Santa Claus, I was told, is Real.
“Is He?” I asked, at that age when innocent naivety begins to softly waver like the dulling of an eye — sparkle snuffing. A candle waning.
“Is He? Tell me, please!” (I begged). “Is He real?” (Capital He, because Santa Claus was on par with God, as far as I was concerned.)
I had heard whispers by now, at school, in the streets, along the grapevine, that He was not.
My mother looked me, dead in the eyes. Her answer?
“Yes! Of course!” She sounded hurt. “How could you even ask that?!”
The rumour mill was in full business then. Alas, the pain in my mother’s voice convinced me. It was all a cruel rumour. Santa Claus was real. Perhaps I would have to test him a little, just to be sure, but for now, He was Innocent until proven Guilty.
Well we don’t need a plot spoiled to know how this story ends, so I’ll save sharing the moment when my heart broke like Ralph Wiggum’s. Was Santa Claus the intro lesson in betrayal?
What kind of lie is it that the Easter Bunny Exists? Or Santa Claus, or the tooth fairy? Bold faced, white lie, a harmless fib, simple, goodly intended deception? It’s an elaborate one, that’s for sure, one so big that it is bigger than just one — it is built upon a rich foundation that others have already layed, one that sprawls decades and multi continents and has been passed on from parent to child, over and over again, layer upon layer upon layer.
Beyond the perpetuation of a myth, what I find particularly fascinating is the individual lengths each parent will stretch — the inventive world building and intentional coloring in of idiosyncratic details that transform what is a shared, generic character into a personal, familial tradition.
My Santa is different from yours. He wrote me handwritten letters in curly, wispy cursive. He was unpredictable with how much milk he drank, and he preferred carrot cake or Christmas cake over the more conventional cookies. We had a deep connection fostered not simply by the delivery of a gift, but by the exchange of letters.
Likewise, I don’t know about yours, but my childhood Tooth fairy was known to be a #GirlBoss businesswoman, with a tight schedule whom I interacted with purely on the transactional basis of product trading. We didn’t chat. Didn’t know the lass. She was just the one Dad called when a tooth fell out and I was delighted with her speedy one-night only collection policy (pop it under the pillow and in the morning a Five Dollar bill would be in its place). Needless to say, while I delighted in the routine, I wasn’t offended when the TF proved to be not merely a contact of my father’s, but the actual man himself, nimble fingered and bravely determined to work the night shift. It hadn’t been personal. It had been business.
Deep, rich tradition is rarely made in business though. It is made in the magical. People talk about Christmas losing its sparkle once kids grow up. I think it’s true. I think Christmas takes on a new vibrancy, both through the childish belief in magic, and connectedly in the innocence that makes this possible. Innocence, when pure and uncorrupted, is shiny. It suggests that something or someone has yet to be tainted or scuffed by the reality of the world. It is hopeful. It promises optimism. And something about this innocence and unbridled joy encourages it in others.
Yes, the Easter bunny, Santa Claus, maybe even the tooth fairy — they are all elaborate lies. White lies. So I ask: Could there be any real moral downfalls in something that is undeniably built around intended goodwill? Is there a moral queasiness to such a white lie? Or is betrayal’s angelic sister, understood to be forgiven under the intension of heralding magic and joy to a childish, imaginative mind? Doubly, the revival of these mythical characters are soaked in nostalgia for a parent, forming a bridge back to their own inner child. Is it wrong to tell a white lie when told for the purposes of cultural and familial tradition, expansive imaginativeness, childish joy, family bonding and ritual?
It seems unlikely. Doesn’t it? A white lie by definition is “often more like a harmless bending of the truth, the intent is benign and positive, and usually, the consequence isn’t major.” But when has intention been the be-all and end-all, and who is the primary recipient of the consequence? Necessarily, there is more grey in the idea than the name would suggest as it is predicated on the understanding that the person or people involved in the lie are morally sound (what is ‘benign’ and positive for who?) and moreover, capable of skilfully projecting the likely ‘consequences’ that may be inherent in the lie — a perceived white lie could actually be a disastrous lie. We’ve seen it throughout history.
I would also counter that many of the more common, so called ‘white lies’ are ones that still have an unsavoury impact. Take the “I’ll be there in 5 minutes” example (related to the “I’m getting in the car now”) banger. In this case it’s a self-serving white lie that takes liberty in assuming the impact upon the other person is minor. While the overall intention could be to diffuse a situation, or to reassure — seemingly positive outcomes — the lie serves only to delay or sidetrack the other person’s frustration while simultaneously disrespecting their time. Maybe just my opinion as the perpetually early party.
Sometime though, white lies may serve a social purpose. Dependently, they could even be spun into the moral high ground. Reassure your housemate that they do look amazing as they leave out the door on a first date! Having a ‘prior arrangement’ — watching a movie in bed — instead of attending a frenemy’s going away party successfully protects your spirit and still pats their ego. Much better than telling them you don’t like them. Anyone seen The Invention of Lying?
I wouldn’t think twice about the white lies of our mythical traditions if not for my aforementioned ‘deep personal connection’ with Santa Claus. Yes, I did believe to have a ‘deep connection’ with this mythical man, which is partly thanks to my Parent’s fantastical crumb-laying. That said, this imagined friendship was my own doing. I would pray to Santa at night, like a second phone line directly to the North pole, and when on the usual phone line to plain old regular God, I would pray for Santa, as if the jolly guy was in need of thoughts and prayers to see him through a horrendous pre-Christmas prep period.
My parents weren’t aware that I prayed to Him (or for Him) as far as I’m aware. If they were, perhaps there is no difference between belief in Santa Claus or Horoscopes, or Tarot Cards, if the argument is that they encourage open-mindedness and optimism.1
What I want to know is this: does the weight of the ‘consequence’ change when we are moulding the susceptible, young minds of children? Is there not a pang of discomfort? Is it really such a clean, go-ahead green light? WHAT IF THEY HAD A PERSONAL CONNECTION?! The shared nature of these mystical characters and the cultural traditions that they bring, encourage a silent complicity in the rampant permeation of these fabricated stories. It’s a lie for adults on behalf of children (which, let’s be honest, there are a few.2)
A further complication: when does the lie end? Are adults then responsible to decide when childhood is over? Because let’s be clear, childhood has really been slain by the Grim Reaper once Santa Claus is unbearded as fictional. It’s a slow decline into the real world from there. How do you know when your child is ready? And how will you tell them? Because a lie goes hand in hand with betrayal and this lie is a whole person and a bunch of reindeers.
Maybe it comes down to the revelation. In my opinion, the grapevine should not be relied upon by the parents. When Santa is dead, it’s time to slip into a decidedly adult role and grasp accountability by the hands. The truth is plain, the lie is elaborate, but let’s hope the memories built preserve some of the festive magic — just enough to justify the lie again once the child becomes a parent.
I know these are different, pls don’t come for me Horoscope fanatics.
But rather than protect them from the dark truths of the world, these lies encourage belief in the magic of it.