Father Christmas was hanged yesterday afternoon from the railings of Dijon Cathedral and burnt publicly in the precinct. This spectacular execution took place in the presence of several hundred Sunday school children. It was a decision made with the agreement of clergy who had condemned Father Christmas as a usurper and heretic. He was accused of “paganizing” the Christmas festival and installing himself like a cuckoo in the nest, claiming more and more space for himself . . . They set fire to his beard and he vanished into smoke. (Description of events on Christmas Eve in Dijon in 1951; qt. in Lévi-Strauss, 2001: 38-39, originally published in 1952)
1Christmas has not quite always been what it is today. The linkage between the North and Santa Claus is one example of a historically contingent phenomenon that has become a global currency concerning ideas and imaginaries around the Arctic. As the leading paragraph exemplifies, originally in the 1950s Santa was seen as a troublesome figure among some authorities, jeopardizing the Christian monopoly and meaning of Christmas by providing a commercial and jolly antidote to the post-war austerity in Western countries (Lévi-Strauss, 2001; Hancock and Rehn, 2011). What the historical controversy also exemplifies is the later institutionalization of the Santa myth and “cult” in Western societies. Thus, nowadays, it is hard to imagine or practice tourism in Finnish Lapland without bumping into Santa.
2The Arctic Santa myth’s relevance to this article stems from the paradoxes related to Arctic tourism in the Anthropocene. By drawing from sustainable tourism, tourism geography, and critical geography literature, the article uses the enormous theme park “The Republic of Santa Claus,” planned to be built near the Arctic Circle at Rovaniemi, as an example to examine touristic futures in the Anthropocene. Through concepts of heterotopia (Foucault, 1986), pseudo-events (Boorstin, 1992), and Arctification (Müller and Viken, 2017), the article aims to show how future imaginaries of Arctic natures represent paradoxical relationships at the levels of local-global, consumptive-environmental and touristic-authentic. It also seeks to provoke and speculate about what “post-Arctic tourism” (Varnajot and Saarinen, 2021) would present in a region facing increasing environmental changes. It does so by asking: what does the Arctic nature of nature-based tourism look like in the Anthropocene? In more detail, the article asks: what are the futuristic envisions of Arctic nature-based tourism; how are notions of sustainability attached to tourism development, and what do they sustain?
3To answer the above questions, the article utilizes a variety of materials, including domestic and foreign newspaper articles (see appendix), Republic of Santa Claus webpages (ROSC, 2021), and a comparison of the project to national and regional tourism strategies (MEE, 2019; LTB, 2020). The research applies a content analysis method (Elo and Kyngäs, 2008) to qualitatively analyze these materials. The materials are further categorized into key themes, as well as key examples of future tourism in the Arctic and the planned Republic of Santa Claus. This empirical analysis is designed to create a narrative and timeline for the project, which remains a work in progress. Hence, the newspaper articles are primarily employed for illustrative purposes, serving to explicate tourism development from an Anthropocene vantage point as well as to identify potential post-Arctic tourism destinations. The selection of newspaper articles covers digitally available articles on the Republic of Santa between 2016 and 2021.
4The article is structured as follows. It first describes the general features of the Santa tourism business, followed by a presentation of the study’s theoretical framework through a review of the Anthropocene discourse in tourism studies. It then explores the concept of Arctification, and the production of place in tourism, by engaging with the Foucauldian concept of heterotopia. This provides an analytical framework for examining the case of the Republic of Santa Claus, thereby laying the groundwork for an in-depth analysis of the Republic case study. In the subsequent discussion section, the relationship between Arctification and touristic heterotopias is explored to construct the notion of touristic neo-natures. The article concludes with a contemplation of potential post-Arctic touristic futures and their inherent paradoxes.
5“You can keep Christ out of Christmas but not Santa” (Twitchell, 1996: 74). The institutionalization of Santa Claus has been attributed to multiple factors, including the post-WW2 economic growth in Western countries, syncretism of various figures (Lévi-Strauss, 2001) (e.g., St. Nicholas, Kris Kringle, Father Christmas, Santa Claus, Jultomten), and the Coca-Cola Company’s corporate influence in shaping Santa’s current Anglo-American commercial and secular image (McKay, 2008). These developments have transformed Santa into a global brand, which has become an important part of modern Christmas traditions (Hancock and Rehn, 2011; Herva et al., 2020). However, Santa experienced multiple reincarnations over time before the Coca-Cola Company, seeking to overcome challenges related to selling its cold products in winter, launched a campaign around the myth in 1931 (McKay, 2008). It was this campaign that introduced the chubby, cheerful figure with a white beard and red cheeks, solidifying a now iconic image of Santa (Bodden, 2011).
6The cultural significance of Christmas and its contemporary protagonist, Santa, has primarily been institutionalized into a state-sponsored festival in Western countries. Consequently, Philip Hancock and Alf Rehn describe the significance of Christmas to economy and consumption by linking the cult of Santa to ritualized over-spending and gift-giving, expressing how Christmas “performs an inordinately prominent role in the legitimation and continued functioning of consumer capitalism” (2011: 737). Indeed, the commercial value of the Santa brand is enormous; jingle really sells. Some estimations have valued the Santa brand at up to 1.6 trillion dollars (Brand Finance, 2013). According to C. Michael Hall (2008), Santa Claus is likely the world’s strongest brand, making it a vehicle for tourism development in winter and Arctic destinations. Other estimations indicate that the Christmas period consistently accounts for a third of retail revenue each year in many Western countries (Hancock and Rehn, 2011; Western Union, 2020). From this perspective, modern Christmas stands out sui generis as a pinnacle of the hybridization of culture, advertising, and consumption in domestic and public spheres (Mckay, 2008).
