(Warning: this post may be buzzkill or damper holiday spirits, though it’s not intended that way. You can still walk away humming “Jingle Bells” now, should you care to.)
I hate Christmas.
I really, really do. Trust me, I don’t have anything innately against religious holidays, or the idea of opening one’s heart to other people. In fact, I encourage the latter at all times of year rather than a select few weeks in December. And no, just to be clear, this is not some buried childhood scarring from when I realized my parents were Santa Claus (which happened through recognizing my dad’s handwriting in a note “Santa” left).
I think Christmas has potential. I think the media has screwed it up.
What is Christmas, in the media’s eyes? Merry holiday cheer and snowflakes and family bonding? Maybe. But why try to portray it like that? It’s a facade. If we look closely, we can tell it’s really about buying things. You buy something and give it to me, I buy something and give it to you, and maybe if we’re all really in the holiday spirit we’ll buy something and give it to some poor little kid somewhere whose parents can’t buy anything for them.
The holidays are the media selling us discontent, adorned with snowflakes and elves wielding candy canes.
Now, that discontent makes us want to go fill the gaps. And the corporations have posed a near-perfect solution: just come buy our thing! But that for me raises two important questions: what is that thing we’re buying, really, and how is it supposed to make us feel better?
So let’s tackle the first question – what. The products we buy out of holiday marketing-induced discontent vary wildly, from clothing to shoes to toys to appliances to cars, and many many more. We’re being sold, “You’re not generous enough!” so we spend money on these objects to bestow upon other people. These things are produced on a mass scale, to be consumed at a mass scale, and then often to be disposed of fairly soon after. (We won’t go into the symbolism and subconscious messages behind each of these products, because that would make this essay too long.) The processes of creating, using, and ridding ourselves of these things generates unbelievable amounts of waste – a lot of it toxic, and nearly all of it dumped out of sight (often back on the people who produced it on the other side of the world). I won’t go too far into the specifics – if you’re curious, the book to read is Stuff: The Secret Lives of Everyday Things – but I will make sure this is clear: the media’s holiday discontent is hurting our planet and a whole bunch of other people who reside on it who are responsible for producing and cleaning up our things.
Now we can attack the second question – how is this supposed to make us feel better? The honest answer is that the media has trained us to believe that stuff – massive consumerism – will smooth over any emotional conflicts. We get ideas planted in our heads through television, movies, music, etc. about who and what we’re supposed to be. When we inevitably fail to accomplish all of those markers of “success,” we’re told, “Don’t worry! We can fix this for you with x y or z new product!” The urge to avoid our feelings of dissatisfaction is so strong, and the habit so ingrained. It starts when we’re kids, and by the time we have the capacity to think critically about it, we’re way beyond habituated. The media has accomplished its goal: to make us believe that we can buy satisfaction, and that if we only had enough, or could buy enough, we’d be truly happy.
And what about the people who don’t buy into this system? Well, we’re grinches, you see; our hearts have been hardened somewhere along the line so we don’t see the beauty alighting children’s faces when they’re pacified with ever-more objects which will soon be thrown away. But I can tell you honestly that my heart has not been hardened but opened, because I now keep in mind all of the people making all of these things, and the planet – our planet – being destroyed in the process. And that’s a better gift than I ever could have gotten in a box from a mass-market store.
So, happy holidays. This essay is one of very few gifts I’m giving this year (just this and the physical ones for my host family, because sometimes tradition trumps). It was written with you in mind. I hope you like it.