How Christmas ads gave a shaky nation something to hold on to
Born Social's Strategy Director Maihri Gill explains how in a year defined by uncertainty and emotional fatigue, Christmas advertising didn’t try to dazzle us. Instead, it tried to steady us, offering small pockets of familiarity and comfort when the country’s foundations felt wobbly.
It really is advertising’s most wonderful time of the year. Every December, the swathe of festive spots offers more than entertainment - they act as a cultural temperature check, holding a mirror up to the nation’s collective mood and revealing all manner of reflections.
The work reveals a simple truth: we weren’t looking for spectacle this year. We were looking for stability.
While brands fight it out for their slice of the Christmas pudding, what struck me wasn’t how brands competed for attention, but how they attempted to find connection in a moment where so many of us feel stretched thin.
This year, brands attempted to find connection with consumers in a moment where so many of us feel stretched thin.
For the online generation, the current political climate feels more unstable than it has in decades. The horrors unfolding daily on our screens have made us all hyper-aware of division at every level, and increasingly determined to avoid conflict where we can. Reuters reports that 79% of smartphone users now have their news notifications off, and since 2022, the ‘not interested’ button has erased entire news lines from our feed.
Against this backdrop, it’s no surprise this year’s Christmas ads feel notably softened. We’ve landed somewhere much safer, with a far more cushiony landing should the court of public opinion turn.
Stories rooted in home, family and familiarity are a consistent trend, but this year, external pressures reshaped how they show up.
I often think back to the list of ‘banned insights’ that floats around LinkedIn and agency walls. At the top: “the world is more divided than ever”. It’s where most brands seem to have started this year, and perhaps for good reason. In a period already so fraught with tension, brands chose not to provoke, but to pacify.
Don’t get me wrong, Christmas is for comfort, but the forces shaping this year’s festive storytelling feel more intense. When the political pendulum swings, brands swoop in and attempt to quickly clean up the mess, hoping to be remembered for doing so on the Christmas shop.
The horrors on our screens have made us all hyper-aware of division, and increasingly determined to avoid conflict where we can.
Economic pressure, too, is at a tipping point, with spending plans being reined in across all age groups and income brackets. According to Amnesty International, a staggering 67% of Britons say they are worried about affording essentials this Christmas. It’s no wonder more overt value-led messaging has surged, along with noticeable emphasis on smaller, more symbolic gifts in this year’s ads. John Lewis traded spectacle - pianos, trampolines - for the quiet intimacy of gifting a vinyl, reminding us that it actually is the thought that counts. Consumers aren’t craving excess, fantasy or perfection; they’re looking to go to ground and find connection in more meaningful ways.
We’re being gently guided toward patriotism at a time when national pride is at a shocking low, chipped away by years of instability and political narratives.
Stories rooted in home, family and familiarity are a consistent trend, but this year, external pressures reshaped how they show up. Three ads stood out in the sea of sameness. For the all-hailed John Lewis spot, it felt like a very deliberate choice to centre the story around a father and son, in a year where Adolescence (the documentary) hooked the world and shone a necessary light on dangerous societal fractures.
John Lewis traded spectacle - pianos, trampolines - for the quiet intimacy of gifting a vinyl, reminding us that it actually is the thought that counts.
On the flip side, JD Sports gifted us with a far more forward-facing portrait of British youth, handing creative control to their audience and giving us a tapestry of raw, camera-roll realism. Tesco also notably stepped away from the warm glow of the perfect Christmas table, instead showing the chaos we all know and love when family get together - a quiet but clear statement that whatever pressure you’re feeling this year, we see you, and Christmas doesn’t have to be perfect to be good.
In uncertainty, people look back at ‘better times’.
We’ve talked for years about nostalgia as escapism, and it’s once again become a cultural stabiliser. In uncertainty, people look back at ‘better times’. Burberry built a social-first world steeped in sickly-sweet Britishness, while comfort characters long entwined with British culture made a strong return: Keira Knightley, Martine McCutcheon and Thomas Brodie-Sangster revisiting their Love Actually roles for Waitrose and Google Pixel, the BFG for Sainsbury's, and Wallace & Gromit dreaming up the Gift-O-Matic for Barbour.
This year, Barbour leant into the nostalgic world of the nation's favourite stop-motion duo, Wallace and Gromit.
We’re being gently guided toward patriotism at a time when national pride is at a shocking low, chipped away by years of instability and political narratives. The work reveals a simple truth: we weren’t looking for spectacle this year. We were looking for stability.
For now, though, brands did what the moment required. They read the room. They offered reassurance.
And that poses an interesting question for the industry. If 2025’s Christmas ads acted as emotional seatbelts, then 2026 may ask for something different. Once the dust settles, people often swing back toward boldness - ideas that surprise, stretch and play in more unexpected territory. When audiences feel safer, creativity can take more risks again.
For now, though, brands did what the moment required. They read the room. They offered reassurance. They chose familiarity over fireworks. And while that may not produce the most groundbreaking work, perhaps this was the year we needed more solid ground.