Published: The Allentown Morning Call, 12/22/96
It's been more than a year since that perennial bastion of good cheer, Santa Claus, invited representatives from several of the country's top law firms to the North Pole, where in a marathon all-night session, the lawyers drank cocoa and devised an aggressive strategy for dealing with the variety of laws and regulations that give Santa such headaches each year.
Though experts debate whether modern-day American society is the most litigious and legally complex in history, Santa contends the debate is academic. Speaking at a recent news conference, he grew glum when discussing his mounting legal problems.
"If it's a contest among nations," Santa said, "the U.S. wins hands down."
Last year's meeting with the lawyers, dubbed the "North Pole summit" by legal experts, signaled an unprecedented shift of strategy at the North Pole.
According to Santa's spokesman, whereas Santa was once able to coast along on the goodwill generated by his own Yuletide myth, a new churlishness exhibited by the American public and its government now makes this impossible.
"These days," the spokesman said, "even Santa can't get a break. At the urging of his lawyers, he's decided to play hardball."
So far, the new strategy has been less than successful. While both the Environmental Protection Agency, which fined Santa last year because his reindeer were allegedly polluting inland waterways from the air, and the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission, which was poised to require that the job of sleigh-pulling be opened up to other four-legged creatures such as moose and muskrats, have dropped their actions, a myriad of other problems persist.
In an unusual proceeding, four Attorney Generals from states bordering Canada have banned the age-old practice of Santa's gaining entry to homes through open chimneys. Ostensibly the policy was developed over concern that Santa might be gunned down by a startled homeowner, but critics contend it is merely a stunt devised by leaders of the anti-handgun lobby.
Says Santa's spokesman, "When the formerly jolly St. Nick is being used as a political tool, you know things have gone too far."
In another unusual case, the Nuclear Regulatory Commission has alleged that Santa falls within its jurisdiction, and is subject to civil penalties and even criminal sanctions because an unlicensed, radioactive substance "must be contained within Rudolph's glowing nose."
Most sadly, however, are the lawsuits. Though Santa has traditionally been protected from legal liability by the unwillingness of American trial lawyers to challenge the Santa myth, a new breed of hard-nosed lawyers has been unable to resist the lure of Santa's deep pockets.
The floodgates were opened last year when attorneys filed a class action lawsuit on behalf of a group of disgruntled New Jersey schoolchildren. According to their petition, Santa "failed to live up to the promise of the season" and "tortuously caused plaintiffs to experience headaches, stomach cramps and vomiting when, on Dec. 25, they didn't find all they asked for beneath the Christmas tree."
A response to the lawsuit developed during the North Pole summit has apparently backfired. Acting on the recommendation of his legal counsel, Santa filed a personal action against the childrens' attorneys, alleging a variety of ethical violations. Though Santa was immediately haled by the insurance industry as a stalwart defender of corporate rights, legal experts cried foul, pointing out that "the problem of frivolous litigation will not be solved by more frivolous litigation."
In an ironic twist, Santa's wife Mrs. Claus, who was opposed to suing lawyers, acquired an action of her own when the latch on the family's minivan unexpectedly gave way. Four elves who tumbled onto the highway in the accident were tragically killed.
Upsetting a marriage that has been stable for years, Mrs. Claus hired the very lawyers who are the defendants in Santa's personal lawsuit. The lawyers then filed a class action against the minivan manufacturer, listing Mrs. Claus as the named plaintiff.
"It was a tense few days at the Claus residence," said a high-placed source. "Given his own experience, Santa is no fan of class actions, not to mention the lawyers his wife chose to represent her. He was ready to kick her out of the house. Eventually, though, he agreed with Mrs. Claus that the ability to file a lawsuit is an important right."
Or as Mrs. Claus explained recently, "It was a great loss. Only the hardest-working elves were allowed to ride in the minivan."
Meanwhile, as Santa prepares for his yearly visit to American children, he's making a heroic effort to adopt his usual mirth-loving, jolly character. "It's what people expect of me," he said recently. "And they're right. The sun shouldn't rise and set on lawyers."
"This Christmas," he said, punctuating his comments with a hearty ho-ho-ho, "let's all try to share the Yuletide spirit despite them."
