Why the Office Secret Santa Tradition Has Become a Toxic Ritual
My personal experience with disappointment and a recipe for making gifts enjoyable again
I held a wad of plastic wrap in my hands, inside of which lay a golden pig with a broken wing. It was my Secret Santa gift at a prestigious IT company. In that moment, I realized: this tradition, which was supposed to bring colleagues together, was, in fact, deeply flawed.
 |
| Photo by the author |
From Scandinavian Knock to the Great Depression: Where Did Santa Come From?
It all began with the Scandinavian Julklapp, or “Christmas knock.” The tradition was playful and mysterious: the giver would knock on the door, drop a gift on the threshold, and run away. Attached to the package (often just a twig or straw) was a rhyming riddle that had to be guessed out loud to reveal who the gift was from.
In the 1930s, at the height of the Great Depression, the game became a lifesaver. People didn’t have the money for expensive gifts, and “Secret Santa” allowed them to exchange small but heartfelt gifts. Later, in the 1970s, philanthropist Larry Dean Stewart transformed it into an act of anonymous charity, handing out money to the needy on the streets.
The tradition was conceived as a triumph of attention over price. But when it migrated to modern offices and became a mandatory part of HR plans, the magic of sincerity collided with harsh reality.
The Expectation Trap: Why We Hope for Miracles and End Up Disappointed
I first encountered Secret Santa when I was working at an IT company. No one else celebrated it. Back then, it seemed like something interesting, and I was very intrigued and excited.
HR said that if you don’t know what to give, you can find out what the person wants. You just have to say whose name came out of a hat. She found out, and I bought what the person wanted. In this case, the person said:
“I love chocolates and Kinder chocolates, maybe I can get some of that.”
I thought it would be a good gift, since I love those too. I bought a large box of chocolates and some Kinder products. I wrapped them beautifully, so the person would be pleased to receive them. For some reason, I thought everyone would be just as attentive to the occasion. But I was wrong. HR didn’t ask me what I liked.
 |
| Photo by the author |
The morning of “Day X” quickly shattered my illusions
The next day after the Company Party, Secret Santa began in the morning. I picked up something strange, and they called my name. I went to receive this strange lump of something. I reached out to pick up the strange package…
It turned out to be a gold-colored candle — a fat pig with glitter-covered wings — one wing broken off at the base. It was wrapped in clear plastic wrap that had already been used. It was tied at the top with a ribbon in poor condition, the ends frayed.
I felt so devalued and hurt. Not only had no one wanted to know what I wanted, but they also wanted something broken, ugly, and unkempt. I was so upset. I threw it away.
Wine and a Sense of Duty: When a Holiday Becomes Compulsory
It was another Secret Santa. I found out someone wanted a thermos mug, so I bought it and wrapped it beautifully again.
This time, they asked me what I wanted. I said brut champagne. They did buy me champagne, but it wasn’t brut, and it wasn’t real champagne, but a wine made from the pomace of grape skins. The cheapest kind of swill that can make you sick. I certainly didn’t drink it. It’s only good for cleaning toilets.
Since then, I don’t like Secret Santas. You spend money, and it’s not voluntary; it’s forced. If you want to refuse, they start manipulating you, saying you’re against your colleagues. And I just don’t understand why you spend money on people who aren’t close friends and then get something unpleasant.
 |
| Photo by the author |
Soap, Marshmallows, and Sincerity: How to Save the Christmas Spirit Outside of Office Rules
For some reason, Secret Santa was cancelled in the third year. I don’t remember exactly why. But one of my colleagues, with whom I had always been close, was worried about it. I knew she wanted a gift. And I knew what she liked. And she absolutely loved bar soap.
I bought three different types of soap, the scents of which I liked best, a box of delicious marshmallows in real chocolate — which I love myself — and a couple of other little things. At the end of the workday, before the holiday, I gave it to her — with the words, “Here comes Secret Santa!”
She was so happy! And I was so pleased. This time, I was giving the gift myself to someone I liked, who didn’t demand it. It was wonderful to see the joy on her face! She didn’t expect it and was so happy! Then she smelled the soap! I was so pleased! That evening, she came to me with a gift too! It was so nice! We sat, drank tea, and chatted!
There was no pressure this time; everything was entirely voluntary. I wasn’t expecting any gifts from her, but I loved what she brought me — it included frosting, a Christmas tree ornament, and sweets! That’s what a Secret Santa should be like — freely given, for the people you care about!
I believe gifts should bring joy, not be thrown in the trash right after the office party. That’s why I create things I find interesting and valuable. Check out my shop — you might find something useful or just sweet that you definitely won’t want to re-gift. 🦝
What was the strangest or most offensive gift you’ve ever received from Secret Santa? Share your stories in the comments — let’s have a worst-gift parade!
Comments
Post a Comment