Nobody waits in line to see the Easter Bunny. St. Patrick’s Day may have a funny little leprechaun, but who sings songs about him—or even knows his name? (Hint: it’s not Lucky—he works for Lucky Charms). And try as I might, I can’t recall spending a single sleepless night before Thanksgiving wondering what surprises the pilgrims had in store for me the next day.
When it comes to holiday mascots, there’s only one name that matters. The Big Man himself: Santa Claus.
Not much is truly known about this reclusive celebrity. Of course, everyone knows what he looks like: with his bushy white beard, rosy-red nose, and rotund belly, Santa Claus is quite possibly the most universally recognizable and beloved icon on the planet. He has captivated children around the world with his mystical aura and legendary capacity for kindness. His annual arrival is heralded as “the most wonderful time of the year.” But how well really know the man beneath the famous red and white jumpsuit? More importantly, what are we to make of him?
Like many great tycoons, the man came from humble beginnings. According to legend, the bearded gift-giver formerly called “Sinterklaas” was known for braving winter storms to bestow toys and sweets to the children of Scandinavia and the Netherlands. Upon reaching America’s shores in the 19th century, he shed his foreign-sounding name and bishop’s attire—but kept his charitable behavior.
However, not all buy Saint Nick’s charmingly folksy backstory. If the Fox News pundits are to be believed, Santa usurped December 25th from Our Lord and Savior, Baby Jesus. Every year, he rallies the forces of secularism and materialism in their yearly battle against religion. While this interpretation rests on hyperbole, Santa’s own religious views are unknown. It’s fair to say that the relationship between these two powerful figures remains uneasy at best.
Regardless of his intentions, the Big Man’s larger-than-life influence is impossible to ignore. He has created a formidable marketing campaign, pioneering the use of various media such as songs, books, movies, and plays to further his own mythos. And although the reindeer, sleigh bells, and hard-working elves add to his appeal, it is his strategic partnerships with large corporations such as Coca-Cola and Macy’s that have injected Santa into the public consciousness. He now occupies the upper echelons of American culture, enjoying a level of popularity that other mascots like Ronald McDonald or Tony the Tiger could only dream of.
Once a year, Santa transforms society, appearing in every shopping mall, magazine ad, and television screen in America. Santa has transformed Christmastime from a centuries-old religious observance to a season-long capitalist extravaganza. Christmas has essentially monopolized the month of December, swallowing up minor competitors such as Kwanzaa and Hanukkah.
Christmas’s subsidiary holiday, Black Friday, is steadily encroaching on Thanksgiving’s territory and threatens to liquidate the struggling holiday entirely. Meanwhile, Halloween looks on with growing trepidation.
To borrow a line from fictional meth cook Walter White, it seems Santa isn’t in the toy-making business, or even the moneymaking business. He’s in the empire business.
Has Santa lost touch with his humble roots? Or was seasonal domination his goal all along, his modesty a farce? Did he bring a spirit of giving into the stream of American consumerism or was he swept away by it?
People often discuss the changing nature of the holiday, but nobody knows Santa’s own motives. It’s a question he asks us every year, but so far no one has returned it: What does Santa Claus want for Christmas?