It's been more than a year since that perennial bastion of good cheer, Santa Claus, invited representatives from several of the country's top law firms to the North Pole, where in a marathon all-night session, the lawyers drank cocoa and devised an aggressive strategy for dealing with the variety of laws and regulations that give Santa such headaches each year.
Though experts debate whether modern-day American society is the most litigious and legally complex in history, Santa contends the debate is academic. Speaking at a recent news conference, he grew glum when discussing his mounting legal problems.
"If it's a contest among nations," Santa said, "the U.S. wins hands down."
Last year's meeting with the lawyers, dubbed the "North Pole summit" by legal experts, signaled an unprecedented shift of strategy at the North Pole.
According to Santa's spokesman, whereas Santa was once able to coast along on the goodwill generated by his own Yuletide myth, a new churlishness exhibited by the American public and its government now makes this impossible.
"These days," the spokesman said, "even Santa can't get a break. At the urging of his lawyers, he's decided to play hardball."
So far, the new strategy has been less than successful. While both the Environmental Protection Agency, which fined Santa last year because his reindeer were allegedly polluting inland waterways from the air, and the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission, which was poised to require that the job of sleigh-pulling be opened up to other four-legged creatures such as moose and muskrats, have dropped their actions, a myriad of other problems persist.
In an unusual proceeding, four Attorney Generals from states bordering Canada have banned the age-old practice of Santa's gaining entry to homes through open chimneys. Ostensibly the policy was developed over concern that Santa might be gunned down by a startled homeowner, but critics contend it is merely a stunt devised by leaders of the anti-handgun lobby.
Says Santa's spokesman, "When the formerly jolly St. Nick is being used as a political tool, you know things have gone too far."
In another unusual case, the Nuclear Regulatory Commission has alleged that Santa falls within its jurisdiction, and is subject to civil penalties and even criminal sanctions because an unlicensed, radioactive substance "must be contained within Rudolph's glowing nose."
Most sadly, however, are the lawsuits. Though Santa has traditionally been protected from legal liability by the unwillingness of American trial lawyers to challenge the Santa myth, a new breed of hard-nosed lawyers has been unable to resist the lure of Santa's deep pockets.
The floodgates were opened last year when attorneys filed a class action lawsuit on behalf of a group of disgruntled New Jersey schoolchildren. According to their petition, Santa "failed to live up to the promise of the season" and "tortuously caused plaintiffs to experience headaches, stomach cramps and vomiting when, on Dec. 25, they didn't find all they asked for beneath the Christmas tree."
A response to the lawsuit developed during the North Pole summit has apparently backfired. Acting on the recommendation of his legal counsel, Santa filed a personal action against the childrens' attorneys, alleging a variety of ethical violations. Though Santa was immediately haled by the insurance industry as a stalwart defender of corporate rights, legal experts cried foul, pointing out that "the problem of frivolous litigation will not be solved by more frivolous litigation."
In an ironic twist, Santa's wife Mrs. Claus, who was opposed to suing lawyers, acquired an action of her own when the latch on the family's minivan unexpectedly gave way. Four elves who tumbled onto the highway in the accident were tragically killed.
Upsetting a marriage that has been stable for years, Mrs. Claus hired the very lawyers who are the defendants in Santa's personal lawsuit. The lawyers then filed a class action against the minivan manufacturer, listing Mrs. Claus as the named plaintiff.
"It was a tense few days at the Claus residence," said a high-placed source. "Given his own experience, Santa is no fan of class actions, not to mention the lawyers his wife chose to represent her. He was ready to kick her out of the house. Eventually, though, he agreed with Mrs. Claus that the ability to file a lawsuit is an important right."
Or as Mrs. Claus explained recently, "It was a great loss. Only the hardest-working elves were allowed to ride in the minivan."
Meanwhile, as Santa prepares for his yearly visit to American children, he's making a heroic effort to adopt his usual mirth-loving, jolly character. "It's what people expect of me," he said recently. "And they're right. The sun shouldn't rise and set on lawyers."
"This Christmas," he said, punctuating his comments with a hearty ho-ho-ho, "let's all try to share the Yuletide spirit despite them."