The Sweet Trap We Call Halloween
We would never let our kids smoke a cigarette, yet we hand them bags of candy each October and call it tradition.
Every Halloween, my social feeds remind me of a moment from 2019 that still makes me laugh and cringe a little. That year, I took up Jimmy Kimmel’s challenge and told my kids I ate all their Halloween candy. They were one and three at the time. Their reactions were priceless, a mix of shock and betrayal wrapped in toddler innocence.
Looking back now, I see that video differently. At the time, it was just a funny parenting moment. Today, it feels like an uncomfortable snapshot of a culture that treats sugary candy as harmless fun when, in reality, it is one of the most addictive and damaging substances we give our kids.
From Spirits to Superstores
Halloween started as Samhain, an ancient Celtic festival marking the end of the harvest and the beginning of winter. People dressed in costumes and lit bonfires to keep evil spirits away. Later, Christianity folded it into All Hallows’ Eve, which drifted across the Atlantic with immigrants who brought their own traditions of mischief and sweets.
But the version we know today, the costumes, the candy, the store aisles stocked since August, is a 20th-century invention thanks to capitalism. After World War II ended sugar rationing, candy companies saw a gold mine. Trick-or-treating became a marketing opportunity. By the 1950s, Halloween had transformed from a night of folklore into a national business model.
Fast forward to 2025, and Americans are spending over $13 billion dollars on the holiday. Candy alone makes up nearly $4 billion of that. The industry plans it years ahead, designing packaging, adjusting portion sizes, and advertising nostalgia to parents who grew up doing the same thing.
The Hidden Cost of the Candy Bowl
The average child collects 3,500 to 7,000 calories worth of candy on Halloween night. That is about three cups of sugar in a single haul. The American Heart Association recommends no more than 25 grams of added sugar a day for kids, about six teaspoons. One small handful of Halloween candy can triple that.
We like to tell ourselves that one night of indulgence will not hurt. Maybe, by itself, it will not. But Halloween kicks off a two-month stretch of sugar, snacks, and sedentary days that lead right into the holidays. It is part of a pattern that has helped drive childhood obesity rates from five percent in the 1970s to nearly twenty percent today.
Sugar is a slow poison. It spikes insulin, feeds inflammation, damages the liver, and wires our brains for more. Research also shows that high sugar consumption contributes to cancer risk, because of how it drives obesity and chronic inflammation that set the stage for disease. We would never let our kids smoke a cigarette, yet we hand them bags of candy each October and call it tradition.
Rewriting the Tradition
I still love Halloween. The laughter, the costumes, the social gatherings and community events around it, but I think we can admit that some elements need to be reigned in a bit. We have built an entire economy around teaching kids that fun equals candy and candy equals happiness. It does not have to.
Maybe this year, the real trick is restraint. Let them pick a few favorite pieces and toss the rest. Swap candy for small toys or simply make it disappear. Our kids will not remember how much candy they got. We want them to remember how it felt to run down the street in costume with friends and braving the spooky atmosphere.
The Takeaway
If there is a lesson in that “I ate your candy” video, it is that laughter fades, but habits stick. We can laugh at the prank and still choose to do better. Maybe the healthiest thing we can do this Halloween is to throw away more candy than we keep.
What do you think? Am I being to much of a party pooper or is it responsible that we do more to limit sugar intake of our kids? Leave a comment below and share your thoughts.
Also Happy Halloween I hope you have a spooky good evening!