There are two types of people in November. The ones who roll their eyes the minute a Christmas ad appears, and the ones who count down to the minute they can search ‘this years Christmas ads’ on YouTube.
Either way, we’ve all been conditioned to expect it, the official start of Christmas isn’t December 1st anymore — it’s when the first emotional retail montage drops on our screens... or quite possibly a huge lit up red 18 wheeler.
This is indeed the golden age of the Christmas ad
Once upon a time, an advert was just an advert. “Buy the thing, it’s cheap.” Job done. Then, around the early 2010s, something changed. John Lewis spent an absolute bomb, unleashed a snowman with separation anxiety, and suddenly advertising became art. (Let’s be real we all loved that first one)
Now, every year, we’re treated to short films about misunderstood monsters, lonely pensioners on the moon, or carrots having existential crisis’ — all to the tune of a stripped-back cover of an 80s classic sung by someone with a voice like warm porridge.
And we lap it up. Even the cynics who swear they don’t care end up watching “just to see what they’ve done this year.” Because these things aren’t really adverts anymore, they’re events. They’re seasonal moments, cultural checkpoints, the festive Superbowl.
Let’s be honest — they know exactly what they’re doing. Slow pan, gentle piano, a child staring longingly at a frosty window. By the 30-second mark you’re emotionally compromised. By the end, you’re googling the price of a toaster and buying your loved ones gifts they didn't know they wanted.
Is it manipulative and consumerism at its worst?... Yes — but almost beautifully so. They tap into a universal cocktail of nostalgia, loneliness, and love. They remind us of how Christmas feels, not how it looks: that mix of chaos and comfort, joy and melancholy.
And maybe that’s why they work , because underneath all the sentiment and marketing, we want to feel something. Even if it’s over a CGI bear buying a scarf.
But here’s the thing . When everyone’s trying to make you cry, it loses its edge. We’ve reached a point where Christmas ads have become their own competition: who can make Britain collectively sob the hardest?
It’s got to the stage where people review them like they’re Oscar contenders. “Good concept, weak execution, lacked emotional punch.” It’s the only time of year you’ll hear a grown adult say, “Yeah, it was alright — but it wasn’t as good as the one with the penguin.”
Maybe it’s time we let them breathe again. Not every Christmas needs to be a cinematic event. Sometimes a simple “here’s some socks, happy holidays” is enough.
Still, for all our cynicism, we’ll keep watching. Because the truth is, we like being reminded — however artificially — that there’s still room for kindness and connection. That maybe, for a few weeks, it’s okay to be a bit sentimental… and drink 5 pints too many every night.
Christmas ads have become part of the ritual. The lights go up, the jumpers come out, (you get a trim) and somewhere on TV a small child teaches an alien the meaning of friendship. We sigh, we smile, we text someone “have you seen it yet?” and we’re in. The season has begun.
So yes, they’re manipulative. Yes, they’re predictable. Yes we are about to drop one on our instagram. But they’re also one of the few things that still make the country collectively stop, watch, and feel something together. So pipe down Scrooge and enjoy.