7According to Michael Pretes (1995), the history of the Santa Claus industry in Finland is very much a history of privatization and commercial expansion of Christmas. Therefore, it is no surprise the tourism industry in the Arctic areas, with off-the-shelf environmental conditions to back the myth, has heavily built businesses around it. In its simplest form, Santa is part of the tourism experience across the region and the opportunity to meet Santa in person may be the main reason for travelling to the Arctic. However, meeting Santa often comes with a price. Some examples include travel packages for cash-rich and time-poor visitors: one-day fly-in-fly-out trips from the UK to Lapland to meet Santa in a tightly choreographed setting close to the airport (Palo et al., 2018), private meetings with Santa at the cost of up to 250 euros per person (Herva et al., 2020), or more theme park-based solutions such as the Santa Claus Village on the outskirts of the city of Rovaniemi, the capital and commercial centre of the Lapland region, at the Arctic Circle. The Santa Claus Village (for the history of Santa tourism in Finland, see: Pretes, 1995; Herva et al., 2020; Varnajot, 2020) is a hybrid destination providing accommodation, a wide variety of typical nature-based tourism products, a souvenirs-based mall, restaurants, and most of all, different Santa thematized experiences. Additionally, it has been built on the Arctic Circle, making it a place of touristic ritual and landmark of its own (Varnajot, 2019). Before the COVID‑19 pandemic in 2019, the Village received approximately 90,000 visitors a year (Rovaniemi has a population of approximately 60,000), making it “the” Santa hotspot in the Nordic region in the self-claimed “official hometown of Santa Claus,” Rovaniemi (Visit Rovaniemi, 2021). However, the Village’s successful example of using Santa and Christmas branding in Arctic tourism pales in comparison to the project of building Santa his very own Republic.
8The concept of the Anthropocene in social sciences is somewhat contested (Malhi, 2017), and many substitutes have been proposed (see for recent review Chwałczyk, 2020) due to its universalizing nature (Bonneuil and Fressoz, 2016) and problematic designation of agency and accountability (Malm and Hornborg, 2014). However, despite its acknowledged conceptual challenges, it is still a helpful multidisciplinary and gathering concept to describe ongoing anthropogenetic environmental and societal changes. According to Thomas Hylland Eriksen (2016), the Anthropocene era has brought about significant global and local impacts, characterized by the processes of economic and cultural overheating. One manifestation of this overheating is the birth of hypermobility, such as modern tourism, reflecting the human condition as an overachiever in its ability to pass historical planetary limits. For example, it has become increasingly difficult to find areas on the planet that remain untouched by human presence or impact, signalling the end of the concept of “warehouse nature” based on the notion of nature as a source of “free and cheap” goods. Therefore, Eriksen (2016) claims that the idea of the Anthropocene represents a profound shift in nature’s conceptualization, as it has collapsed into the category of culture. In this framing, nature is simultaneously mastered, fragile, and vengeful, capable of creating inhospitable planetary conditions. Eriksen continues that the Anthropocene “signifies that the growth ethos of capitalism and relentless optimism of Enlightenment thought may be nearing their end” (2016: 18). Thus, the concept of the Anthropocene reveals some problematic legacies of Western nature-culture relations. These legacies are marked by processes of radical simplification and modification of the non-human world, all aimed at achieving a fragile immunity and mastery over Earth’s biophysical processes.
9Tourism scholars have incrementally engaged with the notion of the Anthropocene (among others: Gren and Huijbens, 2015; Mostafanezhad and Norum, 2019). The concept has been critically applied to multiple forms of tourism and related issues covering, for example, topics such as biodiversity (Hall, 2015), protected areas and wilderness use (Saarinen, 2018), conservation of cultural heritage (Hall et al., 2015), whale watching (Kristoffersen et al., 2015), over-tourism (Cheer et al., 2019), ecotourism turning into end-of-nature tourism (Fletcher, 2018), and sustainable tourism (Moore, 2015). The overarching idea around these studies has been in dealing with tourism at its current scale as one of the geophysical forces that characterized the nascent Anthropocene (Gren and Huijbens, 2015). This self-reflection ideally has direct implications for destination development, sustainability considerations, and policies and planning related to natural resources (Cheer et al., 2019), especially in nature-based tourism in climate-vulnerable regions.
10In parallel to academic discussions on over-tourism in the Anthropocene, tourism is an increasingly morally and ethically evaluated industry. For example, the emergence of anti-tourism movements and public debates about over-tourism (Nogués-Pedregal et al., 2017; Hughes, 2018; Seraphin et al., 2018) are symptomatic of the social resistance to the industry’s expansions. Moreover, tourism has been increasingly criticized for its environmental impacts, possibly creating new social norms in tourism (e.g., flight shame and eco-guilt or eco-defence) (Gössling, 2019; Mkono and Hughes, 2020). This shift in societal attitudes has also created more focus on the tourism industry’s growing flying-related emissions (Gössling et al., 2010; Lenzen et al., 2018). Regarding the impact of tourism on biodiversity and ecological erosion of destinations, “loving nature to death” scenarios have been proposed (Hall, 2015) to describe the role of tourism’s contribution to the unnatural natural history of the planet. Thus, tourism is increasingly acknowledged for producing global greenhouse emissions, raising old debates over wants and needs, subsistence, and luxury emissions (Shue, 1993). Therefore, sustainability is crucial for the industry as it needs to reproduce and justify its societal acceptance beyond purely economic benefits.
