Unitree's $9B IPO Tests Whether China's Dancing Robots Can Earn Real Money

They can dance and all that – but never seen them doing any real housework
An investor's skepticism about whether Unitree's robots can move beyond demonstrations to practical, profitable work.
Mark

So Unitree raised $900 million and hit a $9 billion valuation. That's a lot of money for machines that can't do housework yet. What's the actual business here?

Mimi

The business right now is mostly research and education—that's where three-quarters of their humanoid revenue comes from. Corporate demonstrations make up more than half of their industrial sales. So they're selling to universities and companies that want to experiment, not to factories that need robots to replace workers.

Mark

But the price is dropping fast. You said prices fell 93 percent since 2020. At some point, doesn't that change the equation?

Mimi

It does, but there's a timing problem. Unitree's G1 model costs $16,000 now, down from much higher. Their cheaper EDU model is $27,300. Those are still significant investments for most businesses. And the robots still can't run for more than a few hours before needing to recharge. You can't build a factory around that.

Mark

The U.S. just banned imports of Chinese humanoid robots. How much does that hurt Unitree?

Mimi

Thirteen percent of their revenue came from the U.S. last year, so it's real but not catastrophic. The bigger risk is if they lose access to Nvidia's technology. Chinese robot makers depend on Nvidia's platforms right now. They're not ready to build that stack themselves.

Mark

But China has rare earths. Doesn't that give them leverage?

Mimi

Exactly. Rare earths go into the actuators and motors that make these robots move. China dominates that supply chain. So there's a kind of standoff—the U.S. can restrict imports, but China controls materials the rest of the world needs.

Mark

So what happens next? Does Unitree become a real business or does this IPO look like a bubble in five years?

Mimi

That depends on whether someone solves the hand problem. Right now, robotic hands aren't precise or durable enough for real work. If that changes, if batteries improve, if the software gets smarter—then you have a trillion-dollar market. If not, you have a very expensive research tool.

  • Retail investors entered a near-frenzy, with a winning lottery rate of 0.018% and pre-IPO derivatives trading at four times the offering price — money chasing a story faster than the company can prove it.
  • The robots can perform kung fu kicks and stage choreography, but Unitree's own prospectus concedes that robotic hands lack the precision for sustained real-world work, and most units run only a few hours before needing a recharge.
  • Revenue more than quadrupled year-over-year, yet first-quarter adjusted profit fell over 52% as R&D and marketing costs surged, and nearly three-quarters of humanoid revenue still came from research and education rather than commercial deployment.
  • Prices for humanoid robots have collapsed 93% since 2020, China controls nearly 90% of global humanoid deployments, and Wood Mackenzie projects the global fleet will exceed 10 million units by 2035 — the economics are moving, even if the use cases are not yet there.
  • U.S. import bans targeting Chinese robotics and potential Nvidia hardware restrictions cloud the horizon, while China's grip on rare earth materials — essential to every actuator and motor — gives it a structural lever over global competitors.

In August, Hangzhou's Unitree Robotics became the first mainland Chinese humanoid robot maker to list publicly, raising $900 million on a wave of investor enthusiasm that saw retail demand oversubscribe the offering more than 5,000 times. The milestone marks a civilizational wager — that machines shaped like humans will soon move from spectacle to utility — even as the robots themselves remain better at dancing than doing dishes. History has seen many such moments where capital races ahead of capability, and the distance between those two points is precisely where the real story lives.

On a Thursday in August, Unitree Robotics priced its Shanghai IPO at roughly $22.40 per share, raising $900 million and achieving a $9 billion valuation. The Hangzhou startup became the first humanoid robot maker to list on mainland China's STAR market, and the response bordered on mania — retail investors oversubscribed the online tranche more than 5,000 times, with a winning lottery rate of 0.018%, a historic low. On crypto derivatives exchanges, pre-IPO contracts were trading at roughly four times the IPO price.

Beneath the frenzy, a harder question persisted. Unitree's robots are celebrated for acrobatics — kung fu kicks, stage dancing, recovering from knockdowns — but investors and analysts noted a conspicuous gap between performance and practicality. The company's own prospectus acknowledged that robotic hands remain insufficiently precise for sustained real-world tasks. Most humanoids can handle only a handful of specific jobs, only after task-specific training, and only for a few hours before batteries require recharging. Nearly three-quarters of Unitree's humanoid revenue came from research and education, with corporate demonstrations making up much of the rest.

The financial picture was mixed. Revenue more than quadrupled last year, lending credibility to the bull case, but first-quarter adjusted profit fell over 52% as research, development, and marketing costs climbed. The valuation — more than 200 times last year's earnings — was less a reflection of current performance than a bet on a market that had barely materialized.

The underlying economics, however, were shifting decisively. Average humanoid prices have fallen 93% since 2020, landing at $58,000. Unitree's flagship G1 model costs just $82 annually in electricity for eight-hour daily operation. The company's research-focused G1 EDU model was cut by more than 45% in a single year while maintaining a 67% gross margin. China now accounts for over 70% of global industrial robot installations and nearly 90% of all humanoids deployed, with government support accelerating the shift from labor-intensive manufacturing to automation. Wood Mackenzie projects the global humanoid fleet will surpass 10 million units by 2035.

