The Greatest Lie of All: Should We Tell Kids Santa is Real?

It’s the most wonderful time of the year. Mariah Carey has been released from her icy prison, retailers are putting everything on awesome sales in hopes you will buy, and a certain man in red with a heavy burlap sack is working hard in his busiest time of year. 

That’s right, Santa, that jolly man of size with the snow-white beard and the twinkle in his eye, is going to be the center of attention, especially for American children, who, until they reach the age of disillusionment, will believe in this vaguely supernatural being with the reindeer and the elven factory at the North Pole.

Get ready for the sleigh ride of a lifetime as we discuss the history of Santa as a cultural symbol, and question the ethics of lying to kids about the existence of a mythical being. Let’s get festive!

From a Saint to Jolly: European Origins of an American Christmas Classic

Many of us may have some idea of the origins of the particularly American version of Santa: an elderly man of size who smiles a lot and gorges on milk and cookies overnight as he gets down to the business of work: giving presents to kids on the nice list. That’s right: he watches the behavior of kids all year, weighs the morality, then makes his lists of naughty and nice.

As we have mentioned elsewhere, the American Santa has his roots in the Dutch tradition of Sinterklaas, a dude who comes to the country on the saint day of St. Nicholas of Myra, the legendary bishop of the early church, who was known for his kindness and giving nature. It is Sint, who tosses small gifts into the shoes of young kids, who can really be credited for giving the American Santa his look and demeanor. Sint, too, vanishes after he’s done his thing, though perhaps with more ceremony.

This also makes sense if you sound out the name and then the later one: Sinterklaas, Santa Claus. Say it more than once.

And in fact, this is just what happened. In the 18th century, settlers from the Netherlands brought Sinterkaas with them to New York (then New Amsterdam), wanting to keep their cultural traditions alive in their new home. As the 19th century progressed, certain literature altered the myth of Sinterklaas, giving him reindeer to pull his sleigh, and turning him into a portly giver of gifts, who sneaks into people’s houses not on his night, but on Christmas Eve.

“A Visit from Saint Nicholas,” better known as “The Night Before Christmas,” (published anonymously in 1823) sort of sealed the deal for Santa, giving him eight reindeer and the appearance us Americans have come to know and love. And as the 19th turned to the 20th century, marketing got on board and created the iconic Coca Cola Santa. The rest is history (and commercialism, let’s be real).

A cartoon by 19th century cartoonist Thomas Nast, depicting Santa on a stage, lifting a curtain. Courtesy of Wiki Commons and the Library of Congress.

Santa: The Feigned Reality and Disillusionment of Childhood

While talking to my dear friend who is from and lives in the Netherlands, I found a lot of similarities between the cultural practices of the Dutch Sinterklaas and Santa Claus in the US. For the OG, traditionally, presents (like candy or fruit, etc.) are distributed into shoes several evenings while the children sleep. My Dutch friend helpfully told me, “Sinterklaas is old as balls,” as are such traditions.

In the US (and now much of the world), presents are distributed only on Christmas Eve, that is, the night before Christmas. As we have noted before, we are made to believe that Santa, even on his magical sleigh, takes care of the entire world in one evening. Even with timezones and the idea of Australia, for instance, the idea is absurd. But we expect children to believe in a person who can do this. In short, we lie when we tell them that Sant will come and give them the presents we bought them.

But I can’t deny the kindness in the idea of Santa. A man who works hard to offer children a little joy on one day, when it’s quite possible that many may have little joy throughout the rest of the year. In a welfare, single-parent household growing up, the idea of Santa and Christmas brightened an often difficult existence. And while my mother was poor, she always made sure to give my sister and I a good Christmas, even if it meant putting something on layaway and paying it off for months.

The American childhood, though, around Santa, is the kind lie your parents tell you about his existence, and about your own goodness reflecting in his gifts. It is a part of growing up in most of the US, but another part of childhood lies in the dissolution of that lie, in the disillusionment that happens when we discover Santa is not, in fact, real.

One of the common things people of my age (and others) like to discuss around this time of year is when we stopped believing in Santa. For some of us, our parents got exasperated with the pomp and circumstance and said, “Well look, Santa just isn’t real.” For others of us, we maybe found the presents hiding in Dad’s closet, or waited for Santa…until dawn. And for others of us, the disillusionment is gradual and a little sad, because we maybe didn’t entirely believe, but we wanted to believe in something good, something kind.

Should We Make Kids Believe in the Lie of Santa

Santa is something like a social construct. He’s lovely and really has been embodied in so many cultures, inspiring art, literature, and film that spanned over two centuries (not to mention the many centuries of St. Nicholas and Sinterklaas lore). 

According to philosophy, should we maintain this lie to children? When I started writing this article, I thought to tell you what Kant would have thought about lying, and what J. S. Mill might have thought about lying to children in a utilitarian way. But then I wondered, what do I think? Because, in most ethical systems, lying is a bad thing. While you may be able to finagle it through utilitarianism or a subjective way of looking at ethics, a lie of such proportions is, if you really think about it, kind of hard to handle.

If I were the edgelord that I wanted to be, I would say that, because of the commercial nature of Santa, who seems to be the spokesperson of everything this time of year, we should not allow young people to even take part in the belief of Santa. In fact, there is even some cruelty in propagating a belief that children eventually figure out is untrue. You lose a little childhood joy when you find out that Santa does not, in fact, exist.

But the myth of Santa is a gentle lie, one of the few that individuals can stretch to as big or small as they like. It’s also a way of brightening a holiday that occurs during the darkest days of the year. 

As a child, I liked to believe that the reindeer would stop in as well, and left little salads for each of them. My mother never mentioned this as part of the myth, the lie, but being an imaginative child, I wanted to offer the reindeer food, as well as Santa his cookies. There was a joy in the reciprocity of giving that, even after you are older and well past the Santa belief, is the best part of celebrating the holiday..

Whether it be sharing a Mass with other churchgoers, taking part in a food drive, giving a friend the gift they really wanted, or just being with people you care about and sharing a meal, I think the essence of Christmas is in giving, and so in having children believe in Santa, we share with them a kinder part of humanity, and prepare them for when they, too, will have to take on the role of Santa in their own adult lives.

It’s not the conclusion I thought I’d come to, but it’s one I am more satisfied with. Santa is about the generosity of giving and kindness, and that is not a bad lie after all.