When I was a kid, Christmas wasn’t just “exciting”. It was my main operating system. I was hyperfixated on Santa Claus to a level that probably worried a few adults.
I spent December watching endless YouTube videos of “Santa sightings”, pausing grainy footage like I was doing forensic analysis. I emailed Santa. I got a reply. I printed it off and took it into school as proof that he was real. I wasn’t joking. I was running a case file.
Back then, everyone just saw an overexcited kid who needed to calm down. Now, with an autism diagnosis and a bit more self awareness, it’s pretty clear what was going on. It was autistic hyperfixation latching onto the biggest cultural ritual in the calendar.
If you’re new here and wondering what this has to do with anything, this site, The Reasonable Adjustment, exists because that same brain now points itself at Subject Access Request chaos, conflicts of interest and the wider cost of underestimating disabled people in public systems.
Santa, Structure And Why Christmas Hooks Autistic Brains
For an autistic kid, Christmas is basically a perfect storm:
- It’s got a clear date and a countdown.
- There are rules, rituals and scripts everyone pretends to follow.
- There’s one central figure with a full lore package.
- Adults help maintain the illusion, which gives it extra weight.
If your brain likes patterns, routines and systems, that’s hard to ignore. You’re not just “excited for presents”. You’re handed a controlled experiment, a global tradition and a character who allegedly visits every house in one night.
My autistic brain did what autistic brains usually do. It tried to make the whole thing make sense. It gathered “evidence”. It replayed information. It zoomed in on details other people skimmed past. The same tendency shows up when I’m breaking down how decision makers behave in pieces like The Cost of Underestimation.
NORAD, Santa Tracking And A Crash Course In Timezones
The bit I still look back on with a strange amount of fondness is the NORAD Santa Tracker. Every year, without fail, I’d sit there watching this tiny sleigh crawl across a world map like it was a live military operation.
It wasn’t just “fun graphics” to me. It was data. It was a moving visual timetable. I was quietly learning:
- How timezones worked.
- Why some places hit midnight earlier than others.
- Roughly where different countries actually were.
- That other people’s “Christmas Eve” didn’t line up neatly with mine.
While other kids saw Santa flying over “somewhere far away”, I was staring at the UTC offsets, checking when “he” would be in places I’d never heard of and noticing that the world runs on a complicated set of invisible rules.
Even now, I still open noradsanta.org most years. I’m fascinated by how it shows time, distance and other people’s lives. Somewhere in the world, people are prepping food, going to church, starting night shifts or working through Christmas Eve. Watching the tracker move across the map is a reminder that my experience is one tiny version of the story.
That same interest in time, distance and behaviour now lives inside the logging and security work I do at Ki-Ki, where the “sleigh on the map” has quietly turned into traffic patterns, traces and evidence grade logs for real organisations.
Emailing Santa: Autistic Logic In Its Purest Form
The “I emailed Santa and printed the reply” bit is the one that makes me laugh now. It’s also the most autistic detail in the whole story.
I didn’t just sit in the myth. I contacted the source, got a written reply and then took that into school as proof.
That’s exactly the same mindset I use now for:
- Freedom of Information requests.
- Subject Access Requests.
- Chasing documentation from public bodies and charities.
- Publishing timelines and receipts here on The Reasonable Adjustment.
If you want real world examples of where that lands, have a look at:
The topic’s changed. The wiring hasn’t. As a child, I wanted proof that Santa was real. As an adult, I want proof that institutions are telling the truth. Same engine, different target.
Hyperfixation Isn’t “Immature”, It’s A Skill That Hasn’t Been Aimed Yet
A lot of autistic kids get written off as “obsessed”, “too intense” or “too old to still believe in that stuff”. People see a kid who won’t let go of Santa, or trains, or dinosaurs, or a particular YouTuber.
What’s actually happening under the bonnet is a very specific pattern:
- Deep focus that ignores noise and distraction.
- Replaying the same material until it feels mapped out.
- Needing consistency in the story and the rules.
- Real emotional attachment to the ritual wrapped around it.
That’s not childish. It’s specialist behaviour that hasn’t got a job title yet. Give that same brain access to legislation, datasets, logs, case law or code and suddenly it’s “detail oriented professional”, not “that kid who wouldn’t shut up about Santa”.
If this hits a bit close to home and you want to see how that intensity plays out in adult life, the wider archive of investigations and explainers is on the main site.
From Santa Sightings To Systems Of Power
When you zoom out, my Santa phase looks like a rough prototype of the work I do now.
As a kid:
- I watched every Santa video I could find.
- I cross checked details, times and “evidence”.
- I built a story that made sense to me.
- I tried to convince other people with printed proof.
As an adult:
- I read FOI responses, policies and reports.
- I cross check timelines, numbers and internal contradictions.
- I build a narrative about what actually happened.
- I put the receipts in public so people can see for themselves.
It’s the same mental muscle. The stakes are just higher now than “does a man in a red suit fit down every chimney in Europe”.
If This Sounds Like You Or Your Kid
If you’re autistic and cringing at your own childhood Christmas behaviour, it’s worth reframing it. You weren’t ridiculous. You were training.
If you’re a parent with a kid who’s absolutely locked onto Santa this year, watching the tracker on repeat and talking about timezones like a tiny air traffic controller, that isn’t something to be ashamed of. It’s a sign their brain’s built for depth, not shallow engagement.
If you want solid, practical information about autism and support, have a look at:
For me, the hyperfixation shifted from Santa and sleigh routes into policy, data, evidence and power. The same obsessive bit of my brain that tracked a fictional man round the planet now tracks what public money’s doing, how disabled people are treated and who’s hoping nobody reads the small print.
Santa was just the starter pack.
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