Perhaps, whether he was aware of it or not, somewhere in the back of George Orwell’s mind, he was definitely borrowing from J. Fred Coots (try not to make the automatic leap to “cooter” with a last name like that) and Haven Gillespie’s lyrics for “Santa Claus Is Comin’ to Town” (or, depending on your level of properness, “…Coming to Town”) when he created the concept of Big Brother.
Oh sure, the wartime government itself was a major inspiration (with many speculating that Britain’s “Minister of Information” at the time, Brendan Bracken, was a large influence on the “character” that is Big Brother). But there seems to be plenty of (red, green and white) shades of Santa in there, too. Whoever the “definitive” template was, it’s no matter. Because whether or not Big Brother was a “real” man, his very real synecdoche purpose is to serve as a representation of the Party (a.k.a. “Ingsoc”) at large. The Party that believes the “proles,” as they’re called, are too daft and complacent to think or make decisions for themselves (hmm, sounds familiar). Sadly, the Party isn’t wrong. Otherwise, how would it have managed to come this far in the total subjugation of the people of Oceania?
In any case, “Santa Claus Is Comin’ to Town” was written in 1934, seven years before the U.S. (officially) entered WWII in 1941 and fifteen years before Orwell’s most recognized work was released in 1949. Despite not yet being part of “the war effort,” the U.S. was dealing with its own ongoing war…against poverty (frankly, the war it’s always “dealing with”—and losing. Mainly because it refuses to lose capitalism). For it was still the height of the Great Depression. And yet, that didn’t stop people from emptying out what little was in their pockets to buy the record and sheet music of the song.
The spike in sales was thanks to Eddie Cantor, a well-known entertainer of the day, singing a version of the spirited ditty on his radio program in November of 1934. So it was that “Santa Claus Is Comin’ to Town” entered the yearly cultural lexicon for good. Indeed, no one appeared to be at all unsettled by such stalker-y and voyeuristic language as, “He’s making a list/He’s checking it twice/He’s going to find out/Who’s naughty and nice,” was sung with such quintessential gaiety of the era (the Andrews Sisters being the pinnacle of said gaiety—and yes, they recorded a rendition of it).
And with the advent of the kind of technology that even Orwell, in all his “worst-case scenario” wisdom, couldn’t have predicted, it’s never been easier for Santa to figure out who qualifies as “naughty” and “nice”—even though the definitions seem to have reversed in the last few centuries, with far more rewards given to those who are naughty (e.g., a certain Orange creature). In point of fact, er, Coots and Gillespie essentially laid out the blueprint for the notion of a Big Brother-sanctioned hidden camera a.k.a. nanny cam with the additional lyrics, “He sees you when you’re sleeping/He knows when you’re awake/He knows when you’ve been bad or good/So be good for goodness sake.” After all, the best way to convince someone to be “good” (though, more likely, insane) is by making them hyper-aware that they’re being watched all the time.
Of course, just because someone knows a camera or CCTV is watching them, it doesn’t necessarily mean they’re going to be deterred from whatever “nefarious” machinations they have in mind. Take, for example, Santa himself daring to break and enter into someone’s home via the chimney on Christmas Eve (and who knows what other times during the year). And yet he has the audacity to instill a fear of “Santa” within the masses. Particularly the more impressionable ones (i.e., the children). Chalk it up to the benefits of white male privilege that Santa is able to get away with what would be called a crime were it committed by anyone else (save for Luigi Mangione).
But just as one might ask who, really, is Big Brother—other than a symbol, a tool, a piece of propaganda centered on the “cult of personality”—one could ask the very same of Santa. His sole purpose being to ensure that people not only 1) “believe” in him, but 2) “act right” because of that belief. Which is exactly how it is with any authoritarian regime à la the one presented in 1984. As such, one might argue that Santa is himself the very symbol—the very embodiment—of the capitalist regime. Rendered as a “jolly” and “jovial” figure with a more than slightly sinister big underbelly keeping its wheels turning with promises of lavish toys for everyone who behaves like a “good” boy and girl.
Alas, “good,” in capitalism’s world, means totally ignoring the gross and degrading forms of exploitation involved. Mainly for those who make the least money out of it. Funnily enough, however, 1984 was a cautionary novel (though it is now jokingly said that people [a.k.a. government officials] are using it as a “how-to manual” rather than sidestepping all of the horrendous dystopian behavior presented in it) against communism. Which, by Republican logic, must automatically mean that it is instead a champion of capitalism.
And so, proponents of Santa and his capitalist agenda notify any potential “pinkos,” “You better watch out/You better not cry/You better not pout/I’m telling you why/Santa Claus is comin’ to town.” Might as well change it to “Big Brother is comin’ to town” at this point in our late capitalist history. In any event, the Santa envisioned by Coots and Gillespie hardly comes across as someone who’s very “cheery” or giving. No, instead, he sounds like a fucking psycho who is perfectly suited to the category of “great” dictator (an oxymoron, to be sure). Someone who will remember every perceived slight and betrayal, lying in wait to use that against his “enemies” later (yes, it sounds a lot like the abovementioned Orange creature’s modus operandi).
Or, as Orwell wrote in 1984, “Always eyes watching you and the voice enveloping you. Asleep or awake, indoors or out of doors, in the bath or bed—no escape. Nothing was your own except the few cubic centimeters in your skull.” If one didn’t know any better, it could be said that this material was “plagiarized” from the softer, gentler version of that statement vis-à-vis Santa Claus in “Santa Claus Is Comin’ to Town.”