From Duds to Delights: A Smart Guide to Gift Giving

’Tis the season to exchange gifts, and I am spectacularly terrible at this enterprise. Not mildly inept—comically inept. I’m unimaginative when selecting gifts for others, and I am unconvincing when feigning joy for a gift received. Thus, in the spirit of community service, I’m passing on expert advice: not from me, but from people who actually know what they’re talking about. Psychologists have spent an impressive amount of time studying gift-giving, presumably because they also have friends and relatives.

Carnegie Mellon business professor Jeff Galak describes the classic gift-giving errors. His bottom line: givers obsess over the “ta-da!” moment—surprise, creativity, and pizzazz in the split second the wrapping paper is torn away. Recipients, meanwhile, care far more about how useful the thing is once the glitter settles and the recycling bin is full.

Givers tend to overestimate the charm of their cleverness. They emphasize their thoughtfulness for personality fit. You know the line: “I was wandering a side street off Rue St. Catherine in Bordeaux when this colorful scarf screamed your name.” Never mind that he has never once seen you wear a scarf or anything that ventures a scream. His hope is that you’ll be so dazzled by the mental image of him thinking about you in southern France that you won’t notice you’re holding an accessory bound for the bottom dresser drawer, and ultimately for the Goodwill donation box.

Givers also love a “complete” gift. They’d rather buy an okay-ish set of headphones that fits their budget than contribute toward the really excellent pair you actually want. They prefer to hand you a whole, wrapped object—even if it’s a whole, wrapped compromise.

Recipients, on the other hand, lean toward versatility and feasibility over cute, quirky, or conversational. It’s lovely that you thought of her while strolling in France, but that’s your memory. She’d prefer cash toward the Sennheiser headphones, not the JVCs you heroically rescued from an Amazon Lightning Deal.

Canadian psychologist Elizabeth Dunn discovered that receiving experiences makes us significantly happier than getting tangible goods. In one study, people reported that their material Christmas gifts faded into the background in a matter of weeks, while experiential gifts—trips, concerts, lessons, anything involving a genuine moment—produced happiness with real staying power. Experiences can be anticipated, enjoyed, and retold. They often occur in the context of satisfying social relationships that enhance bonding over the joint enterprise, and they are more likely to define moments in our lives that describe who we are or whom we wish to be.  

So, if you want to make yourself happy, go ahead and surprise someone with a wildly imaginative object they never considered, and enjoy watching them grasp your offering’s uniqueness. But if you want to make the recipient happy, give them the exact model they requested or a season pass to the Atlanta Botanical Garden, where they can enjoy an experience that doesn’t have to be dusted.

How does this play out for me at Christmas? I give my young granddaughters exactly what’s on their wish list. Whether they enjoy it after it’s liberated from the packaging is anyone’s guess, and whether they remember it came from me is a coin toss. I suspect half their gifts merge anonymously into the general toy ecosystem within an hour.

For my daughters and son-in-law, I give an experience. Our extended family vacations on the South Carolina coast each summer, and I pick up the tab for accommodations. This seems to work magnificently—or perhaps they are very good actors.

Then there’s my wife. After years of mutual anguish over the “perfect” present and the “perfectly worded” card for Mother’s and Father’s Days, our anniversary, Christmas, Valentine’s Day, and our birthdays, we freed each other from the entire ordeal. We agreed we would each simply buy what we want, whenever we want it, and retire the annual mind-reading crucible. This sacred pact remains the greatest gift I have ever received, and I can express my sincere gratitude for it with a level of exuberance I’ve never managed for a single wrapped present. She feels the same.

Some people genuinely love Christmas shopping; others do it with the grim determination of a tax audit. Many families have gift-giving traditions that are either cherished or endured, and it is best not to monkey with them. If you receive yet another fruitcake—a brick with questionable digestibility—you can just add it to your growing collection of seasonal doorstops.

If you are an in-law, tread carefully. This is treacherous ground in some families. Even asking innocent questions about these rituals can cast you as the holiday miscreant and confirm every suspicion your spouse’s family already holds as indisputable truth. Don’t roll your eyes. Don’t sigh. And for goodness’ sake, don’t question the fruitcake.

After navigating these cultural landmines, you still have a genuine chance to succeed. Forget trying to impress anyone with your “thoughtful flourish.” Give the recipient exactly what she requested or money earmarked explicitly for the model she covets. Remember: experiences trump stuff. If you like the person, give her a concert ticket right beside yours. If you don’t, give him both tickets and enjoy your evening at home. And if you are uniquely blessed with a wonderful wife, do what we do: skip the ordeal entirely. It may be the greatest gift you’ll ever receive.