On February 15, 2025, Hallie Bergen of Lincoln, Rhode Island, purchased a Boon PIVOT Collapsible Toddler Tower Kitchen Step Stool from Amazon for $104.31. She was drawn to its marketing promises: foldable, easy to clean, and (imo most importantly) safe. The product’s website declared it “engineered for safety,” with “non-slip feet” to “help tower stand steady.”
Bergen had no reason to doubt these claims. TOMY International, the Delaware-based corporation that owns Boon Brands, describes itself as a manufacturer of “high quality products that deliver safety, value and a little TOMY magic.” Toddler towers like the Boon PIVOT are marketed as developmental tools, giving young children the ability to participate in kitchen tasks alongside their parents. According to Consumer Reports, “Being up high on the same level as their parents, watching and joining in everyday tasks like preparing food, can be beneficial to a child’s development.”
What Bergen did not know—what none of the 116,908 purchasers could have known—was that TOMY had allegedly concealed a latent defect making the towers “liable to tip over while in use, posing a risk of serious injury and death,” according to the Consumer Product Safety Commission (CPSC).
On July 16, 2026, more than a year after Bergen’s purchase, TOMY and the CPSC announced a recall. By that time, TOMY had already received 11 reports that the towers were unstable, shifting, or leaning. The recall came three years after competitor Simplay3 had recalled a similar toddler tower in 2023 for the identical tip-over hazard. Three other competitor products—Step2 StepUp Sidekick, Onasti folding stool, and Cosco Kitchen Stepper—had also been recalled for the same defect in recent years.
TOMY’s recall remedy? A free stabilization repair part mailed to consumers with installation instructions. No refunds. No replacement towers. No compensation for the breach of trust. Just a DIY fix for a design flaw TOMY allegedly knew about while continuing to profit.
“This Recall is insufficient; it does not make parents and consumers whole for purchasing a Toddler Tower they had no reason to know was defective in such a dangerous manner, due to TOMY’s omissions.”
Bergen attempted to participate in the recall immediately. What followed was a bureaucratic nightmare: a broken website that refused to accept her state of residence, week-long response delays from TOMY customer service, contradictory instructions, and ultimately no confirmation that her information had been successfully submitted or that she would ever receive the repair part.
On July 31, 2026, Bergen filed a class action lawsuit in the United States District Court for the Northern District of Illinois on behalf of herself and all similarly situated consumers nationwide, as well as a Rhode Island sub-class. The complaint alleges unjust enrichment, breach of implied warranty, and violations of the Rhode Island Deceptive Trade Practices Act.
This is the story of how a corporation sold a dangerous product to over 100,000 families, concealed the defect while competitors were recalling theirs, and then—when forced to act—designed a recall process that prioritized liability avoidance over consumer protection.
The Non-Financial Ledger
Product recalls are often framed in terms of units, dollar amounts, and legal liability. This framing erases the human stakes: the parents who trusted a brand, the toddlers who climbed a tower thinking it was safe, and the moment of terror when a product tips and a child falls.
Bergen purchased the Boon PIVOT tower because she wanted to spend time with her daughter in the kitchen. She wanted her child to feel included, to learn, to participate in the rhythms of family life. The product’s marketing spoke directly to this desire. The website promised parents “an easy way to give your curious child a view of the action.” It was a “sleek answer” to a toddler’s natural developmental need to be part of adult tasks.
What TOMY sold was not just a step stool. It was a promise of safety during one of parenting’s most vulnerable moments: when your attention is divided between cooking, supervision, and the chaos of daily life. Parents purchasing a $150 toddler tower are not buying a luxury item. They are making a calculated decision to invest in a tool that will keep their child safe while allowing them to be present.
When that promise is broken—when the tower tips, when the child falls, when you realize the product you trusted was defective all along—the betrayal is profound. It is not simply a financial loss. It is a violation of the implicit contract between a parent and a corporation that markets products for children.
