The glitz and glow of the Christmas period, from gently twinkling lights to the fireworks of New Year, is something we look forward to every year.

Yet through the years, the season seems to have lost a little of its magic. Things sparkle a little less than they once did. Is it just nostalgia to think so? Everything looks more impressive as a ten-year-old, after all.

That our Christmas loses a little sparkle is a small price to pay in the corporate central planners’ march towards a ‘circular economy’

But the now annual denunciations of Quality Street suggest otherwise. For those unaware, in 2022 Quality Street abandoned its shiny crinkle wrappers in favour of low-grade matt paper. The wrappers these days look more like eco toilet roll packaging than delicious Christmas treats.

It’s not just chocolates which are no longer the same. Low energy LED fairy lights lack the warm glow of the lights we grew up with. Many Christmas crackers have lost their crack, for the sake of the environment, naturally. And God forbid you want to roast chestnuts on an open fire and have to navigate the tightening regulatory noose around the hearth.

Why is this happening?

It is certainly not due to consumer demand. One lifelong Quality Street consumer spoke for many when the downgrade first happened three years ago, saying: ‘This is a travesty I will never… purchase this product ever again.’

The culprit is ESG (Environmental, Social, and Governance), sustainable investing, stakeholder capitalism, or whatever your preferred synonym is for the phenomenon of large corporates prioritising everything but the consumer and the shareholder.

Quality Street, along with over 2000 other brands, is owned by Nestle, a zealous advocate of ESG.  They believe they will only be successful if they ‘create value for all stakeholders.’ Neither the consumer, nor the shareholder seem to be the priority.

Hence, by making the Christmas season that little bit worse, Nestle is able to celebrate achieving a 21.3 per cent plastic reduction in their products. Everything else is collateral. That our Christmas loses a little sparkle is a small price to pay in the corporate central planners’ march towards a ‘circular economy’.

Unsurprisingly, shareholders don’t like being second (or third) place and recognise that happy customers are the path to profitability. Nestle’s share price has fallen for three consecutive years, and now sits 40 per cent below its peak.

We should not blame Nestle alone. No doubt they have true believers in their ranks, but they are taking their orders from the largest asset managers in the world. In 2018, the year Nestle adopted their plastic reduction plan, they received a letter from the CEO of Blackrock, one of their largest investors. It instructed them to go beyond the pursuit of profit and rather to seek to serve a broader social purpose, addressing broader societal challenges. Nestle, and thousands of others who received that letter, could hardly say no.

Yes, we should care about the planet, but just 0.5 per cent of global plastic ends up in the ocean, mostly driven by developing nations with no functioning waste management system. Plastic is not inherently bad, we can make pleasant, practical, and durable things from it. ESG diktats do not matter to those issuing them, who have the wealth to buy high end alternatives. But for most people, every product downgraded is a touch of wonder lost.

The rise of the cold hard glow of LED Christmas lights has also been driven by ESG advocates. The company that has championed no-crack crackers is working towards a ‘sustainable future’. And new sustainability regulations, advocated for by the ESG lobby, will effectively outlaw open fireplaces in new homes.

There is a Japanese management theory called kaizen; it calls for continuous, incremental improvement. You don’t notice changes day to day, but eventually you realise that the aggregate improvement is undeniable. ESG is the inverse of this. Things get worse little by little, each change being hard to identify and easily justified in alleged pursuit of a sustainable future. A paper straw here, a lidless tub of yogurt there. Eventually we realise our lives, and our Christmas season, have become less pleasant, more difficult and ever more expensive, all for little to no net benefit.

Still, no matter how bright or dull the Christmas magic gets, thankfully, it isn’t about things which sparkle. It is about family, friends, and the story of a child in an unglamourous stable.