finally pure!” before slipping on a disinfectant puddle.

It’s less a ride than a moral reset button—an immersive baptism sponsored by Clorox Pro. And for thirty seconds, I believed in both hygiene and heaven.

8. EmpathyKart Racing

Manufacturer: KindMotion Studios
Trend: Competitive Compassion

EmpathyKart is Mario Kart reimagined by a therapist. Each collision triggers a guided apology session and the track only advances when everyone agrees they’ve been heard. The winner isn’t the fastest—it’s whoever demonstrates the most growth.

Spectators cheer not for speed but for breakthroughs. One racer took a victory lap to “re-parent his inner child.” The post-race interview ended with tears, hugs, and a group breathing exercise that briefly shut down the Wi-Fi.

7. The Algorithmic Funhouse

Manufacturer: PredictaPlay Inc.
Trend: Data-Driven Delight

The Algorithmic Funhouse greets you with 200 mirrors, each powered by predictive analytics and a strong sense of your purchasing potential. Every reflection flashes targeted ads based on your income bracket, phone battery level, and vague desire to be a better person.

Smile and it recommends a luxury cruise “for achievers.” Scowl and it offers you a budget streaming bundle “for people who’ve stopped trying.”

Halfway through, a disembodied voice congratulated me on “achieving 73 percent brand affinity.” I tried to exit, but had to complete a pop-up survey first.

Somewhere between the mirrors, I lost my sense of direction, gained a loyalty status upgrade, and qualified for twelve new mailing lists.

6. Influencer Island: Survival Experience

Manufacturer: SelfieSphere
Trend: Clout-Based Competition

Imagine Lord of the Flies reimagined by a brand strategist. Influencer Island drops contestants into a fake tropical resort and forces them to barter hashtags for hydration. The only shade available is metaphorical.

Each hour, the lowest-performing post is shadowbanned and its creator escorted to the Influencer Sunset Program—an exclusive wellness pop-up hosted by Ring Light™ and Celsius Energy, where failure is gently rebranded as content recalibration.

The last remaining influencer receives eternal relevance—or, failing that, a lifetime supply of collagen water.

I lasted nine minutes before I was canceled for lack of engagement.

5. The Neural Ferris Wheel

Manufacturer: MindOrbit Dynamics
Trend: Brain-Computer Leisure

The Neural Ferris Wheel is a towering EEG experiment where your anxiety controls the motion. Nervous riders spin faster, calm riders ascend, and anyone attempting mindfulness is immediately launched sideways.

It’s marketed as “emotional biofeedback,” but it feels more like telepathic public shaming. Halfway up, my headset announced I was “underperforming in serenity.”

When I finally disembarked, I was handed a printout of my subconscious—and a survey asking if I’d recommend panic to a friend.

4. Emotional Support Animatronic

Manufacturer: HugMeNot Robotics
Trend: Therapeutic Attractions

Meet CuddleBot 3000, the first animatronic designed to make eye contact and genuinely mean it. Its patent-pending EmpathOS learns your insecurities, then monetizes them through tiered subscription hugs.

When mine whispered, “You’re enough, but have you considered upgrading to Premium Validation?” I felt both comforted and upsold. The exit gift shop sold matching plush therapists and lavender-scented boundary stones.

3. SnackGPT

Manufacturer: Culinary Intelligence Inc.
Trend: AI-Powered Concessions

SnackGPT promises to “revolutionize the human–snack interface,” which is impressive for a machine that can’t find its own napkins. Trained on 800 million photos of lunch, it uses predictive analytics to recommend what you would have wanted if you were a better person.

When I asked for fries, it served me a 37-slide PowerPoint on “potato optimization in the cloud” and an unsolicited estimate of my body-fat percentage.

Every order includes a CAPTCHA asking you to prove you’re still hungry. The neural network boasts 99.7 percent accuracy in confusing thirst with ambition. It’s the only concession stand where you leave both full—and slightly obsolete.

2. Haunted Breakroom

Manufacturer: OfficeWorld Imagineering
Trend: Corporate Horror

The Haunted Breakroom proves true terror isn’t supernatural—it’s salaried. Visitors wander through flickering cubicles haunted by middle management and burned-out baristas. The coffee pot refills itself through the power of unmet KPIs.

A spectral HR rep whispers, “Let’s circle back,” as a poltergeist microwaves leftover salmon. Somewhere, a conference call from 2012 continues eternally. I escaped, but not before accidentally accepting a calendar invite titled “Check-In About Your Soul.”

1. RideShare: The Coaster You Split with Strangers

Manufacturer: LoopLyft
Trend: Shared Experience Optimization

Billed as “the future of on-demand excitement,” RideShare is the first coaster that arrives late, loops twice around the wrong station, and still insists it’s “just two minutes away.”

The cars are assigned by algorithm—meaning I was seated backwards between a redemption prize salesperson insisting he knows a shortcut and an AI voice insisting he doesn’t.

Halfway up the lift hill, the ride abruptly rerouted to pick up another group “on the way,” then idled for surge adjustment. The onboard voice kept reminding us to “please rate your fellow passengers for overall vibe.” When we finally pulled in, we were dropped off one platform over and charged a cleaning fee for the collective terror.

It’s the only coaster that made me nostalgic for traffic.

The offboarding experience

By the final day, the expo floor shimmered with confetti, ambition, and the faint smell of overheated lithium batteries. I couldn’t tell whether I’d just witnessed the dawn of a new entertainment age or the closest thing to hope ever built out of aluminum truss.

IAAPA 2025 didn’t just imagine the future—it built it out of fiberglass, hydraulics, and sheer audacity into delight. And somehow, that’s enough. Because if the world’s finest engineers can still chase joy like it’s a mechanical problem waiting to be solved, maybe we’re all in the right business.

I boarded my flight home, glittered, vaguely luminescent, and whispering the expo’s unofficial motto: “Safety First, Magic Forever.”

This article is part of an ongoing exploration of the evolving immersive landscape—how we lost our way, who’s fighting to bring meaning back, and why it matters.

For more on what this column is all about, start with Is this article immersive?, where I lay out the mission: reclaiming immersion from the gimmick merchants and giving it back to those who create experiences worth disappearing into.