Stewardship, Standards, & the Future of the Craft
The IBRBS Board is the elected leadership body that guides the organization in support of its mission and tenets – which include upholding the spirit of Christmas, fostering goodwill, promoting a positive public image, and encouraging charitable participation.
All good and wonderful, important foundational principles – still relevant now, and especially relevant in the time those tenets were first conceived.
Today I want to explain why I’m running for the IBRBS Board, and what I think an expanded role of IBRBS should be now and in the rapidly approaching future.
I’m running because I think this work deserves a level of care, structure, and stewardship that goes beyond what any one of us can provide individually – and because I think this organization’s potential is as high as we choose to make it.
Claus work isn’t just seasonal entertainment. Families trust us with emotionally meaningful moments. They trust the symbol. They trust what it represents. That level of trust deserves preparation, ethical grounding, and thoughtful support – not just good intentions.
Right now, there’s a mismatch between how meaningful this work is and how lightly it is sometimes perceived at an organizational level.
That doesn’t show up in people’s hearts – most people here care deeply. It shows up in systems.
It shows up in how hard it is to see what the organization stands for publicly.
In how unclear pathways for growth and development can feel.
In how little the public understands about preparation, ethics, or professionalism within our craft.
In how invisible good work often is, and how visible poor signals – that is, visible markers of quality and seriousness – can be.
That mismatch doesn’t make anyone bad. But it does make the whole ecosystem weaker than it should be.
I don’t want that – and I don’t believe any of us want that.
That’s the present.
The future presents challenges and opportunities as well.
It’s tempting to assume that technology won’t meaningfully affect this work – that families will always choose a live Santa or Mrs. Claus, that the human element will protect us from disruption. I understand that instinct. I even share the hope inside it.
But hope is not a strategy.
Technology already shapes how clients find us, how our images are used, how our voices are replicated, how trust is built or broken online, and how the public understands what we do.
Every job where a realistic AI Santa, Mrs. Claus, or other Christmas character is used is a job that might otherwise have gone to a real human presence.
We won’t win all of them. But if we care about staying culturally relevant, we need strategy and guidance on how to compete for the ones we can – even if that means learning how to use AI ethically ourselves.
It’s not just about images and video.
AI can help with scheduling, communication, accessibility, translation, training, role-playing, research, and back-office work – freeing Clauses to spend more time on what only humans can do: showing up, connecting, and carrying the magic well.
I don’t know exactly what that guidance looks like yet. But I do know the organization should be on the front edge of building it – or bringing it in – instead of reacting after the fact.
When the world shut down in 2020, story after story has been told about how this community didn’t freeze. It adapted. It learned new tools. It showed families what was possible. It led.
That posture – calm, creative leadership and innovation instead of denial or panic – is what I believe is needed again.
The same is true with education.
Everyone agrees education matters. That’s not the question.
The question is whether we treat education as a list of classes – or as infrastructure.
Infrastructure. What a word.
For me, that means:
Pathways, not just sessions.
Progression, not just exposure.
Signals, not just content.
Perhaps even formal accreditation through recognized higher-education institutions – not to control the craft, but to help the world recognize it as one.
I’ve heard over and over that accreditation can’t be done – but I’ve never actually heard the story of it being tried in a serious, formal way. And if it has been tried and failed, don’t we owe it to future generations to understand why, and to try again with better tools and clearer intent?
That wouldn’t replace the educators who already carry this knowledge. It would finally give them institutional partnership, protection for their work, and a larger platform to shape the future of the craft.
Not to create sameness – but to create floors, not ceilings.
Minimum ethical standards that protect families.
Minimum preparation standards that protect the craft.
Minimum professional signals that protect those doing the work.
Above that floor, there should be enormous room for individuality, creativity, style, culture, and innovation. The goal is not conformity. The goal is coherence.
Right now, today, knowledge is scattered. Signals are weak. Progression is unclear. And the result is that professionalism becomes hard to see – both inside the community and from the outside.
That hurts those carrying the role.
It confuses families and clients.
It erodes belief.
And it slowly thins the meaning of the work.
I want to help build an organization that functions less like a loose affiliation and more like a professional organization and Steward.
A Steward of knowledge.
A Steward of ethics.
A Steward of standards – not to control people, but to protect what matters.
That also means transparency.
Not just good intentions, but visible processes.
Published rules.
Clear elections and election results.
Accessible minutes.
Understandable decisions.
Honest communication about why things are done the way they are.
And honest restraint and professionalism to know when correction and instruction should be private rather than public. And to give room and space to operate for the actual current leaders without inappropriate or outsized influence of former unelected leaders.
Not everything belongs in public – but the rules, processes, and responsibilities should never be hidden.
Trust grows in sunlight.
I’m running because I don’t want to complain about this from the sidelines.
I’m running because I think the organization is capable of being more than it currently asks of itself.
And I’m running because I’d rather help build something steady, thoughtful, and future-ready than watch this work slowly become thinner, louder, and less grounded over time.
As Stewardship.
And leaving our craft better than we found it.
Let’s lift our gaze a little higher – and go for it.
One last thing.
This post is about a Board, an organization, and a specific election – but the work itself is bigger than any of that.
It belongs to everyone who carries Christmas into the world.
That includes Mrs. Clauses who do far more than “support” Santa, and often carry the emotional weight of a visit themselves.
It includes Grinches, elves, Easter Bunnies, Sugarplum Fairies, Jack Frosts, and all the other legendary characters who help families experience wonder in different ways.
And it includes Clauses who are not members of IBRBS – whether because they’re new, independent by choice, or skeptical of institutions for good reasons.
If you’re in one of those groups, I want you to hear this clearly:
This isn’t about creating an inside and an outside.
It’s about trying to build something worthy of trust, worthy of participation, and worthy of the work so many of you already do quietly and well.
You don’t have to agree with me.
You don’t have to vote for me.
You don’t even have to join anything.
But I hope you’ll stay in conversation.
Because the future of this craft doesn’t belong to a Board.
It belongs to the community.
And I care about all of it.
—Craig
Craig Hamilton is a professional Christmas performer, Christmas ambassador and the creative mind behind Santa Craig Cringle. He writes about Claus professionalism, sustainability, and the evolving craft of Christmas and holiday portrayal.