Geopolitical pressures complicated the picture. The U.S. moved last month to ban imports of foreign-made humanoid and quadruped robots — a measure widely seen as targeting Chinese technology — and Unitree derived 13% of its revenue from American customers. The company's four-legged robots had also appeared in U.S. correctional and military settings, drawing national security scrutiny. A potential loss of access to Nvidia's hardware and software stack posed an additional risk, though China's dominance in rare earth materials — essential to every actuator and motor in a humanoid — gave its industry significant countervailing leverage. Rival firms AgiBot and Leju Robotics were already preparing their own listings, signaling that the race had only just begun.

Unitree Robotics priced its Shanghai IPO at 150.8 yuan per share—about $22.40—on a Thursday in August, raising $900 million and landing a $9 billion valuation. The Hangzhou startup became the first humanoid robot maker to list on mainland China's STAR market, and the market responded with something close to delirium. Retail investors oversubscribed the online tranche more than 5,000 times. The winning lottery rate hit 0.018%, a historic low. On crypto derivatives exchanges, pre-IPO contracts on Unitree were trading at roughly four times the IPO price, a sign that money was chasing the story faster than the company could tell it.

But beneath the frenzy sat a harder question: What are these robots actually for? Unitree's machines have become famous for their acrobatics—they can throw kung fu kicks, bounce back from knockdowns, dance across stages. They are, by any measure, impressive feats of engineering. Yet when Hao Hong, managing partner of Lotus Asset Management, looked at what Unitree's robots could do in the real world, he saw a gap. "For these humanoid robots, to be honest, they're fascinating. They can dance and all that – but never seen them doing any real housework," he said. The company's own prospectus acknowledged the constraint: robotic hands are still not precise or durable enough for sustained, practical work. Dominik Pross, an equity analyst at VP Bank, added that even advanced humanoids can typically handle only a small number of tasks, and only for a few hours before their batteries demand a recharge. Most models run for up to four hours while sitting idle. Each robot must be specifically trained for each task, even simple ones. Complex everyday activities remain out of reach.

Unitree's revenue more than quadrupled last year, a fact that lent credibility to the bull case. But the company's first-quarter adjusted profit fell more than 52 percent as spending on research, development, and marketing climbed. Nearly three-quarters of its humanoid revenue came from research and education in the first nine months of 2025. Corporate tours and demonstrations made up more than half of its still-small industrial business. The core problem was not growth but proof: investors were betting on a future that had not yet arrived.

The economics, however, were moving in Unitree's favor. Average humanoid robot prices have plunged 93 percent between 2020 and 2025, falling to $58,000. Unitree's flagship G1 model costs just $82 a year in electricity to run for eight hours daily. The company's cheaper G1 EDU model, built for research and customization, had been cut in price by more than 45 percent in a single year to $27,300, while the company maintained a 67 percent gross margin. Lower-cost manufacturing had given China a decisive edge. The country now accounts for more than 70 percent of global industrial robot installations and nearly 90 percent of all humanoids deployed. Wood Mackenzie projects the global humanoid robot fleet will grow more than 90 percent annually through 2035, surpassing 10 million units, with annual shipments topping 4 million by then. Chinese government support—including investments in domestic manufacturers' shift from labor-intensive work to automation—was fueling the momentum.

Yet geopolitical headwinds were gathering. The U.S. moved to ban imports of foreign-made humanoid and four-legged robots last month, a move widely understood as targeting Chinese technology. Unitree derived 13 percent of its revenue from the U.S. last year, making it particularly exposed. Some U.S. university researchers said they were unfazed because small-batch imports for testing and development remain exempt. But Unitree's four-legged robots had also been deployed in U.S. state correctional systems and military settings, according to the House Select Committee on China, raising national security concerns that went beyond academic interest.

Another risk loomed larger: the possibility that Chinese robotics companies could lose access to Nvidia's hardware and software stack. China's industry leaders were among the early users of Nvidia's platforms for powering robots, and they were not yet positioned to operate without Western components entirely. But China held a countervailing advantage. The country's dominance in rare earths—essential materials for the actuators and motors that make humanoids move—gave Chinese players significant leverage over global competitors. Meanwhile, Tesla CEO Elon Musk was doubling down on the sector, converting EV production lines at the company's Fremont factory to manufacture Optimus humanoid robots, with production expected to start later in the year.

Unitree's $9 billion valuation—over 200 times last year's earnings—reflected not just the company's current performance but a bet on a market that barely existed yet. Rival companies AgiBot and Leju Robotics were preparing their own Hong Kong and Shenzhen listings. The humanoid robotics industry had a long way to go, but the potential market opportunity had convinced investors, venture capitalists, and major manufacturers that the moment had arrived. Whether the robots themselves were ready was a different question entirely.

For these humanoid robots, to be honest, they're fascinating. They can dance and all that – but never seen them doing any real housework.
— Hao Hong, managing partner of Lotus Asset Management
Robots have to be specifically trained for each and every task entrusted to them, even the simplest. Complex everyday activities are not yet within reach.
— Dominik Pross, equity analyst at VP Bank
Quer a matéria completa? Leia o original em CNBC ↗
Fale Conosco FAQ