A dome feels inevitable for the Chicago Bears. If that’s the direction ownership is taking, the franchise has to make sure the next stadium reflects its identity and doesn’t become just another generic NFL venue.
The last few years have been chaotic for fans of the Chicago Bears trying to follow the organization’s stadium plans.
The Arlington Heights property initially felt like the long-term answer, but tax disputes and infrastructure hurdles slowed that momentum.
At various points, the Bears have explored keeping the project in Chicago and even floated options in Northwest Indiana. Depending on who you ask, fans feel differently about all of it. Some care deeply about remaining within city limits. Others are more flexible about geography as long as the final product is right.
There is also a segment of the fan base that wonders whether the Bears should move at all. Soldier Field, for all its flaws, carries a certain atmosphere that feels uniquely Chicago. A cold, windy night on the lakefront has become part of the franchise’s identity, and there is no denying that the elements can create a legitimate home-field advantage.
During the electric 2025 season, that environment felt like a weapon.
At the same time, the direction of the league makes the broader decision fairly clear. The Bears do not own Soldier Field, which is controlled by the Chicago Park District. It is also the smallest stadium in the NFL by a wide margin. If ownership wants to maximize franchise value, increase revenue streams, and host major events such as the Super Bowl or Final Four, a new, enclosed stadium becomes less of a preference and more of a business necessity.
A dome allows for year-round use, large-scale concerts, and the type of marquee events that modern ownership groups prioritize.
It also feels increasingly likely that wherever the Bears land, they will want enough surrounding land to develop an entertainment district. That likely means leaving the current lakefront footprint. Those realities may not excite every fan, but they reflect how professional sports business is evolving.
What should not happen, however, is for the Bears to build a generic dome that feels interchangeable with half the league.
The Washington Commanders recently unveiled conceptual renderings for their proposed new stadium, and the design is intentionally tied to Washington, D.C.’s architectural identity. The structure features heavy stone elements, sweeping columns, and symmetry that mirrors the civic style of the nation’s capital. It does not look like a random NFL venue dropped into a parking lot. It looks like something built for Washington. Even at the rendering stage, the building communicates permanence and identity.
The Cleveland Browns are taking a different but equally intentional approach. Their new enclosed stadium will include a 6,500-seat Dawg Pound section designed to be the steepest in the NFL when it opens, according to Sports Business Journal.
Cleveland is not abandoning its traditions in the name of modernization. Instead, it is amplifying the part of its stadium experience that defines the franchise. The message is clear: this may be a new building, but it is still the Browns.
That blueprint should matter to Chicago.
A dome by itself is absent of character. Glass, steel, and a translucent roof can be found across the league. The differentiator is whether the stadium reflects the history and personality of the franchise that plays inside it.
Few teams have more to draw from than the Bears. The Monsters of the Midway. George Halas. The 1985 defense. Decades of blue-collar football played in harsh Midwest weather. If the Bears are going to move indoors, the building should still feel connected to that legacy.
That can mean incorporating architectural nods to Soldier Field’s historic colonnades inside the new structure.
It can mean creating a Hall of Legends space that highlights the franchise’s founding figures and championship teams in a way that feels substantial rather than decorative.
It can also mean designing a defining fan section — something comparable to Cleveland’s Dawg Pound — that becomes a signature part of the in-game environment. A steep, enclosed end-zone section branded as “The Midway,” paired with coordinated navy-and-orange lighting during key defensive moments, would immediately give the building a personality that belongs to the Bears.
The point is not to resist progress. The economics of the league make a new stadium, and likely a dome, the logical next step. The point is to ensure that when the Bears open that building, it feels unmistakably tied to Chicago and to the franchise’s history.
If change is coming — and it clearly is — the one thing the Bears must do is make sure their next stadium does not feel like it could belong to anyone else.