11Jarkko Saarinen (2004) argues that tourism-related place promotion and marketing spatialize meanings, histories, and representations for consumptive purposes, creating stereotypes and simplifications that support the commercial appeal of destinations and places. Furthermore, tourism and touristic representations are also manifestations of power and capacity to frame places and spaces, captured by the phrase of tourism being “Something by Someone to Somebody” (Saarinen, 2004: 442). More recently, these framing and discursive practices have been discussed through the concept of “Arctification” (Müller and Viken, 2017; Cooper et al., 2019; Rantala et al., 2019). According to Dieter K. Müller and Arvid Viken (2017: 288), the concept of Arctification describes “a social process creating new geographical images of the North of Europe as part of the Arctic.” Hence, Arctification produces stereotypical imaginaries about the Arctic related to the environment and landscapes of winter and snow (Rantala et al., 2019).
12Arctification captures the tourism industry’s role in spatializing and regionalizing meanings through specific sites and campaigns to produce appeal, demand, and visitability in an accentuated visitor-oriented manner. Accordingly, the concept of Arctification presents a regionalized version of framing and spatializing meanings for the tourism industry to promote Arctic regions by simplifying its features for the tastes of a global customer base. In this vein, the concept aligns with other ideas around processes of rationalization, commercialization, and homogenization of cultures, private and public spheres (Lunden, 2022) such as “McDonaldization” (Ritzer, 2019), “Coca-colonization” (McKay, 2008), and “Disneyization” (Bryman, 1999), in a regionally tailored and industry-specific manner. Therefore, Arctification is a valuable conceptualization of a wide array of processes in tourism development aiming to brand, market, and produce places, meanings, and destinations in tourism in the Circumpolar North.
13Even though Finnish Lapland has already been heavily influenced by benchmarking and simulations of cultural forms of global tourism (e.g., the Alpine village architecture, husky industry, snow “safaris”) (Lunden, 2022), the Arctification phenomenon is becoming more relevant due to new waves of global tourism influences and the lure of preparing for the take-off of the global middle-class. More infrastructure, destinations, and leisure options are thus needed to respond to and accommodate the expected global masses of visitors in Finnish Lapland. Additionally, more packaging and mediation of the Arctic are required to create tame, scalable, and visitor-friendly products, ideally, in a manner that maintains the simplified regional elements and previous framings of pure and pristine nature, charismatic landscapes, specific cultural features, wilderness, and Santa’s home, unique in the tourist’s eyes.
14Arctification also presents risks. Imagining and promoting the Arctic as a homogenous, gendered, and unpopulated “wilderness” of ice and snow (Loftsdóttir, 2015; Fjellestad, 2016) ignores the multiplicity of cultures, livelihoods, and ethnicities (Herva et al., 2020), seasonalities (Rantala et al., 2019; Saarinen and Varnajot, 2019), and risks of creating false visitor expectations (Tervo-Kankare et al., 2013; Varnajot and Saarinen, 2021). Furthermore, the strong emphasis on winter tourism may create risky economic dependencies for entrepreneurs in case of disruptions (pandemics for example) or boom-and-bust cycles.
15The concept of heterotopia originates from the work of Michel Foucault (1986), “Of Other Places,” a lecture he gave to architectural students in 1967. Foucault described heterotopic sites as real, yet distinct, spaces that exist apart from ordinary sites, encapsulating a multitude of other sites simultaneously. The function of the utopian and heterotopic sites is to “suspect, neutralize or invert the set of relations that they happen to designate, mirror or reflect” (1986: 24). The concept of heterotopia aims to cover a vast range of cultural, institutional, or discursive spaces “that are somehow ‘different’: disturbing, intense, incompatible, contradictory and transforming” (Johnson, 2013: 790-791). Although the concept has been criticized for vagueness and unclarity, for being somewhat “sketchy, open-ended and ambiguous” (ibid.: 790), it has been widely employed in geography and social sciences (see below).
16Foucault lists six principles (1986) to describe heterotopic sites: (1) they are universal and exist in all cultures, but in different forms (e.g., military service), (2) they are flexible, and their roles change in time (cemetery), (3) they juxtapose several incompatible sites in a single place (museum), (4) they disrupt traditional concepts of time (festivals), (5) they are exclusionary sites requiring acts or rituals to enter (Nordic saunas), and (6) they exist only relationally to other sites (brothels). An example of image and mirror is given by Foucault, where the reflecting image represents a utopia (placeless place), whereas the materially existing object of the mirror represents the heterotopic site (reconstitution of myself and the place that is occupied) (1986: 24). The focus here is the interplay and relation between the material and the imaginative quality of spaces (Johnson, 2013; Rankin and Collins, 2017), the sum of the mirror, the gaze and the reflection; an imaginary constructed but physically established territory literally taking place (emphasis added) (Johnson, 2013).
