IBRBS has served this craft for a long time. It was built with good intent, by people who cared deeply about Santa Claus, Christmas, and the responsibility that comes with stepping into a role that carries real meaning for families and children.
That history matters.
It deserves respect.
But it’s also true that the world this organization was designed for no longer exists.
The craft has changed. The business has changed. Technology has changed. The nation – and the world – has changed. Expectations from families, venues, and the public have changed. And the way performers enter, learn, work, and sustain themselves in this role has changed dramatically.
That doesn’t mean IBRBS has failed.
It means it is aging into a moment that requires adaptation.
We now operate in a world shaped by AI-generated images and voices, social media at scale, specialty characters, designer beards, global markets, professional Mrs. Clauses, excessive risk of litigation, rapidly rising costs, regional training ecosystems, virtual visits, and performers navigating real businesses alongside volunteer service. Many of the structures that once worked quietly and effectively for IBRBS are now showing strain – not because of bad leadership, but because they were never designed for this level of complexity.
If we’re honest, the signals are already visible.
AI and the Future of the Craft
Artificial intelligence is no longer a future concern for Santa and Mrs. Claus. It is already here, already shaping public expectations, and already interacting with our likenesses, voices, and stories in ways that are mostly ungoverned. Some of us are already using AI to remarkably assist our Claus efforts. Some of us have already sold our likenesses for a pittance.
AI-generated Santas circulate daily. Voices can be cloned convincingly. Parents and photographers experiment with tools that place Santa into family photos or videos. Some have even replaced Santa in their family photos with AI-generated Santa Clauses. Children encounter dozens of “Santas” online before they ever meet one in person – and they arrive with those images already in their minds.
Performers are being asked to navigate questions of consent, ownership, training data, fair use, and misuse largely on their own, while trying to maintain relevance and good relationships with their clientele.
This isn’t a moral panic.
It’s a responsibility gap.
When tools capable of replicating Santa’s image and voice are already in children’s hands, what responsibility does a professional organization have to offer guidance – and what happens when it doesn’t?
Many of us look to organizations like IBRBS precisely for moments like this. Not to control innovation, but to help members understand emerging risks, establish shared ethical expectations, protect both performers and the public, and to promote real in-person experiences with Clauses to the public. When there is no guidance, individuals are left exposed, and the craft becomes reactive rather than intentional.
Ignoring AI doesn’t preserve tradition.
It allows others outside of our community to define the future of Santa without us.
Mrs. Claus and an Expanded Professional Landscape
At the same time, the scope of the craft itself has widened. I like to refer to this widened scope as the new “Santa Cinematic Universe” or SCU.
Mrs. Claus is no longer a supporting role – if she ever truly was. She is a professional performer in her own right, with her own training needs, expectations, and public-facing responsibilities. Treating her as an accessory rather than a peer limits the craft and diminishes what families actually experience.
Beyond Mrs. Claus, Christmas-adjacent performers now occupy a meaningful and permanent place in the ecosystem. Grinches, elves, Jack Frost, fairies, and other seasonal characters are no longer occasional novelties. They shape expectations, narratives, and how children understand the season.
If these roles are now central to how families experience Christmas, how should a professional organization such as IBRBS define legitimacy, education, and respect across those roles – and who decides?
Our current structures still largely assume a narrower, older model of the craft. That mismatch creates friction, confusion, and over time – disengagement.
A Globalized Christmas
Perhaps the most underestimated shift is this:
Christmas is now global in a way it has never been before.
Traditions that were once regional – European Father Christmas customs, Nordic folklore, Victorian imagery, modern international interpretations – now circulate instantly online. Families arrive informed. Children ask detailed questions. Sometimes they even use their devices to fact-check us during a visit!
That changes what preparation looks like.
While Santa Claus has largely been a United States concept (and loosely separated by an ocean from St. Nicholas, Father Christmas, Ded Moroz, and others), North American Santas can no longer rely on a single cultural script relevant to the United States only. Responsible portrayal now requires broader historical awareness, deeper understanding of global traditions, and the ability to navigate a richer, more complex Christmas story without breaking the magic.
When children arrive with global context and instant access to information, what does “prepared” actually mean – and is our shared educational framework keeping pace with that reality?
This isn’t a burden.
It’s an opportunity – but only if education is treated as a living, evolving responsibility rather than a box to be checked once.
Structural Strain, Division, and Disengagement
When organizational structures don’t keep pace with reality, strain shows up in predictable ways.
Standards become unclear.
Training pathways fragment.
Experienced performers disengage quietly.
But it also shows up in more corrosive forms: division and fracture.
We’ve seen communities split over questions that should never have hardened into fault lines – real beard versus designer beard, who belongs and who doesn’t, who is considered “legitimate.” When organizations lack clear, inclusive standards rooted in professionalism rather than appearance, those debates often don’t resolve themselves. They calcify.
People leave. Some loudly.
Many quietly.
We’ve also seen capable, motivated IBRBS members step forward to volunteer – only to step away again within weeks or months. When that happens repeatedly, the question isn’t why they left.
The actual question is: “What was it about the experience of engagement that was so difficult that leaving felt easier than staying?“
Parallel organizations and regional groups typically don’t emerge because people want division. They emerge because needs go unmet and tensions go unresolved. Silence, in those moments, is often mistaken for peace.
It isn’t.
When thoughtful people stop offering feedback, stop volunteering, or stop engaging because the cost feels too high, organizations lose the very voices they need most to adapt.
Responsibility, Not Complaints
None of this is about blame.
And it isn’t about tearing anything down.
It is about responsibility.
Organizations may drift into their next chapter by accident, but if so, they rarely end up where they intend. Someone has to be willing to name what has changed, acknowledge where structures no longer match reality, and take responsibility for guiding that transition carefully and with integrity.
In volunteer organizations like ours, transparency isn’t just about trust – it can be a safeguard that protects both leadership and membership as the organization grows and changes.
As the calendar turns into a new year – with all the uncertainty and possibility that 2026 will bring – I believe it’s time for honest, grown-up conversations about the future: about technology, education, professionalism, inclusion, and what it really means for membership to matter in a rapidly changing world.
IBRBS has an opportunity to evolve in a way that strengthens the craft rather than fragments it.
That kind of evolution doesn’t happen through silence or avoidance.
It happens when people are willing to step forward, take responsibility, and do the unglamorous work of stewardship.
This reflection is offered simply as one working Santa’s perspective on a craft that is changing in real time. It is not written from a position of institutional authority, nor as a prescription or proposal, but from lived experience – conversations with families, fellow performers, photographers, and venues navigating the realities of modern Christmas work.
My hope is that thoughtful, respectful conversation continues – not to assign blame or rush to solutions, but to better understand the pressures we’re all feeling, and how we steward something that matters deeply to so many people.
— Craig
Craig Hamilton is a professional Christmas performer and the creative mind behind Santa Craig Cringle. He writes about Claus professionalism, sustainability, and the evolving craft of Christmas and holiday portrayal.
Note (added January 15, 2026):
This post was written as an analysis of organizational structure and long-term stewardship, and was published prior to the Board’s approval and release of the official IBRBS candidate list for the 2026 election.