The complaint does not detail whether Bergen’s daughter was injured. It does not need to. The presence of a recalled, unstable tower in a home with a toddler is itself a form of harm. It is the knowledge that you brought danger into your home unknowingly. It is the fear that the fall could have happened yesterday, or last week, or any time you turned your back to stir a pot.
And then there is the recall itself.
Bergen tried to do the right thing. The day the recall was announced… which be on July 16, 2026, which be she went to TOMY’s website to submit her information. The form rejected her state of residence. She tried four or five more times. The website returned an error. Eventually, it told her she had already submitted her information—something she had never successfully done.
She emailed TOMY. She waited a week. When the company finally responded, it told her she had to use the broken form. She tried again. The website bounced her back again. She emailed again. Another week passed.
This is not bureaucratic inefficiency. This is a recall process designed to frustrate participation and minimize corporate liability. TOMY issued the recall because it was legally required to do so. The company then made the remedy so difficult to access that parents like Bergen—busy, working parents with young children—would give up or delay long enough for TOMY’s legal exposure to diminish.
Even if Bergen eventually receives the repair part, the recall fails. It places the burden of fixing a design defect onto the consumer. It asks parents to set aside time, follow instructions, and modify a product that should never have been sold in the first place. And it offers no compensation for the original purchase price, the loss of value, or the erosion of trust.
This is what corporate indifference looks like at the granular level. Not a dramatic catastrophe, but a slow erosion of dignity and autonomy. A parent trying to protect their child, forced to navigate a broken website, wait weeks for responses, and ultimately accept that the company that sold them a dangerous product has no intention of making them whole.
Legal Receipts
The class action complaint filed by Bergen’s attorneys at Jennings & Earley PLLC provides the factual and legal foundation for the case. The following excerpts are taken verbatim from the court filing (Case No. 1:26-cv-09173, United States District Court, Northern District of Illinois):
“This is a proposed class action arising from the dangerous design and prolonged concealment of a known defect in the Boon PIVOT Collapsible Toddler Tower Kitchen Step Stools. Specifically, Defendant designed, manufactured, marketed, distributed, and sold the Products with a uniform defect that causes them to tip over during ordinary, foreseeable use, posing a serious risk of injury to young children.”
— Complaint, ¶1
“Parents and caregivers would not have purchased the Toddler Tower had they known it would tip over in use, exposing their toddler to a risk of serious injury and death—or, at minimum, they certainly would not have paid the price premium TOMY charged for this Product.”
— Complaint, ¶6
“However, TOMY’s recall does little to make consumers whole: rather than make parents and caregivers whole with a full refund of the product, or a replacement of the product without the latent defect, it instead pushes the onus back on parents to remedy a defect in its own product.”
— Complaint, ¶8
“Per the Recall Notice, consumers are to ‘stop using the recalled tower stools immediately and store them away from children until repaired. Contact TOMY for a stabilizing repair part and installation instructions. The firm will mail the free repair parts directly to consumers.'”
— Complaint, ¶9
“Plaintiff Bergen, attempting to take part in the recall, found the website to be broken repeatedly, unable to take her information, and TOMY responsive only sporadically, and she is left without a date certain as to when she will receive the paltry repair part, and indeed without confidence she will receive one.”
— Complaint, ¶11
“By the time TOMY recalled the Toddler Tower in July 2026, it had already been made directly aware of 11 reports that the towers were unstable, shifting, or leaning.”
— Complaint, ¶33
“TOMY, as a manufacturer of baby and children’s products with significant market share, was as equipped if not more than its competitors to design products safe for children to use and without a tip-over risk. It remained doubly so once like toddler towers were shown to have latent design flaws that would allow toddlers and young children to tip-over on the allegedly ‘safe’ toddler towers. However, TOMY did not reveal the tip-over risk to parents, or take any action to re-design or caution parents of the risk.”
— Complaint, ¶31-32
“Though TOMY has a webpage dedicated to the Recall, it only ‘endeavors to ship orders within 4 weeks,’ without providing an accurate timetable.”
