We know Santa Claus is real - the adverts tell us so
'Santa isn't real." There it was, in white lettering on an orange background on a prominent site on Witkoppen Road, Johannesburg.
It was brutal. Up to 1780 shopping malls and more than a million square metres of retail space across South Africa depend on Santa's ability to be the gift who keeps on giving every year. Was this a case of capitalism biting the invisible hand that feeds it?
Not since the days of Lolly Jackson and his terrible Teazer's puns had an ad launched so many awkward conversations between parents and the kids sitting in the back of the SUV. No surprise, then, that there were complaints to the Advertising Standards Authority who, bunch of Steves that they are, ordered that the billboard be taken down.
The advertiser, Comedy Central, issued a predictably contrite press release. "We know how important Santa is to kids and adults," said the head of the channel. "The message on our billboard was a joke that was not intended to spoil Christmas for anyone. We apologise wholeheartedly."
I don't buy that explanation for a second, but I loved the chutzpah. Christmas is usually a time when South African advertisers play it safe, and it was good to have something else to talk about at the office besides the R2-million decanter of Royal Salute in this year's Makro liquor catalogue.
My favourite South African Christmas ad of all time is the Nando's "Last Dictator Standing" campaign from 2011, which combined satire with flame-grilled chicken in a way that made perfect sense for both, but in 2014, nobody would touch politics in case the resulting ad touched someone on their studio. No marketer in his or her right mind wants that.
Animals were popular. Checkers put a Santa Claus hat on its Inflation Bulldog, which tried to steal a bone from the consumer budget, portrayed by a horrible little Chihuahua that probably deserved it. Bella the Yuppiechef Puppychef donned reindeer antlers and looked so cute that I watched the ad all the way through, three times, without clicking "skip ad" - a compelling testament to the value of an ad as entertainment. Even ratcontrol specialist Rentokil got into the festive spirit with a pest advent calendar Facebook competition.
Catalogues, the bread and butter of Christmas Past, heaved at the staples with Ninja Turtles, male grooming kits and Yardley gift sets, suggesting that nothing much has changed since 1989. At the same time, PicknPay dressed up its online shopping delivery tuk-tuks as reindeer and invited members of the public to take photos, share them with #SantasRide and win prizes. Uber teamed up with Kalahari.com to bring shoppers a "Christmas Sleigh" of its top-selling gifts. It is, we could say, the hint of Christmas Future.
This is interesting for me as a consumer and a shopper, but not, funnily enough, for my line of work. Christmas might be important for sales targets, but it's a terrible time to advertise unless you're a retailer - in which case, you can't afford not to advertise.
This was something I learnt soon after I started in the ad industry some 14 years ago. The festive season desert lasts from mid-November until early January, when media slots are booked long in advance and most shoppers are slack-jawed zombies trailing wide-eyed through malls. Even social media goes quiet. We post to Facebook and Twitter, knowing that engagement levels and organic reach will plummet because people have better things to do, such as yelling at the kids for fighting over the Xbox and drinking too much rosé at the local Spur.
Last year was especially challenging. The death of Nelson Mandela prompted advertisers to pause their campaigns as an entirely appropriate sign of respect. This year, retailers and broadcasters have been hit by power cuts. It's a disaster all round: nobody can see your ads, and nobody can get into the shops to buy. A couple of weeks ago, I bought wine in Checkers by the light of my iPhone screen. There was no light in the store, but the tills still worked (thank goodness Whitey Basson has his priorities straight). The impact of load-shedding on consumer spending will probably become clearer early next year, but it's a reminder of the usefulness of off-grid advertising technology such as radio in your car, or print. An ad that can't reach you because your cellphone battery has died can't do the job.
One aspect of a South African Christmas that has changed little over the years is the tension between the winter traditions of snowmen and sleigh bells, and the stokvels and seven colours on the plate that characterise the local experience. A week ago, a stock photography provider put out a press release announcing that it offered photos of a real South African Christmas. "When it comes to stock imagery and footage for the festive season," said the MD, "there's no need to be constrained by cheesy stereotypes that in no way resonate with what South Africans are actually doing at this time of year."
South African retailers are doing interesting things in niche areas, although our Christmas campaigns are still very product- and price-focused. If there are leaders in the world of festive advertising, it is that nation of shopkeepers, the land of Dickens, Scrooge and Tiny Tim. The US might boast the Super Bowl, but the UK has evolved Christmas campaigns that are major cultural events - and it's all thanks to social media.
Television channels pitch for the right to be the first to broadcast the ads. This year, Channel 4 persuaded John Lewis it would do the best job of generating buzz. The exposure on broadcast media is only part of a campaign involving teasers, merchandise tie-ins and online conversation, with one hashtag to bind them all.
The impact on sales is apparently significant enough to justify the hype. Last year's John Lewis #BearandHare campaign saw a 1.6% increase in sales at stores and a 23% increase in online shopping. This year's #MontythePenguin ad told the heart-warming story of a boy who gets the ultimate Christmas gift: a companion for his adorable computer-generated penguin friend (who turns out to be a grubby stuffed toy). Twenty-four hours after the ad first flighted, Monty and Mabel, the toy penguins featured in it, sold out.
Monty doesn't have it all his own way. He's going over the top in a desperate battle for page views with the British and German soldiers of World War 1, who feature in a Sainsbury's campaign that pays tribute to the fabled Christmas Eve in 1914 when the war was temporarily halted. The three-minute ad features a vintage slab of chocolate, a replica of which can be purchased in the store; a portion of sales goes to the British Legion. (Critics have slammed Sainsbury's for using death and suffering to sell glazed hams, but all's fair in cupboard love and war.)
At about £1-million (about R18-million) to produce a campaign like this and another £7-million to promote it, UK retailers have the kind of budgets that we in this neck of the woods can only dream of. But everyone in this business, no matter where, knows this fundamental truth: of course Santa is real. If we didn't have him, we'd have to invent him.
Britten is a social media strategist based in Johannesburg