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“You’re Santa Claus 24 hours a day, seven days a week, 52 weeks a year.” Acting out may shatter “the magic.”
Credit: inhauscreative via Getty Images
Tis the season when professional Santas are in peak demand, but many who choose this line of work often view it as a higher calling and maintain some aspects of the identity all year round—even those who don’t fit the stereotypical popular image of Santa, according to a paper published in the Academy of Management Journal.
Co-author Christina Hymer of the University of Tennessee got the idea for the study during the COVID pandemic, when she spent a lot of time watching Christmas movies with her toddler. One favorite was 2003’s Elf, starring Will Farrell as a full-sized human raised among elves who goes to New York City to find his biological father. The film prompted her to wonder about why someone would want to be Santa Claus and what their experiences in that role would be.
Hymer and her co-authors partnered with the leader of a “Santa school” to analyze archival surveys of 849 professional Santas, and conducted a new survey of another 382 Santas. They also did over 50 personal interviews with professional Santas. (One subject showed up in full costume for his zoom interview, with a North Pole background, and signed off with a merry “ho! ho! ho!”)
Hymer et al. found that professional Santas tend to fall into one of three categories. The first is a prototypical Santa: straight, portly white men with natural white beards. There are also semi-prototypical Santas who might fit the traditional physical characteristics in some respects but not others—they might be younger, or slimmer, or clean-shaven. Finally, there are non-prototypical Santas who are well outside the traditional depiction: people of color, women, disabled Santas, or LGBTQ+ Santas.
“There are pretty strong societal expectations around what Santa looks like, but we found that most anybody can be Santa if their heart desires it,” said co-author Borbala Csillag of Oregon State University. “When we looked at the people behind the suit, we found that the folks playing Santa are really more diverse than would be expected. The expectations for playing the role may seem exclusive, but they are surmountable. Think about your attributes in a comprehensive way so you can identify the dimensions of the role that are well-fitting. You will likely find attributes that map to that calling, even if they are not obvious at first.”
Not just a seasonal gig
Frankly, what’s most interesting about the paper isn’t those three fundamental categories, but the personalized glimpses it gives of the people who choose to become professional Santas. While a few Santas might make six figures, most do not, and may even lose money being Santa—they do it anyway for the sheer love of it. Professional Santas usually don’t see the role as seasonal; many build their identities around it, whether they fit the stereotypical Kris Kringle image or not. “My feeling is, if you’re Santa all the time, you have to live as Santa and give up whoever you are,” said one subject. “I’m just striving to be a better person.”
They’ll wear red and green all year round, for instance, or maintain a full white beard. One Santa trained himself to make “Ho, ho, ho!” his natural laugh. Another redecorated his house as “Santa’s house,” complete with Christmas trees and Santa figurines.
Sometimes it’s viewed as a role: a gay professional Santa, for instance, deliberately suppresses his sexual orientation when playing Santa, complete with partnering with a Mrs. Claus for public appearances. However, a female Santa who goes by Lynx (professional Santas typically take on pseudonyms) who is also a church leader, likens the job to a divine calling: “I can connect with people and remind them they’re loved,” she said. (She also binds her breasts when in costume because “Santa doesn’t have them double-Ds.”)
Perhaps that sense of a higher calling is why even non-prototypical Santas like Lynx persevere in the fact of occasional rejection. One Black Santa recalled being denied the position at a big box store once the interviewer found out his ethnicity, telling him the store didn’t hire Black or Hispanic Santas. “That hurt my heart so much,” he said. A disabled Santa who uses a scooter during parades recalled being criticized by other professional Santas for doing so—but stuck with it.
And while Bad Santa (2003) might be a fun holiday watch, actual “bad Santas” caught smoking, drinking, swearing, or otherwise behaving inappropriately are not popular figures within their community. “You’re never off,” one subject opined. “You lose a little bit of your identity because you can’t let your hair down and be yourself. You don’t know who’s watching you.”
“You’re Santa Claus 24 hours a day, seven days a week, 52 weeks a year,” another Santa said. “If you act out, you risk shattering the magic.”