17Heterotopias can be conceptualized as exceptional spaces, each exhibiting distinctive sovereignty and serving a functional and productive purpose in mirroring societal norms and values (Rowen, 2017). Their influence stems not solely from their reflective, liminal, or alternative characteristics, but also from their capacity to shape societal conventions and establish new spatial relations (Rankin and Collins, 2017). Moreover, heterotopias are spaces with multiple simultaneous meanings, “real, localized sites of difference that may be disturbing, contradictory or incompatible” (Kearns et al., 2016: 194), separating them from utopias. Numerous societal domains harbour such liminal qualities, each embodying unique symbolic and societal significance. National parks, for instance, serve dual purposes. They are designated not only for ecological conservation but also function as emblematic sites of national identity—spaces collectively appreciated yet not truly possessed by any single entity. Similarly, museums, military zones, and cemeteries reflect and represent societal values and norms, serving as unique and liminal spaces detached from the common experiences of daily life. Hence, the concept of heterotopias offers a perspective on society’s spatial organization.
18The concept of heterotopia has been applied in tourism studies, for example, in the context of zoos (Kearns et al., 2016), cruise ships (Rankin and Collins, 2017), dark tourism (Stone, 2013), and theme parks (Bruchansky, 2010). As a form of tourism, the theme park presents an idea of leisure in a rationalized, largely pre-scripted, and pre-negotiated environment (MacCannell, 1973). Theme parks like the Republic of Santa Claus present a spectrum of perceptions and experiences—they are places of risks and promises for some, while for others, they offer leisure, magic, and myths. At the same time, they can also symbolize cultural erosion of place from the perspective of traditions and local sentiments. Therefore, the concept of heterotopia provides a theoretical instrument for deconstructing the spatial and socio-natural conventions and contradictions inherent in sustainable tourism in the Anthropocene. It reveals the underlying tensions and disparities characterizing the dominant discourses of Arctic futures and tourism development.
19According to Christophe Bruchansky (2010), theme parks are built on principles of cognitive overloading (e.g., visuals, music, characters) and decontextualization (artificial snow, domes, monorails, and wooden villages) that draw from reality (the Arctic, Lappish elements, reindeer) but are eternally mouldable and flexible pursuant to visitor demands. For Bruchansky, heterotopia represents a society that distortedly reflects idealized aspects of culture. However, in theme parks, not all is magic or familiar. On the contrary, it is in the theme park representing the fictional characters and idealized natures, after paying the entrance fee, when one can step into the role of experiencing and relaxing.
20An important aspect of novel heterotopias is the emergence of techno-futuristic plans drawing from the expected impacts of climate change and “smart-city” visions. Notable examples include Saudi Arabia’s Neom megacity project, branded as “the accelerator of human progress,” promising fossil-free mobility in a sensor-full city where the goal is not anymore about building a smart, but “the first cognitive city” (Neom, 2021). Other similar examples include the World Island of Dubai, an artificial archipelago of islands shaped like the world map (also the existing Palm Island and the planned Universe Islands), or the construction of renewable energy-heated tropical islands in front of sub-Arctic Helsinki (Helsingin Sanomat, 2021). Thus, the vision of establishing a state for Santa is not as unimaginable as first thought, as many neo-urban and neo-natural environments are already in place.
21Finnish Lapland has an Arctic and subarctic climate in northern Finland, covering roughly one-third of the country’s land area but only with a populace representing around 3% (c. 180,000 inhabitants) of Finland’s total population of 5.5 million (Tilastokeskus, 2021). The primary industries in the Lapland region have traditionally been mainly based on natural resources and bioeconomy (forestry, mining, and tourism) with more minor and recent focus also on renewable energy (wind power), and it has become one of the product testing hubs for winter conditions and cold (e.g., the tire industry) (House of Lapland, 2022).
22Arctic tourism in Finland is primarily nature-based. Key features in the winter include ski resorts, protected areas, cross-country skiing, husky safaris, northern lights, snowmobile riding, and the sauna. Outside the winter season, hiking, mountain biking, hunting, fishing, and the autumn colours are the most common touristic themes across Lapland. A dominant feature in winter is tourism’s concentration on a handful of ski resorts, creating increasingly tourism-exclusive spaces that bring multiple destination types together (protected areas, ski resorts, and purely touristic services such as spas and golf courses) that target various customer groups simultaneously.
23Stark seasonal differences exist in Lapland, with the most tourist visits traditionally occurring during the Christmas period, mainly due to snow- and Santa Claus-related tourism. Additionally, the Arctic Circle continues to present a spectacle for tourists to jump in and out from the Circumpolar North and the “Arctic” (Varnajot, 2019). Due to the relatively strong growth of tourism in the Lapland region in the past decades (around 4% annual growth on average in the 2010s) (House of Lapland, 2019), not only has the sector become more oriented toward foreign markets, but also more extensive in terms of service provision. Responding to demand has caused touristic “syncretism,” that is, the adoption of products and services without a traditional foundation in the Lapland region. An example of such syncretism is the husky safaris, originating from the Canadian context and later introduced to Lapland to cater to French customers’ tastes and idealizations of the white wilderness (Saarinen, 2004). According to Saarinen (2004), the reindeer used across Lapland in tourism also serve the same purpose: to foster an image of the region and destination that aligns with the Arctic imaginings of visitors.
- 1 All quotations from Finnish publications are translated by the author.
24The planned area for the theme park is 7750 hectares (with 10 km x 8 km) located about 25 kilometres north of Rovaniemi, near the existing Santa Claus Village and the airport (see Map). The plan shows that the Republic would be linked to the airport by a monorail system. The logistics in the area would be entirely handled with fossil-free options, including electronic cars, horses, and reindeer. The area reserved for the Republic, currently state-owned and overseen by Metsähallitus (the governing body of the state’s natural resources), comprises commercial forests, aggregate mining areas, peat production, roads, private properties, and reindeer herding facilities (Aamulehti, 2018). However, the land area for the Republic was described as “pristine wilderness”1 by project leaders, framing the Arctic as an empty space waiting to be used productively. The multifaceted industrial use of this area—for forestry, land excavation, military practice, among other activities—somewhat contradicts this idyllic image. The significant size of the area necessitated governmental approval for management and leasing, bringing into question the image of “pristineness” constructed primarily for marketing, not forgetting that the area’s proximity to an airport and the accompanying noise pollution further challenge this marketable image.
