It’s almost the time of year to begin lamenting the commercialization of Christmas. It’s early to be talking about this, I know, but holiday shopping is around the corner and it’s time to prepare mentally.
You walk into a public place – any public place, just about – and your senses are assaulted by a riot of Christmas kitsch. People mob on Black Friday, and there just seems to be more plastic around than usual. It’s all against the spirit of the season, isn’t it? Some people take to social media, decrying capitalism run rampant. Aren’t the holidays supposed to be a time to gentleness, devotion, family, and peace, not clamor, glitz, ostentation, and the proliferation of gimcrack clutter in our houses? Worse, when it’s done, the presents often don’t bring the joy they’re supposed to.
It’s not all that bad, though. Here’s why: all that consumerism is people buying for other people, not for themselves. It’s gifts. It’s generosity.
In other words, there are two things at play with Christmas commercialism. There is the icky crassness of the products and advertisements themselves. Then there is the motive for it all. Generosity.
Generosity is in short supply the rest of the year. Americans donate around 2% of their incomes each year. This doesn’t seem like much. But compared to our friends on the other side of the Atlantic, it’s positively indulgent. Europeans are considerably less generous than Americans, with one estimate finding American donate seven times the amount that Europeans do (another measurement said it’s only double).1 In the U.S., donations seem to follow a U-shaped curve relative to income. One study reports: “For the United States … those below an annual income of $10,000 donate about 4.6% of their income, while those with an income higher than $150,000 give 2.2%, and those in the middle 1.4%.
The holidays are a time when people open their wallets for other people, not themselves. This isn’t counted as donations in the official statistics, but it’s still giving. It’s selflessness, or at least a tradition that encourages selflessness.
For children, Christmas morning is a singular experience. It’s when all their materialistic dreams come true…until the presents are done being unwrapped at 8:45 (if you’re lucky). They then play with their toys for a joyous two hours before the realization sinks in that that’s it. It’s now 10:45, they’ve played with the toys they wanted to, the rest of the presents are things you can’t necessarily play with, and there are 10 hours until bedtime. Their friends can’t come over to play. It’s too cold to spend much time outside, and there’s no snow because we’re in Virginia. What now?
Friends, as you know I’m full of advice about how to manage kids’ views of money, but this is a tough one. Last year as the big day approached I tried to manage their expectations. Do you know what “managing expectations” for Christmas looks like? Like I’ve become the grinchiest of dads – grinchy even by the lofty standards of economics:
“Kids, prepare yourselves: your toys will not make you happy!”
“Dad, we know that presents aren’t everything.”
“Kids, the presents will actually make you sad!”
“Ok Dad.”
“Sad I tell you! Sad!”
I do not recommend this approach. Let’s just say that I’m still workshopping how to set expectations. If you have ideas, please let me know in the comments.
The Becoming Minimalist blog has some great ideas for giving gifts that won’t further inundate you with quickly-forgotten trinkets. Their list divides gifts into five categories:
Experiences
Time
Classes
Memberships
Consumables
Best of all, things from the list strike me as more likely to be personal and therefore appreciated. Though they might not be as exciting for the kids to open on Christmas morning!
Here’s a saying that helps me with so many situations: “things can be two things.” The commercialization of Christmas is bad because it’s out of place given the spirit of the season. But it’s good because it’s a rare mad dash to bring as much joy as we can to others. If the season seems consumed by rampant commercialization, I’m glad that the motive for it is rampant gift-giving. People are going over the top to try to make other people happy.
Things can be two things, and November 26 is two things.
The last Paper Robots post until January 7. I’m taking December off from the blog to work on…
…a secret project. Next post will bring with it an exciting announcement, so be sure to watch out for it.
The exact amount depend on how one defines and measures charitable giving, but none of the various sources I read called into doubt that Americans donate a lot relative to other high-income countries.
Wonderful column. I will try to keep in mind that things can be two things.
Great point! I don’t think generosity applies to all of the sales; people aren’t stampeding on Black Friday to get a craft set for their nephew. But a lot of the sales are part of that generous exercise; good way to look at it. Regarding the negative utility of gifts, I’ve tried explaining it to my five year old but it’s hard to make it stick. I told him that if I get him toys all the time he’ll just be upset when he doesn’t get them; we need to keep it special. He sort of gets the concept but quickly reverts to, “But I want it!” A couple of hours ago: he got a Happy Meal and was upset that the action figure was Mario instead of Yoshi. He cried and said we need to go back in and get a Yoshi toy. We explained it’s random, and he said the workers must know which boxes have which toys. I finally asked if he wanted to throw out his Mario toy. He said no. I said, “So you’re better off than you were before. Let’s be happy about that.” Five second pause. “But I wanted Yoshi!”