DOI: Academy of Management Journal, 2025. 10.5465/amj.2023.1161 (About DOIs).
Credit: inhauscreative via Getty Images
Tis the season when professional Santas are in peak demand, but many who choose this line of work often view it as a higher calling and maintain some aspects of the identity all year round—even those who don’t fit the stereotypical popular image of Santa, according to a paper published in the Academy of Management Journal.
Co-author Christina Hymer of the University of Tennessee got the idea for the study during the COVID pandemic, when she spent a lot of time watching Christmas movies with her toddler. One favorite was 2003’s Elf, starring Will Farrell as a full-sized human raised among elves who goes to New York City to find his biological father. The film prompted her to wonder about why someone would want to be Santa Claus and what their experiences in that role would be.
Hymer and her co-authors partnered with the leader of a “Santa school” to analyze archival surveys of 849 professional Santas, and conducted a new survey of another 382 Santas. They also did over 50 personal interviews with professional Santas. (One subject showed up in full costume for his zoom interview, with a North Pole background, and signed off with a merry “ho! ho! ho!”)
Hymer et al. found that professional Santas tend to fall into one of three categories. The first is a prototypical Santa: straight, portly white men with natural white beards. There are also semi-prototypical Santas who might fit the traditional physical characteristics in some respects but not others—they might be younger, or slimmer, or clean-shaven. Finally, there are non-prototypical Santas who are well outside the traditional depiction: people of color, women, disabled Santas, or LGBTQ+ Santas.
“There are pretty strong societal expectations around what Santa looks like, but we found that most anybody can be Santa if their heart desires it,” said co-author Borbala Csillag of Oregon State University. “When we looked at the people behind the suit, we found that the folks playing Santa are really more diverse than would be expected. The expectations for playing the role may seem exclusive, but they are surmountable. Think about your attributes in a comprehensive way so you can identify the dimensions of the role that are well-fitting. You will likely find attributes that map to that calling, even if they are not obvious at first.”
Not just a seasonal gig
Frankly, what’s most interesting about the paper isn’t those three fundamental categories, but the personalized glimpses it gives of the people who choose to become professional Santas. While a few Santas might make six figures, most do not, and may even lose money being Santa—they do it anyway for the sheer love of it. Professional Santas usually don’t see the role as seasonal; many build their identities around it, whether they fit the stereotypical Kris Kringle image or not. “My feeling is, if you’re Santa all the time, you have to live as Santa and give up whoever you are,” said one subject. “I’m just striving to be a better person.”
They’ll wear red and green all year round, for instance, or maintain a full white beard. One Santa trained himself to make “Ho, ho, ho!” his natural laugh. Another redecorated his house as “Santa’s house,” complete with Christmas trees and Santa figurines.
Sometimes it’s viewed as a role: a gay professional Santa, for instance, deliberately suppresses his sexual orientation when playing Santa, complete with partnering with a Mrs. Claus for public appearances. However, a female Santa who goes by Lynx (professional Santas typically take on pseudonyms) who is also a church leader, likens the job to a divine calling: “I can connect with people and remind them they’re loved,” she said. (She also binds her breasts when in costume because “Santa doesn’t have them double-Ds.”)
Perhaps that sense of a higher calling is why even non-prototypical Santas like Lynx persevere in the fact of occasional rejection. One Black Santa recalled being denied the position at a big box store once the interviewer found out his ethnicity, telling him the store didn’t hire Black or Hispanic Santas. “That hurt my heart so much,” he said. A disabled Santa who uses a scooter during parades recalled being criticized by other professional Santas for doing so—but stuck with it.
And while Bad Santa (2003) might be a fun holiday watch, actual “bad Santas” caught smoking, drinking, swearing, or otherwise behaving inappropriately are not popular figures within their community. “You’re never off,” one subject opined. “You lose a little bit of your identity because you can’t let your hair down and be yourself. You don’t know who’s watching you.”
“You’re Santa Claus 24 hours a day, seven days a week, 52 weeks a year,” another Santa said. “If you act out, you risk shattering the magic.”
DOI: Academy of Management Journal, 2025. 10.5465/amj.2023.1161 (About DOIs).