The City of Rovaniemi and the Planned Location of the Republic of Santa Claus Theme Park
25The masterplan of the Republic is divided into four main areas (ROSC, 2021). Firstly, there is a “Welcome Centre,” with a mall of 60-80 shops acting as the customs to the Republic where visitors need to either buy a visa or hold a pre-bought e‑citizenship to enter the State of Santa. The second thematized area, named “The Original Christmas,” is where visitors can “travel through time and space as you experience hundreds of years’ worth of culture and stories from different nations, each with its own flavour and appeal.” Its landmarks are the “Aurora Hall,” the “Gingerbread House,” and a hotel shaped like a Christmas tree. Additionally, this area aims to provide culturally tailored versions of Christmas (Ilta-Sanomat, 2019). The third area, called “The Snowglobe,” mirrors the world-famous toy in the form of a transparent dome covering an area of 25,000-30,000 square metres (The Barents Observer, 2019). The Snowglobe is built around the idea of offering “a window into childhood” to “experience your incredible childhood memories once again.” Its features include year-round artificial snowing, a village made from hundreds of townhouses with accommodations, restaurants, and artificial northern lights. Finally, the fourth section promises to provide opportunities to “Rest your mind and your body” in its health and wellness area. In this area one can enjoy “the wonder of silence and peacefulness” at “Our ecological oasis . . . among most stunning nature.” In addition, this section includes the world’s largest sauna and an “endless selection of yoga classes, massages, body, and skincare treatments and therapies.”
26The Republic project’s founders identified an element missing from the Finnish context: the ability to think big. The aim was not to build a theme park, not even a destination equal to Disneyland, but something more significant at the level of touristic re-worlding (MTV3, 2019). Their project was boldly described as the “Kids’ Las Vegas” (Lapin Kansa, 2019), a venture whose appeal was projected to attract millions, necessitating a new paradigm in Finnish tourism development (Iltalehti, 2018). The project’s spokesperson encapsulated the bold spirit of their ambition by positioning Santa Claus—a symbol intimately linked with Finnish identity—on par with religious icons: “Santa is a bit like Jesus. No one owns him. The Pope lives in the Vatican because it’s the state of the Pope. Santa is Finnish, and he lives here” (Ilta-Sanomat, 2019). This statement underlines the project’s aim to redefine Finland’s place in the global tourism landscape by leveraging its unique cultural symbols.
27Building on their ambitious vision, the founders of the Republic grounded their expectations on the steady growth of tourism in Northern Finland, the nation’s reliable operational climate, and the matchless allure of the Arctic. They set out to utilize the distinctive features of Lapland, creating an experience beyond the reach of other major global theme parks. The essence of the Republic was designed to offer experiences grounded in the “genuine elements of Lapland” (Yle, 2017). The project lead’s focus was on the magnitude and scope of the project to appeal to global investors, with little concern about securing investment in the post-pandemic tourism landscape. This confidence was apparent in his remarks on the pandemic’s impact on the industry: “We will surely find investors for this. Christmas is the world’s largest business, or at least the second largest right after sex” (Lapin Kansa, 2021).
28The promotion of sustainability, along with visions of “smart” cities and technological utopias, is a key theme in the Republic’s plans. These sustainability perspectives focus only on the destination without considering the systemic unsustainabilities of tourism (e.g., Hall, 2015; Saarinen, 2020). Still, the sustainability vision is based on combining profitable business without ecological damage: “We—Santa and the elves, want to show the world that you can do profitable business without destroying nature. With humane values and by respecting nature” (Iltalehti, 2018). The general plan highlights the Republic’s function in a decarbonized manner but where the sustainability of the endeavour starts and ends at the airport’s gates.
29Whilst clearly portrayed as a commercialized space, the Republic had an educational aspect too. It would have its school and university for “elves,” specializing in “everything that can make the world a better place, mitigate climate change and purify the world’s waters” in addition to teaching elves how to get all the world’s people to live in peace and respect with each other, and how “nature can be used for the benefit and joy of humans.” Moreover, world peace was commercialized as the Republic would represent “a state, where everyone is equal regardless of race, place of birth, conviction, wealth, imperfections, or anything similar. In the Republic of Santa, there is no politics or religion” (ibid.).
30The broader vision around the Republic is based on aggressive commodification and productization of the Arctic environment and the promotion of Christmas myths and virtues. In the beginning, when the project was introduced to the public and leaked to the media, the Republic was advertised for potential investors as a “destination where one can experience the spirit of Christmas, the children’s belief and nature’s tranquillity, safety, and purity” (Matka24, 2021). The project was launched a year prior to Finland’s 100th year of independence in 2018 and as such was presented with a strong nationalistic framing emphasizing collaboration between the tourism industry and public sector to significantly boost Finland’s economy, public image, and employment. A key component of the project’s communication to domestic investors was its depiction of the Republic as a showcase for Finnish brands to exhibit and market their products, and an emphasis on demonstrating Finland’s know-how in timber construction and in sustainable development practices. This nationalistic framing of the project was well explained in the project lead’s description: “The basic ideology is that we will build something that will last in Finland for the next 100 years, as we firmly believe that there are still people in the world who want a peaceful, safe, pure, and human place where they can relax in the middle of this hectic world. Additionally, we believe in the message of Christmas: goodwill and promotion of peace.” The developers were thankful for being able to execute “the whole Nation’s project with huge employment impacts in Lapland and beyond” (Iltalehti, 2017).