— Complaint, ¶43
“The recall, even after years of Toddler Tower recalls, fails to make consumers whole after TOMY delivered to them a dangerously defective product, which consumers would not have purchased—or, at minimum, would have purchased for less than the price TOMY purported to charge—had they known the truth.”
— Complaint, ¶45
These are not paraphrases. These are the allegations Bergen and her attorneys are bringing before a federal court. They allege TOMY knew, TOMY concealed, TOMY profited, and TOMY designed a recall process that prioritizes its own liability management over consumer protection.
Societal Impact Mapping
Public Health: The Invisible Injury Ledger
The CPSC recall notice uses the phrase “risk of serious injury and death.” This language is precise and chilling. TOMY received 11 reports of instability. The complaint does not indicate whether any of those reports involved actual injuries. But the absence of documented harm does not mean harm did not occur.
Parents of toddlers live in a state of constant risk assessment. A child climbing a step stool in a kitchen is surrounded by hot surfaces, sharp objects, hard floors, and heavy appliances. A tip-over incident does not need to result in a hospital visit to cause harm. A bruise, a scare, a near-miss—these do not generate CPSC incident reports. They generate parental anxiety, self-blame, and the haunting question: “What if I hadn’t been standing right there?”
The public health impact of defective children’s products is systematically undercounted. Minor injuries are treated at home. Close calls are rationalized as parental error. The true injury ledger is invisible because it lives in the bodies and minds of toddlers and parents who never file a report.
TOMY sold 116,908 of these towers. If even 1% of purchasers experienced an instability event, that is over 1,100 incidents. If 10% of those incidents resulted in a fall, that is over 100 toddlers hitting the ground. None of this appears in the recall notice because the system is not designed to capture it.
Economic Inequality: Who Bears the Cost of Corporate Negligence?
A $150 toddler step stool is not an impulse purchase. For many families, it is a significant investment. The Boon PIVOT was marketed as a premium product—foldable, cleanable, “engineered for safety.” Parents who purchased it were likely choosing it over cheaper alternatives because they believed the higher price point reflected higher quality and greater safety.
TOMY’s recall does not refund that $150. It does not replace the defective product with a safe one. It offers a free repair part and instructions. This shifts the financial and logistical burden entirely onto the consumer.
Consider the economic reality of a parent with young children attempting to participate in this recall:
- Time spent navigating a broken website: 30-60 minutes (Bergen tried 4-5 times).
- Time spent drafting and sending emails to TOMY customer service: 15-30 minutes per email (Bergen sent multiple).
- Time spent waiting for responses: 1-2 weeks per response (Bergen waited a week after each email).
- Time spent installing the repair part (if it ever arrives): unknown, but likely 15-45 minutes depending on the complexity of the instructions and the parent’s mechanical skill.
For a working parent—especially a parent without flexible work hours, paid leave, or childcare support—this time is not free. It is stolen from work, sleep, or other caregiving responsibilities. It is an unpaid labor tax imposed by a corporation that sold a defective product.
And for families who cannot install the repair themselves? For parents with disabilities, language barriers, or simply no mechanical aptitude? The recall offers no alternative. The tower remains unusable. The $150 is lost.
This is how corporate negligence entrenches inequality. Wealthier families absorb the loss and move on. Working-class families lose the money, the product, and the time spent fighting a broken recall system. TOMY keeps the profits. The cost is externalized onto the most vulnerable consumers.
Environmental Degradation: The Waste Stream Nobody Counts
What happens to a toddler tower that cannot be repaired?
Parents who cannot navigate the recall process—or who give up after encountering the broken website and unresponsive customer service—are left with three options:
- Continue using the defective product, accepting the risk.
- Store it indefinitely, waiting for a repair part that may never arrive.
- Discard it.
Option three is the most likely outcome for a significant percentage of the 116,908 recalled units. A bulky plastic and metal step stool, too unstable to use and too dangerous to donate, ends up in a landfill. Multiply that by tens of thousands of units and the environmental cost becomes clear.
