Halloween Magic: How an Ancient Tradition Reminds Us That Yes, People Will Mask to Feel Safe
Halloween is fast approaching.
Everyone, everywhere, is sipping pumpkin spice lattes, carving jack o’lanterns, bingeing on fun size candy (gone in one bite, what’s fun about that?) and buying up the costumes they’ll carefully repackage and return on November 1 to Spirit Halloween.
An awful lot of those costumes include masks.
How strange, when the vast majority of people have laid waste to masking as a public health practice.
We’ve all heard their excuses.
“Masks are too uncomfortable.”
“They make it hard to breathe.”
“They make me sweat and cause acne.”
“They make it hard to hear what people are saying.”
“It’s just not normal to mask. We need to move on, need to see smiles.”
And now that people who may or may not be immigration officers are able to cover their faces and grab people off the street without any consequence, I’m also hearing a self-righteous chorus of “Oh I no longer mask in public because I don’t want to risk being associated with those horrible people” from folks who stopped masking back in 2021 the minute mandates ended.
And yet, for one night of the year, all those excuses fall away. The magic of Halloween transforms masks into something people are not just willing to tolerate, but warmly embrace.
And I get it. As a Generation X kid, I loved Halloween. I loved the costumes, even though they were garbage.
Back in the 70s and 80s, there was no Spirit Halloween with warehouses full of every kind of costume imaginable. Just a section at the grocery store of children’s costumes in a box. There was never much of a variety. Your choices were often limited to a handful of options. If you hit a store that had more than just the standard witch, pirate, princess, and Casper the Ghost or Scooby Doo costumes, you were one lucky kid.
Each included a full-face plastic character mask, painted with the finest lead paint available. These delightful things were strapped onto our heads with a single strand of elastic, which was attached to the inside of the mask on both sides with metal staples that would scratch up our delicate little child faces. They had nice, sharp holes cut out for the eyes, nostrils, and mouth, which gave us all the irresistible urge to poke the tips of our tongues through them. Inevitably, we'd slice up our tongues doing so and once we’d take the masks off, we’d have blood smeared around our mouths. This convinced our parents someone had stuffed razor blades inside our Halloween candy, so they’d take it away from us to eyeball it for safety purposes, then eat it themselves just to be sure.
It gets better. Along with the mask, you got a nice colorful set of plastic flammable overalls with a picture of your character on the belly. That way when the flimsy elastic strap broke on your mask (which took all of two seconds once it came out of the box) you’d try to shove it back into the little staples, which would cut your fingers up, so your parents would take the mask away from you, and your overalls would have to serve as a backup.
So you’d be out there ringing doorbells like “hey what’s up, this is my regular face but trust me, I’m a Care Bear and here’s the proof – a picture of a Care Bear here on my gut, this fucking sucks, I blame my parents.”
One year my grandmother surprised my brother and I with a couple of costumes she’d made at home on her sewing machine. Like a couple of ingrateful little assholes, we both cried at the sight of them. Her costumes were amazing, but we didn’t want to wear them.
We wanted the same shitty costumes-in-a-box that all of our friends were wearing.
Those costumes were trash, but we loved them.
You youngsters don’t know how we Generation X kids suffered for you at Halloween each year. We literally shed blood for you. Our own experiences with disappointing and dangerous masks led us to demand better options once we grew up and had our own little Millenials.
Halloween masks have come a long way since then. Now if you want to be Darth Vader, you can buy the entire helmet and wear it all night long. If you want to be Spider Man, you can slide a red spandex covering with mesh eye holes over your head. If you want to be Freddy Kreuger, you can slap on a fitted latex mask and adjust it with your hands till it fits like a glove, preferably before you put on the actual Freddy Kreuger glove with razor blade fingers.
When shopping for such costumes, you can almost hear the voices of your Generation X ancestors in the marketing blurbs and descriptions on the packaging.
“See-through eye holes for optimal visibility.”
“Doesn’t restrict movement.”
“Made with non-toxic, non-flammable materials.”
“Breathable and comfortable.”
It was important enough to all of us that we continue being able to wear masks at Halloween, so the best and brightest minds in the costume design industry got to work on developing better products with a greater range of choices for the consumers who buy them.
In spite of these improvements, let’s face it – covering your head in a plastic helmet or a full latex mask is still going to be uncomfortable to some degree. You’ll still get sweaty. You might not be able to speak or hear as clearly as you would without it. You’ll likely feel some resistance when breathing. People wear those masks anyway.