31The business-oriented framing of the project was based on creating a more entrepreneur-friendly operational environment, something that was not yet available in Finland, according to the project leader (Iltalehti, 2017). Moreover, in the early interviews, the developers brought up the idea of treating Santa’s state as a tax-free area or trade zone (Yle, 2017). It is unclear from the analyzed news articles if the e‑citizenship was somehow attached to the tax-free zoning of the Republic or if it was imagined more along the lines of the tax-free status of the autonomic and demilitarized Åland Island’s region of Finland. In general, the idea of having a tax-free zone inland is rather exceptional in the Finnish context. However, it was envisioned that the Republic would generate such a significant economic boost for the entire nation that standard taxation would not be required. Subsequently, mirroring this vision of financial benefit, the project was reframed as a public-private partnership, acknowledging its potential for public advantage and export gains (Lapin Kansa, 2019).
32Although tourism strategies, in general, are growth-focused, the national and regional tourism strategies (MEE, 2019; LTB, 2020) are relatively modest compared to the Republic’s tourism development plans in the Lapland region. The general goal of the national tourism strategy (MEE, 2019) is focused on “sustainable growth” and aims to make Finland the most sustainably growing destination among the Nordics by doubling tourism exports during the next decade. However, compared to the impact visions of the Republic, these regional and national tourism strategies fall short in their ambition.
33According to the head of the company, the estimated final cost of the project would be around one billion euros. The annual visitor rate would be approximately ten million (averaging over 27,000 visitors a day, making it as popular as the Louvre in Paris), and the Republic would create 10,000 direct and up to 20,000 indirect jobs (Ilta-Sanomat, 2019). In comparison, Disneyland Paris was visited by 9.84 million people in 2018 (Statista, 2021), while Copenhagen’s Tivoli welcomed 4.85 million people in 2019 (Statista, 2020). The company representative anticipated that the impact of the Republic would increase Finland’s tourism revenue by four billion euros, as it would bring more visitors and extend the traditionally quieter summer and autumn seasons. To put these estimations into the context of pre-pandemic tourism in northern Finland, Lapland registered around three million overnight stays in 2018, directly employed around 7400 persons (House of Lapland, 2019), and created a tourism demand worth approximately one billion euros (RTA, 2020). In other words, the complete execution of the Republic and concretizing the estimates would present a game changer for the whole industry, the Nordics, the nation, the region, and the city of Rovaniemi. In addition, standard topics such as over-tourism or social carrying capacities were not mentioned in the sustainability visions of the Republic. Sustainability is brought up frequently in the project ethos and description, presented as crucial for the region and the nation, but without mentioning limits, conflicts, or linkages to systemic challenges of tourism.
34The Republic caused concerns and doubt in the media from the very beginning. Eyebrows were raised as the leading tourism actors had not been informed about or included in visioning the Republic (Matka24, 2021). Soon after the project became public, one commentator wondered about and criticized it for lack of tangibility, funders, and for being far too idealistic, labelling it “the World’s most commercial project built around an uncommercial brand” (Lapin Kansa, 2017). However, public officials were cautiously optimistic about the project but pointed out the lack of required land use plans and details (Aamulehti, 2018). After a non-binding letter of intent to rent the land to the Republic, the state’s contract partner commented that permitting and building the project would take years, and there was a need to solve many problems related to the construction process (Ilta-Sanomat, 2019). After the project company was publicly listed for unpaid bills, the state’s representative underlined the speculative nature of the letter of intent, reflected in the short, one-year duration of the initial rent agreement and the continuation of the state’s forestry activities in the reserved area (Lapin Kansa, 2019). The public sector’s reservations about the Republic’s theme park plan were also present, as seen in the state’s reluctance to sign anything beyond a letter of intent, as well as in the mayor of Rovaniemi’s promise to provide support “within the limits of realism” (MTV3, 2019). Another leading politician commented that the project was exaggerated but hoped that at least some parts of it would materialize (Lapin Kansa, 2021).
35Considering the significant land allocation earmarked for the theme park, it was somewhat unexpected that the project generated relatively little controversy amongst various stakeholders. Aside from the state’s own use of the area mainly for forestry and land excavation purposes, the area was also used by the Finnish Defence Forces for military training, as well as rented for tourism entrepreneurs. Furthermore, the local Finnish-speaking reindeer herders traditionally operate in the area, which includes a “separation fence” used for herd round-up and sorting (Metsähallitus, 2023, personal communications). Thus, it can only be speculated that the lack of substantial resistance from other land users (e.g., reindeer herders, leisure users) or competitors (such as the established Santa’s Village) was due to the early stage and grandiose nature of the project, meaning it lacked the necessary credibility to provoke strong opposition.
36The state later extended the intentional agreement due to the impacts caused by the COVID‑19 pandemic (Lapin Kansa, 2021). As of early 2023, the agreement between the project company and the landowner had lapsed. Nonetheless, according to the spokesperson for the state’s land and estate development in the Rovaniemi region, the present global upheavals (e.g., COVID‑19 pandemic, decreased Asian tourism, and Russia’s incursion into Ukraine) have contributed to the project’s discontinuation. Despite this setback, the state continues to monitor the project’s progress. It has not ruled out the possibility that the Republic of Santa may be sited in the originally planned location (Metsähallitus, 2023, personal communications).
