It’s interesting how often I’ve been asked — at least with respect to writing this blog and proclaiming myself the ‘skepdad’ — about my thoughts on Santa Claus. I’m sure one could speculate on the breadth of questions this evokes, and those speculations would likely be fairly accurate. And following up on a few of my cop-out answers in past years, in 2009 it seems that the need for a parental policy on the subject has finally surfaced. In fact, though I’ve been previously quoted as saying…

“My thoughts on critical thinking are not necessarily (at least in front of kids) about… pulling the beard off of Santa in the mall.” ^[1]

…this particular holiday season has actually provided me with numerous opportunities to do just that (metaphorically speaking, of course.)

Yet, I haven’t.

Rather, I’ve found myself doing quite the opposite task of re-enforcing the myth. And while at first all that story-telling and santa-claus-is-coming-town blather left my skepdad senses tingling, I have been recently left to consider if it might not be both justifiable AND the right thing to do. Let me explain.

“So, how do you explain Santa?” I’ve been asked. And until recently my humble reply has been along the lines that — thankfully — I hadn’t needed to yet, but I was adamantly against lying to children. Fair enough, right? Sure. That is until the Girl, now good-and-properly two years old, happily a toddler, and (thanks to the saturation of the Kris Kringle story from a laundry list of sources) became fully convinced that in a couple more “sleeps” Santa is going to squeeze through the chimney of our gas fireplace, eat the cookies she helped her mom bake, and leave behind a new jigsaw puzzle under the tree. (Yes, we have a tree.)

Not only would my heart crumble into a cold, shattered lump on the floor were I to break her of this belief in the near future, I’d immediately turn around and question what I’d accomplished. While my self-doubt is most admittedly a purely gut (and arguably irrational, emotional, and un-skeptical) reaction I’m going to stick by philosophy and add the big old skepdad caveats here: (a) my description of skeptical parenting is never so much about the parent, but the child; (b) healthy skepticism cannot and should not be enforced upon anyone, particularly kids, but rather presented (and ultimately chosen) as a way of thinking about the world, and; (c) I tend to think that raising a critical thinker requires a solid foundation of fodder for cognitive dissonance.

So, where does that leave this skepdad? I’ve got a list of indictments against St. Nick, but there are couple big ones worth exploring that unbalance the equation well enough to argue:

Rampant Consumerism

One of my own initial objections was the argument that by endorsing the Santa myth there was a correlating endorsement of the gift giving and (more critically) gift receiving ideology of the holiday season. I’m sure we’re all guilty of eying up something we saw advertised or on display. And I myself would argue — often in objection to the glut of random gift exchanges — that I’m fairly sick of all the gifts-for-gifts-sake.

So, is such a correlation true? Is there argument to be had around the fact that writing wish-lists, promising presents for good behavior, and systematically linking one day in December to a gush of materialistic fervor is a bad thing? A good thing?

Rather, I might suggest that there is much to be said about taking another step back and rationally analyzing the reaction to the argument. Simply stated, one may not agree with the depth and duration of the spend-spend-spend mentality that afflicts so many of us, but there might be value to be gained from acknowledging the deeper significance and purpose of the generosity of giving a gift and too, the inherent joy in receiving a gift. I would argue that both pro-consumerism and the opposition to it (my own included) are not a particularly skeptical standpoints. Politics rarely is. And like anything else, I’d think that moderation, tempering, and balanced education with respect to gifts in the holidays has the potential to go far with kids.

If Santa is merely the designated family shopper — and a moody one at that — of course he’s got the potential to be a negative influence. And left to shop out of control, he’s definitely open to becoming:

The Unfair Giver

In my article in 2007 I hinted at this argument, though never fully supporting the mentality. It is true: Santa tends to be far nicer to rich kids. An easy solution is available, of course, again to those with financial means — cut back on what Santa brings in his sack — but to those without, no such luck.

But consumerism aside there is also…

Lies and the Escalation of Lies

Of course much of this brings us back to the original thought that — as a parent — I’m fairly bothered by the idea of lying to kids. And by that I mean big, genuine, deliberate, outright lies. Specifically, obfuscating lies. I don’t think that if a kid asks a legitimate, direct, information-seeking question to an adult that there is justification in giving them false information. And there is the danger, I would suggest, that in building the myth of Santa requires not only the fabrication of the initial concept in the head of the child, but the ongoing escalation of that myth — an obfuscation of the truth, perhaps — through an intricate web of fiction and false ideas to not only support the concept,but to cloud the critical thought surrounding it.

Now, I’m sure it could be argued from the perspective of ‘all lies are bad’ that such a fabrication is a big old no-no for any parent. And while this does pose a rather large problem for the skeptical parent — that problem being the absolute control of information and isolation of a child from the myth from a vast variety of sources (family, friends, media, etc) — it could arguably be accomplished with careful planning and inventive explanations to the hypothetical kid in question. But the real question here, or at least I think it’s the real question, is when does the story of Santa change from just that — a story — to a lie? In other words, when should we as parents really pull the beard off Santa and tell the truth, particularly when as skeptics that’s our stock-in-trade on a whole variety of myths and stories?

I think I’m going to go back to my caveats for this one:

Kids and Critical Thinking

(a) my description of skeptical parenting is never so much about the parent, but the child;

That’s right. You read me correctly. So? You’re a skeptical parent — emphasis on parent — and sometimes that means putting aside your absolute need for truth and letting the kid decide when she wants to stop tolerating the fiction. And I honestly didn’t think I’d be able to tell when that point would occur. I still wonder, though more-and-more I understand that there ain’t-gonna-be-no memo about it. However, I am fairly certain, looking at the glow in the eyes of my two year old daughter, that we haven’t reached that point yet. The story is still innocent. The lie — if we can even call it that right now — is incapable of question, and the foundation for a whole swath of hope in a young girl’s mind. And I’m not yet obfuscating the truth — as a thin line as that is — as much as I am contributing to a pleasant fiction which she has little cause (and little reason) to doubt. After all, why should she doubt it? Is it going to make her as a two-year-old a better person? Is it going to add to her future rationality? Or… or by thinking of this purely from my own adult perspective and without that foundation or starting point would we be denying opportunity and choice, in that:

(b) healthy skepticism cannot and should not be enforced upon anyone, particularly kids, but rather presented (and ultimately chosen) as a way of thinking about the world; and (c) I tend to think that raising a critical thinker requires a solid foundation of fodder for cognitive dissonance.

As skeptical parents we’ve all crossed the great mental divide that is cognitive dissonance. At one point two contrary ideas butted up against one another in our brains, and the result was shades of gray in our gray matter. We stopped believing in simple statements and began to seek evidence for ideas, however imperfect we might be at that effort. But how are we going to teach our kids that way of thinking? Can we? Should we?

The more I’ve thought about it, the more I think that critically thinking kids blossom — discover that capacity in themselves — from the chance and willingness to break down their own belief systems. They ask a question. They get an answer. And the capacity of our brains to break previously held ideas through this process is what makes us humans with the capacity for critical thought. That does mean we need a belief system to break, permission to misunderstand the world before we understand it from an evidence-based perspective, and others to questions who can recognize the difference between ideas that support innocent fictions and lies that maintain darker deceptions.

In fact, I would argue kids need Santa because Santa brings so much more than gifts. Santa is the universal deception of our society, a falsehood we as adults agree is a story to fool kids. And unlike so much else that will dangle as mis-perceptions into their later lives, Santa gives one equal gift to every kid — rich and poor, and something no one needs to visit the mall to buy — the gift of the opportunity to stop believing in him.