It’s not so different from when we first began masking in the spring of 2020 as a mitigation against SARS-CoV-2. Since N95s and even disposable surgical masks had to be preserved for healthcare workers back in the early days, our first generation of pandemic masks were pretty primitive. We cut up old clothing and used scraps of crafting fabric to make our own cloth masks. They weren’t very comfortable nor breathable, but they were good enough to serve as source control when all of us were wearing them.
By the summer of 2020, we were able to grab up boxes of disposable surgical masks once they were available for sale to the general public. Baggy blues were also provided to us for free in public places that adhered to masking mandates. Those were more breathable and felt more legit than the raggedy ass Def Leppard 1999 Euphoria tour t-shirts we’d cut up and strapped to our faces up until that point. Still, many folks couldn’t always get surgical masks to fit perfectly and often wore them with gaps that compromised their effectiveness. The pressure from the ear straps could also become uncomfortable during extended periods of use. And silly humans, many wore them beneath their noses or chins, but somehow expected that to count as valid protection for themselves and others.
It wasn’t until early 2021 – almost a full year into the pandemic – when the shortage of N95s for healthcare workers had fully resolved and consumers could buy them directly. By that point, many of us had done our homework and were better informed. We knew N95s provided superior protection to every other type of mask we’d been using, offered more comfort and breathability, as well as a better fit and seal thanks to bendable nose clips and straps that went around the head instead of just the ears.
Our masks had evolved. We finally had access to the best stuff available! For a short time, the CDC began recommending N95s and was sharing educational videos and infographics about how to wear them. It was around the same time when the first Covid vaccines became available. With healthcare workers, seniors and other folks in the high-risk category prioritized, the rollout took place over an extended period of time. It took a few more months before all adults had access to vaccines, but once they did, our president at the time decided to call it a day and declare the pandemic over.
In a move driven purely by economic priorities that were far out of alignment with the science that had informed our pandemic response up until that point, we were told in May 2021 that if we’d been vaccinated, we could unmask and get back to normal.
We all know how that went. In the months following the Great Unmasking, the initial Omicron BA.1 wave followed – the biggest wave of the entire pandemic to date. Most folks quickly learned through their own personal experiences that vaccines did not prevent infections, nor did they break chains of transmission.
Next came the “but if you’re vaccinated and got Covid, you’ll have hybrid immunity now!” messaging, which many people took to mean they’d have superior protection against the virus and wouldn’t have to worry about Covid ever again.
We all know how that went, too. Hybrid immunity didn’t last long. Most people quickly discovered they were vulnerable to reinfection within a matter of months, and witnessed Covid spreading again among their family and friend groups, in their workplaces, schools, and other public settings where masking had been dropped.
We’re almost five years into this vicious cycle. Covid continues to claim lives. It continues to cause new disabilities and chronic illness. Our vaccine access is now endangered, meaning many Americans will have to forego the protection they offer against severe acute illness. You’d think now would be a good time for folks to re-evaluate the cavalier approach of accepting constant exposure to a virus which does nothing at all to benefit us. It only causes harm.
Most everyone remembers how well masks worked when we all had to wear them. Many know we now have superior options for masking with N95 respirators. We've come a long way from the cloth and baggy blues masks we had at the beginning.
Yet many people remain resistant to the idea of returning to masking in public to protect themselves and others.
And it isn’t because masks are uncomfortable. It isn’t because they make it hard to breathe or hard to be understood when speaking. It isn’t because of sweating and fears of acne or whatever. If all of those consequences of masking were truly that unbearable, it’s hard to imagine people would be willing to subject themselves to such suffering, even for one long night of Halloween festivities.
You’d think with the new mainstream aversion to masking, the costume mask industry would collapse. It hasn’t. Spirit Halloween’s net worth last year was close to $2 billion.
Maybe it’s worth considering why people are willing to wear masks for Halloween. Why are they willing to accept whatever discomfort or consequences arise from costume masks, but rebuke masking as a public health mitigation?
The answer isn’t so surprising. The tradition of Halloween masking dates back to the Celtic pagan festival of Samhain, which began over 2,000 years ago. The festival marked the end of harvest season and the transition into winter, the darker half of the year. The veil between the living and the dead was thought to be the thinnest on October 31st, so people wore masks to fit in among the spirits. That way evil spirits would pass them by, believing they were fellow disembodied souls and not actual humans they could haunt for sport.