In short, tourism is not just an aggregate of merely commercial activities; it is also an ideological framing of history, nature, and tradition; a framing that has the power to reshape culture and nature to its own needs.
(MacCannell, 2013: 34)
37In hindsight, the Republic exemplifies an imaginary place constructed to cater to global fly-in-fly-out visitors. Yet, so far, it has only succeeded in generating destination images and economic promises. Following the presence and acceptance of “genuine fakes” in tourism (e.g., theme parks, souvenirs, aquariums) (Brown, 1996), Daniel Boorstin’s (1992) concept of “pseudo-event” is a useful starting point to deconstruct the case of the Republic. As Michael Pretes (1995) suggests, consumers often prioritize manufactured and staged realities, where the experience of a culture’s perceived idea is more important than the actual referent. Thus, according to Boorstin (1992), pseudo-phenomena are based on their purposeful nature (construction of a theme park), orientation toward the media (audience, consumers), representativeness as secondary in comparison to appeal and attraction (demand for Santa), and having a performative tendency to create or aim for self-fulfilling prophecies (the economic and employment effect of the Republic). The outcome is the economic and environmental rationalization of leisure and its representations according to the tourism industry.
38On the one hand, the Republic can be understood as a heterotopic pseudo-nature where imaginaries of place and nature are more relevant than reality and what the Arctic can provide. At the practical level, the establishment of the Republic has been largely speculative. This may well be a strategy to create interest among foreign investors. Hence, from a domestic perspective, the Republic project has primarily been an image-based marketing campaign. However, vast projects like this typically require concrete and tangible components, such as land use plans and environmental and social impact analyses mandated by public authorities. On the other hand, the idea of the Republic has been based on the lure of a fantasy figure and the Arctic environment, rendered, productized, and mobilized on an unprecedented scale for tourism and business. The Arctic environment is seen as sufficiently flexible to be altered or “Arctified” to meet perceived touristic demands. This process involves creating representations and visions—sometimes genuine, sometimes idealized—that modify both the material and symbolic forms of space and place. Consequently, the Arctic environment is not only re-imagined but also re-fabricated to suit these needs. The Republic of Santa Claus embodies this phenomenon, representing a kind of global non-place—a touristic creation devoid of a direct counterpart in the actual Arctic environment or in Finnish culture, crafted to cater to global perceptions and demands.
39Like the descriptions of the planned area as a “pristine wilderness,” the whole region of Finnish Lapland was presented as passive and outdated in the visions of the Republic. The existing Santa destinations were characterized as insufficient for catering to modern tourists’ growing demands and requirements. The lack of national actors’ ability to “think big” was another mental barrier within the unentrepreneurial operative environment. According to the project lead, the media also had given a too narrow view of the project, building “only” a theme park, whereas the Republic was “not a Disneyland, but a pristine destination following the standards of sustainable development” (Aamulehti, 2018). Therefore, an urgent need was expressed to quickly upgrade the Santa business to modern standards for the expected wave of (primarily Asian-referenced) visitors.
40Interestingly, this sentiment of the need to upgrade Lappish destinations and even Santa is not new. According to Pretes’s analysis of the first tourism strategies (1995), the birth of global branding of Santa as a Finnish character in the 1980s was primarily based on the hypothesis that Finnish natural and cultural features were insufficient in themselves to attract tourists. Therefore, new tourism products were needed. This inadequacy hypothesis was a strong motivator in the early phases of the Santa business at the Arctic Circle. Similarly, the Republic relied on a reformist narrative that depicted nature as wilderness, constructed from discourses emphasizing the planned park area as empty and unused. This narrative ultimately produced a vision that met the Republic’s needs by creating a sense of demand, sub-optimal usage, and inadequacy of existing tourism destinations.
41Although the Republic could be a prime example of hyperreality (Baudrillard, 1994), as a pinnacle of “planted” Arctic that replace realities with imaginaries and pseudo-natures, this would only apply to the cultural aspects of commodifying the Arctic and Santa. In a sense, the hyperreality of the Republic represents a relatively straightforward vision of building a theme park based on the Arctic location and demand for Santa. However, the Republic is more reminiscent of the dystopian science fiction television series “Westworld” than a traditional theme park; it exemplifies more than fabrication and reinterpretation of cultural meanings for commercial purposes. Thus, beyond explaining the Republic as an example of penetration of rationalization, commercialization, and materialism into cultural and Finnish outdoor traditions, it also presents a problematic vision for nature-culture relations and politics.
42The vision of Santa’s Republic is one of a “neo-nature”: artificial, simulative, and protected from instabilities of its referent (seasons and climate insecurities), the Arctic. However, neo-natures also exemplify spaces of managerial experimentation, testing the limits of ordering and disciplining nature and myths for touristic purposes without losing their appeal in the eyes of the masses (Lunden, 2022). Hence, the Republic can be seen as a “touristic neo-nature,” an extreme example of Arctification, an attempt where authenticity is optional, not mandatory. To provide a highly stereotypical and uniform image of the Arctic, a monotonic and standardized experience of nature eliminates all the features that hinder optimized touristic consumption.
