Corporate Greed vs. Seasonal Change
Kelsey Thiessen
When the seasons change, the earth tells us so. Humans have been a part of this equinoctial and solstitial dialogue with Mother Nature for over 300,000 years. She communicates the arrival of autumn through the colour of the leaves and morning chills, and we’ve acknowledged her with pumpkins on our doorsteps. When winter arrives, her whispers create crisp air and snow, and so we’ve put up our Christmas trees, Menorahs, Kinaras and Yule Logs. In Spring, she treats us with puddles, buds on branches, the return of our birds, and we’ve harmonized with botanical wreaths. In Summer, she warms us, invites us outdoors, and we’ve celebrated with bowls of fresh fruit. So, my question to you is this: why have we allowed corporate interest to interrogate Mother Nature; to place hot coals beneath her feet, and leach her body of resources for cheap holiday decor long before her flowers have even bloomed?
Somewhere along the way, we allowed corporate quarterly targets to drown out not only the voice and guidance of Mother Nature, but the genuine joy of our traditions — the natural feel of family gatherings, celebrations with friends and the humanity and community that is formed when we craft our own seasonal sentiments and experiences. Our already short lives are being rushed by retail calendars that are forcing plastic pumpkins onto shelves in July and entire aisles of Christmas decor before October. We have been misled to accept the commercialization of the very feelings that nature gives us for free. We are living under an illusion of purchasable connection and happiness.
It’s naive to think that these corporations are celebrating with us, fostering a spirit-filled environment, and have our best interests in mind — especially when the National Retail Federation valued the 2025 Halloween industry at $11.6 billion and an estimated $1.01 trillion for the 2025 Christmas season. These numbers are a huge win for CEOs, but what do these numbers mean for us? What do they mean for Mother Nature? Corporations are manipulating us, plundering our earth, and destroying our ability to truly embrace the natural beauty of change. Making us believe that the tap of a credit card is the sacred ritual of seasonal shifts, but when was the last time you connected with the crunch of the leaves beneath your feet? When was the last time you built a snowman?
I urge you to think about our landfills; to think about purchasing a tree made of plastic just to throw it away a year or two later. The idea that every fall, Halloween, Christmas, or Easter decoration that has ever been on a dollar store, Walmart or Amazon shelf is still here on earth with us, taking up space in our oceans, inside the bodies of our wildlife, or even ourselves.
Each year, these shelves are replenished earlier and earlier, and yet, every December, my mother fills our living room with dusty boxes that show their age. These boxes are filled with treasures from both my parents’ lives and my own — ornaments gifted from loved ones, decorations passed down from generations, the angel on the top of the tree (that still lights up) that was given to them on the day of their wedding nearly 40 years ago. Each box, each sentimental piece smells like Christmas, like home — not chemicals. My mother remembers the story of every single item as we fill our home with past memories and create new ones.
I acknowledge that not everyone has this nostalgic box of tradition, but I also acknowledge that our human holidays and traditions are not created via factory, cheap labour, and quarterly margins. They are created by we, the people. We, the community, are the creators of meaning when it comes to our traditions. Our lives have been corporatized enough. We need handmade, we need recycled, we need reused. We need to experience the seasons as they are, not as they are sold. This is how we create stories to pass down and how we bring back the spark of the seasons. This is how we reignite our relatio