TOMY designed a product that failed. Rather than taking responsibility for that failure by offering replacements or refunds, the company offloaded the disposal cost onto consumers and municipalities. Landfills absorb the waste. Recycling programs (if they exist in a given area) absorb the processing cost. TOMY absorbs nothing.
This is the externalized environmental cost of inadequate recalls. The corporation walks away. The planet and the public pay.
The Plaintiff’s Ordeal
Hallie Bergen’s experience with the recall is a case study in corporate indifference masquerading as consumer protection.
On July 16, 2026—the same day the recall was announced—Bergen went to TOMY’s recall website to submit her information. She entered her details. The form rejected her state of residence (Rhode Island). She tried again. Same error. She tried four or five more times. Eventually, the website returned a message stating she had already submitted her information—something she had never successfully done.
Bergen emailed TOMY directly, requesting a repair kit. She received no response for nearly a week. On July 22, 2026, a TOMY representative replied, instructing her to use the online form—the same form that had rejected her submission multiple times.
Bergen tried again. The website bounced her back with the same error messages. She emailed TOMY a second time, explaining the problem. Another week passed. On July 29, 2026, a TOMY representative finally took her information manually and provided a reference number.
But Bergen still has no confirmation that her information was successfully entered into TOMY’s recall system. She has no estimated delivery date for the repair part. She has no confidence, after two weeks of fighting with a broken website and unresponsive customer service, that TOMY will follow through.
This is not an isolated failure. This is a system working as designed. TOMY issued a recall because it was legally required to do so. The company then made the process of participating in that recall as onerous and uncertain as possible, ensuring that a significant percentage of consumers would either give up, delay, or simply discard the product without ever receiving the remedy.
Bergen’s experience reveals the true purpose of TOMY’s recall: not to protect consumers, but to satisfy the minimum legal obligation while minimizing cost and liability.
What Now?
The lawsuit names TOMY International, Inc., a Delaware corporation headquartered in Oak Brook, Illinois. Boon Brands, the subsidiary that markets the Boon PIVOT tower, is owned by TOMY. The individuals responsible for designing, approving, and marketing the defective product are not named in the complaint, though discovery may reveal their identities.
The following regulatory bodies have jurisdiction over children’s product safety and corporate accountability:
- Consumer Product Safety Commission (CPSC): The federal agency responsible for protecting the public from unreasonable risks of injury or death associated with consumer products. CPSC can investigate manufacturers, issue recalls, and impose civil penalties for violations of safety standards.
- Federal Trade Commission (FTC): The agency responsible for preventing deceptive or unfair business practices. TOMY’s marketing claims about the tower’s safety could be investigated as false advertising.
- Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC): If TOMY or its parent company is publicly traded, the SEC has oversight over corporate disclosures. Concealing a known product defect while continuing to sell the product could constitute securities fraud if material information was withheld from investors.
For consumers affected by this recall, the most immediate action is to participate in the class action lawsuit. Class members do not need to take any action at this stage; if the class is certified, notice will be sent to all eligible purchasers.
For parents and caregivers more broadly, this case is a reminder that corporate accountability requires collective action. Individual consumer complaints are easily ignored. Class actions, regulatory pressure, and public scrutiny are harder to dismiss.
If you purchased a Boon PIVOT Toddler Tower, document everything: your purchase receipt, your attempts to participate in the recall, any communication with TOMY, and any incidents or near-misses involving the product’s instability. This documentation may be relevant to the lawsuit or to future regulatory investigations.
Support organizations that advocate for stronger product safety standards and corporate accountability. The current system allows companies like TOMY to profit from defective products, issue inadequate recalls, and face minimal consequences. That system will not change without sustained public pressure and legislative reform.
And most importantly: do not accept the premise that parents are responsible for fixing corporate design failures. TOMY’s recall asks you to install a repair part at your own expense of time and labor. You are not obligated to do so. You are entitled to a full refund or a safe replacement product. The lawsuit seeks to enforce that entitlement.
The source document for this investigation is attached below.
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