Dine and Debate: Has Christmas been appropriated?

This discussion comes from our Dine and Debate series, where we bring our team together to eat, talk, and debate the cultural questions impacting society and inclusion today. The latest topic we put on the table was a pressing one, particularly as we step into Q4 and the inevitable countdown begins: Has Christmas been appropriated?

Before we begin, let’s re-establish what we mean by appropriation. Cultural appropriation usually means adopting elements from a culture outside your own, shaped by social and historical power dynamics; who gets to engage with it, how they’re perceived for doing so, and whether its roots are acknowledged.

Now, some of you might already be thinking this topic sounds a bit snowflake-y. But we know how quickly arguments about celebrating religious festivals can escalate.

Take Norwood Primary School in Eastleigh, Hampshire, earlier this year. Around Easter, they announced they were dropping their traditional bonnet parade and church service. The headteacher explained in a letter to parents that this was “in the spirit of inclusivity and respect for the diverse religious beliefs” in the school community.

Within days, Easter was the number one trending topic on X. A protest was in the works. And Suella Braverman had weighed in, calling it “cultural surrender,” claiming Britain’s Christian roots were being “erased by spineless leaders.”

The school later clarified they weren’t cancelling Easter, the kids would still do activities, learn about it in RE, and likely eat plenty of Mini Eggs (we may have added that last one). They just wouldn’t be going to church, as they’re a secular school and wanted everyone to feel included. But by that point, context had largely become unimportant as the internet had already turned it into a national crisis.

That’s where our conversation began, as this discourse over the shifting of Christian traditions is happening against the backdrop of a marked decline in people identifying as Christian in England and Wales, down sharply between the 2011 and 2021 censuses.

Which brings us to the next big celebration in the Christian calendar, Christmas. For some, it remains the sacred commemoration of Christ’s birth. For others, it’s a mash-up of fairy lights, corporate jingles, and a bearded man who somehow went from 4th-century Turkish bishop to Coca-Cola brand ambassador.

In our work, we help organisations connect with minority communities, shaping how they recognise and celebrate festivals like Ramadan and Diwali with inclusion at the core. So if we apply that same lens to Christmas, what do we see? Has it been appropriated?

What We Heard in the Debate

One of the first questions raised was whether Christmas can even be “appropriated” in the first place, given the dominant role of Christianity in British history. For many second- and third-generation immigrants in the UK, it’s impossible to ignore how Christianity spread through colonialism and missionary work. That legacy makes Christmas, as an extension of Christianity, deeply tied to power dynamics. In that sense, it’s difficult to argue that the Christian holiday itself has been “taken over” by another group, when it has long been the dominant cultural force.

What became clearer in our discussion, however, was that the explicitly Christian elements of Christmas no longer sit at the heart of how it is celebrated in the UK. Increasingly, the holiday has been redefined in secular terms. You see this in the replacement of religious symbols in Christmas lights with neutral designs, or in the shift from “Merry Christmas” to the more generic “Happy Holidays.” These changes may seem small, but they’ve been seized upon by some commentators as proof of Christianity being “erased” from public life.

Yet this sense of “erasure” was also challenged around the table. We reasoned that most people in Britain aren’t genuinely upset about being wished “Happy Christmas,” nor do they take serious offence at alternatives like “Happy Holidays.” At most, they might roll their eyes at what feels like unnecessary semantics, or at those who use the choice of wording as a way of spotlighting racial or cultural differences. (We admitted this was our interpretation rather than definitive proof.)

What seemed much clearer, however, is where the loudest outrage originates. It tends to come from those who view inclusivity as part of a broader agenda that has “gone too far.” Conservative voices, in particular, have been quick to spin minor linguistic shifts into evidence of exclusion or cultural loss. In reality, for us, these changes are better understood as small attempts to broaden participation in a society that is becoming steadily more secular, pluralistic, and reflective of multiple identities.