43Furthermore, the Republic presents a new political imagination for the region and the industry. The size of the project would likely entail significant public investments in infrastructure (e.g., expansion of the airport at Rovaniemi, perhaps even at Helsinki), recruitment of a foreign workforce numbered in the thousands, and rapid reorganization of the whole tourism industry. In other words, the Republic would require large-scale re-ordering of the region and the industry. Three logics of closure exemplify this type of neo-natural ordering for total Arctification: a closed business model and detachment from the environment and the state.
44Firstly, the exclusionary design of the Republic acts as a closed user interface or as a mandatory platform that also creates a closed business model—the owners of the Republic control and gain from companies entering the premises, while the visitors must pay a fee to join Santa’s microcosmos. In addition to serving as a platform for guiding visitors to follow a predetermined script and choreography—akin to a form of “managed openness” present in theme parks (Kearns et al., 2016)— Santa’s microcosmos also functions as a policing mechanism for service providers. Following the logic of a mall, the promise and production of authenticity and regional uniqueness (e.g., local dishes from regional ingredients) require local providers’ input and willingness to follow the Republic’s script.
45The second aspect is that the Republic detaches itself from its environmental context and natural climate seasonalities by creating artificial winter elements that function even during summer temperatures. The traditional dependency of the industry on climate variations is nullified by technologies that rely on provisioning global customers with flights and making sure snow, Santa, the northern lights, and all other types of amusement are available all year round. Thus, the trouble of weather linked to the whiteness of winter or clouds blocking the northern lights is efficiently dealt with using technology and reducing weather-related business risks to automation.
46Finally, the Republic represents an attempt to detach itself from the political and cultural context. Already twenty-five years ago, Keith Hollinshead’s (1998) critical appraisal of Stephen Fjellman’s study on the cultural role and political economy of Disney World in America (1992) scrutinized the role of theme parks and tourism as a manifestation of a type of “entrepreneurial violence” (Hollinshead, 1998: 58). This interpretation denotes the industries’ ability to seize and alter human and natural history and heritage into globalized goods and programmes intended for regional and national development. Analogously to the case of the Republic of Santa, the project’s discourses surrounding nationhood, such as the concepts of republic, e‑citizenship, and visas and the intention to obtain tax-free status, provide a compelling illustration of such “enterprising” nature, culture, and nationhood (Dempsey, 2016). Paradoxically, framing the project as a nationalistic endeavour due to its regional and national economic benefits aims to recruit local support while simultaneously promoting autonomy and detachment from the locality by establishing a global trade zone in the name of Santa.
47It would be easy to dismiss the Republic of Santa Claus plan as an unrealistic and megalomaniac project with a small likelihood of ever materializing, even if only used in the end as a negotiation strategy to get permits for a more traditional resort. However, tourism is often regarded as a final, sustainable solution (notably in comparison to mining and forestry) for peripheral regions, exemplified by the case of the Republic. Such considerations were clearly reflected in the state representative’s position when commenting about the future of the Republic on public land as “something that they follow closely” (Metsähallitus, 2023, personal communications), even though previous provisory land reservation agreements with the project company had expired. The logic behind detaching Christmas (and Santa as its icon) from being a periodic event and transforming it into a perpetually present destination available for consumption underscores a significant shift in cultural and commercial practices. Therefore, this article has used the Republic as an example and window to discuss tourism-nature relationships in the context of the Anthropocene. The value of the notion of the Anthropocene is especially pertinent for this study as it entails that humans are the protagonist and culprit behind contemporary and future environmental damage in the warming world and fast-changing Arctic region.
48Furthermore, the concepts of heterotopias and neo-natures characterize possible “post-Arctic” (Varnajot and Saarinen, 2021) touristic futures. This article speculated and provoked touristic natures in the Arctic that will need to be simulated and re-imagined after the natural environments, snow, and species are gone. In this respect, the domes, the artificial snowflakes, and the indoor environments step in to provide nostalgic natures and climates of the Holocene—the genuine fakes of the future (Brown, 1996; Lunden, 2022). In the case of the Santa industry, the post-Arctic requires a double simulation (Ong and Jin, 2016) of the myth and the Arctic. The Republic presents an example of such double simulation where Arctic nature needs to be air-conditioned and manufactured to reproduce the conditions for the phantasmagorical world of Santa. To keep Santa in business in the Anthropocene, reality needs to give way to representation as the real is no longer necessary or optimal for commodification (Pretes, 1995). The case of the Republic illustrates the production of a simulacrum of the Arctic environment, where the natural landscape has been replaced by artificial and controlled experiences, packaged as part of family-friendly neo-natures, that keep the myths of Santa and the Arctic alive in the conditions of the Anthropocene.
49The paradox of post-Arctic tourism is apparent as it morphs into a 24/7 source of dark ecological tourism, an ongoing source of the warming Arctic. The neo-natures and touristic heterotopias such as the Republic represent the ultimate Arctified response. By design, they can maintain demand and reproduce faith in Christmas, all while excluding typical dependencies on place, locale, and weather from the equation. Based on expectations of continued growth in tourism and interest in the Arctic, the Republic offers a robust and stable model for future Arctic mass tourism. It presents an alternative reality of fabricated neo-nature—a hyper-destination that stays open as long as flights and the monorail keep running. The construction of mega-projects and production of heterotopic neo-nature destinations is likely to become more common in tourism. Therefore, it is crucial to consider not only the direct and indirect consequences of these touristic mega-projects due to their scale, and environmental and regional impacts, but also to question whom they serve, what they represent, and who is represented.
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