How Christmas’ consumerism only comes earlier each year.
By Kyan Feser
Staff Writer
Editorial
In 1843, Charles Dickens’ classic, “A Christmas Carol,” was published.
The book follows Ebenezer Scrooge, a man of endless greed, as he learns selflessness and how to love Christmas. The tale is anti-capitalist, suggesting the wealthy should provide for the poor.
The term “Scrooge” has changed meaning since “A Christmas Carol.” Once epitomizing a selfish capitalist, the name currently ridicules anyone who questions or cannot participate in Christmas’ consumerism.
That said, I’m going to be a Scrooge right now.
It seems like Christmas comes sooner every year. If you bought Halloween decorations last month, you probably saw ornaments before ghouls.
Maybe I’ve just lost my whimsy, but an egregious window for Christmas shopping spoils my holiday experience. As a Halloween lover, Christmas memorabilia diluting the spookiness is downright annoying, but doesn’t that annoyance signal hypocrisy? By loving Halloween, I’m engaging with the exact system I’m criticizing.
If anything, Halloween is far from innocent in terms of consumerism. Decorations, candy and costumes all cost money. What’s the difference between Halloween and Christmas?
I think the difference lies in societal expectations.
For instance, my parents skipped Halloween this year. My sister has special needs and had it incredibly rough this October, so instead of decorating and handing out candy, my family took her somewhere fun.
There was no uproar or passive aggression from our festive neighbors. Instead, the night proceeded as normal. In my opinion, Christmas doesn’t provide this grace, as skipping Christmas is usually deemed immoral.
Whenever I see anybody skip Christmas decorating, gift-giving or other seasonal customs, I can’t help but think, “man, they’re Scrooge-like”, as opposed to the little thought I’d give a family leaving a bowl of candy outside their home.
This reaction is no coincidence; it’s a reflection of the so-called “true meaning of Christmas” we’ve been taught our entire lives as Americans.
If your family’s like mine, you’ve probably watched countless films about cynical protagonists, usually people with basic class consciousness, discovering Christmas isn’t just about consumerism, but about spending time with your family and being generous or, if you’re a believer, remembering the Christian roots of the holiday.
While I agree with the sentiment of these films on paper, they read like propaganda to inspire ignorance.
In reality, if you can’t afford the time or money to visit your family on Christmas, you’re viewed as selfish. If you can afford to visit your family, but not buy gifts for everyone, you’re also viewed as selfish. Are you unable to attend church or donate because you’re stuck working a minimum wage job? Once again, you’ll be viewed as selfish.
These stigmas are largely absent on Halloween. If a child sees a house lacking candy or decorations, they’ll simply visit the next house. Plus, a single Halloween costume is cheaper than a new Xbox.
In summary, experiencing the “true meaning of Christmas” is viewed as morally correct per its concept of selflessness, gatekept by one’s ability to consume, meaning consumerism is inherent to the holiday, and ridicule is expected for anyone unable or unwilling to spend money.
A Scrooge is no longer a wealthy capitalist whose greed hurts those around them. Instead, it’s a victim or protester of holiday greed. The less money you spend, the more you’re seen as ungrateful for the people around you.
Now, if you were a business conglomerate maximizing profits, why not extend the season where consumption is a moral expectation? Sure, Halloween is a moneymaker, but it pales in comparison to gargantuan Christmas profits. The sooner Christmas is in stores, the sooner people feel obligated to spend money.
If you aren’t willing to spend some festive cash, well, nobody likes a Scrooge.