We also explored this sense of exclusion and connected it to a broader feeling of cultural loss. Some Britons, particularly white Britons as of recently, have expressed a sense of being “left behind” as the country grows more secular and diverse. That sentiment is evident in rising xenophobia, anti-immigration rhetoric, public protests, and even rows such as the recent St George’s flag-raising debate.

It has even surfaced already around Christmas. In 2020, for example, a supermarket advert featuring a Black family celebrating Christmas prompted a wave of racist backlash: “You may as well rename yourself Blackbury’s,” “Where are the British people?” and “You’ve managed to alienate the few remaining White customers you still had completely.” That episode is telling, not only for the racism on display, but for what it reveals about who is more readily recognised as “British,” and which identities are treated as outsiders.

However, this example is used here to illustrate a broader point: in today’s climate, shifting approaches to Christmas easily become symbols of deeper anxieties. Changes to how the holiday is marked, whether in schools, shopping centres, or on TV, can feel, to some, like their culture is being chipped away. Yet, as our discussion highlighted, much of this concern is less about Christmas itself and more about how political narratives frame it.

Secularisation and Commercialisation: Who’s Really Appropriating Christmas?

Building on the discussion of erasure and cultural anxiety, our conversation turned to how secularisation and commercialisation have reshaped Christmas. In other Christian-majority countries, such as Slovakia, religious traditions remain central to the holiday. In the UK, however, Christmas today feels far less about the birth of Christ and more about community gatherings, time off work, and consumer culture.

Why is that? At first, we wondered whether it was simply a matter of the UK letting go of its Christian roots, with traditions losing relevance as the country became more secular. But we also questioned whether it was fair to place the responsibility for preserving the holiday solely on individuals. Instead, we considered the broader systemic forces at play. Around the table, there was broad agreement: capitalism has been the biggest driver of Christmas’ transformation, reshaping it into a season of themed products, retail deals, and consumer rituals. The holiday draws on familiar religious markers, but they are recast as a secular marketing campaign designed to appeal across faiths.

This raised a critical question in the appropriation debate: does Christmas still serve Christians in the UK? In our work with businesses, we often collaborate to ensure that minority festivals like Diwali or Ramadan are represented authentically in advertising or product ranges, because these communities are historically underrepresented. Christmas, by contrast, is treated as a “universal” celebration, with traditions far less carefully preserved. Instead, it is framed around appealing to as many people as possible. That universality creates its own tension: if the holiday is positioned as belonging to everyone, does it still hold meaning for those who see it as sacred? Or has its openness been deliberately designed to allow corporations to appropriate it as a blank canvas for sales?

Representation in advertising further highlights this tension. A decade ago, Tesco ran a Christmas ad featuring a group of women wearing hijabs exchanging gifts. On one level, it reflected the reality that many Muslims in the UK (assuming the hijab was used as a visual cue to represent Muslim families) do celebrate Christmas in some form, given its cultural significance as a holiday now considered “for everyone.” But it also raised a key question: was this a genuine gesture of inclusivity, or a tokenistic move? Did it truly serve the communities being represented, acknowledging their experiences without inviting unwelcome attention or scrutiny, or was it primarily designed to advance the brand’s commercial interests? We felt the answer lay somewhere in between. Yet, as with Ramadan and Diwali, a double standard became apparent: if a white family appeared in a Ramadan ad, it might feel out of place or inauthentic. Again, why is Christmas treated differently?

By linking this back to our earlier conversation, it became clear that secularisation and commercialisation are far from neutral forces. They actively shape who feels included and who feels erased, determining which communities see themselves reflected and which do not. A holiday that was once primarily rooted in faith has now been transformed into a cultural and commercial institution, experienced differently depending on identity, belief, and social context. These forces influence not only how Christmas is celebrated, but also who it is for.

So, Has Christmas Been Appropriated?

By the end of the discussion, we reached a consensus. 

Yes, Christmas has been appropriated, but with some unique caveats. 

Rather than a specific group of people, it has been appropriated by capitalism, which has transformed it into a commercial holiday, steadily removing it from its heritage in pursuit of profit.

Will this change your approach to Christmas campaigning?