So 2,000 years ago, people gathered together, built bonfires, ate and drank, and then put on masks for the night to feel safe.
In the present day and time, people do all the same things, for the same underlying motivation.
It makes them feel safe.
Just not for the same reasons it made the Celtics feel safe. Now, people wear costumes on Halloween night because all their peers do. When they gather for the festivities of the evening, it’s the normal, expected behavior to show up in costumes and masks.
Belonging to a social group is what gets folks invited to the party in the first place, so most don't want to risk standing out from the crowd once they show up.
It's the fitting in and belonging that makes us feel safe.
The following day, they'll wake up and cast off into a world where a SARS-CoV-2 pandemic is still underway. Yet they'll go to work unmasked. They'll shop for groceries unmasked. They'll go to their doctor’s office unmasked.
Nobody else is masking in those settings, so they don’t either.
Human beings have an innate need for social safety. Standing out from the crowd threatens the security of belonging. Fitting in soothes the soul. The drive for conformity is so overwhelming for most people, they’ll defy logic just to satisfy their need to fit in.
Want to see an example of it in action? Watch this 2-minute clip of the famous elevator experiment. A young lady steps into an elevator to find a crowd of people are already inside. To her surprise, they all turn away from the sliding doors to face the back of the elevator. It makes no sense whatsoever, but you can see the alarm on the subject’s face.
They must know something I don't.
Without knowing why, and without questioning or challenging what everyone else is doing, she turns away from the doors to face the wall as well.
It’s a powerful case study in groupthink, which happens when the desire for belonging leads to irrational – and sometimes harmful – behavior. Groupthink seeks to push out any challenge to the group’s norms. It overrides critical thinking in the name of consensus. It’s all about the comfort of the collective. It protects emotions, not people, from threats.
No one should have to choose between physical safety and social safety, but this is the very choice that has been forced upon each of us since the pandemic was prematurely declared over. And every day since, most people are so overwhelmed by the power of groupthink, they continue to choose against their own best interests.
Thankfully, people can break free from groupthink and change their minds.
Maybe Halloween this year will spark some different thinking. It isn’t ghosts, demons, and creatures of the night we need to fear. It’s airborne pathogens like SARS-CoV-2, which is increasingly causing us harm as it circulates unchecked. Maybe as people don their costume masks and flock to gatherings, they’ll be reminded that masking isn’t all that outrageous a practice. Maybe they’ll consider that if they can survive the temporary discomforts of wearing masks for the sake of festivities, traditions, and belonging, then protecting their health and their community are reasons just as valid for masking.
Probably not, but one can hope.
The latest Gallup Poll (March 2025) on Covid shows that it’s actually just 54% of Americans who never mask anymore. That’s roughly half of us, which is not an overwhelming majority.
Among the Americans who continue to mask, 5% say they ‘always’ or ‘very often’ do, while 13% report they ‘sometimes’ do. Another 13% report they mask ‘rarely.’
In the absence of sweeping mandates or even credible guidance from government and health authorities, this data suggests a lot of these folks are masking voluntarily.
Which tells me that many people still believe that masking works. Many remain willing to wear them in some situations, if not all.
Those who wear them ‘rarely’ or ‘sometimes’ may be doing so in settings where masks are required. It's not an ideal motivation, yet not a terrible thing. Even for those who don't believe masking benefits them or others, most are still willing to comply with a mandate. No doubt they realize they could throw a tantrum if they wanted to and fight for their right to spread disease, maybe even win in the moment. But they know they’d be labeled an asshole, and would risk being uninvited from places they need to be and people they depend on to get by. There would be no victory for them if that were the case.
Because belonging is important. Protecting yourself from exclusion is important.
Social safety is extremely important. It’s just as important as the physical safety we strive for when we mask up to protect ourselves and our communities from Covid and other airborne pathogens.
We shouldn’t have to choose.
I wonder what will happen at the stroke of midnight, as Halloween fades into the past for another year. Will it be like Cinderella’s stagecoach that immediately turns back into a pumpkin? Will masks instantly become a burden once more? Will people ask others to unmask for pictures? Will they gang up intervention-style on those still in costume and come at them with thoughtful lines like “look man, Halloween is over. Don't you think it's time to move on?"
Who knows.
All I know is that on November 1st, people will go back into public spaces unmasked and surrender to groupthink once again.
It’s a tough force to shake.
Yet those of us who mask do it every time we set foot in public.
All it takes is the sight of one person in the room wearing a mask to disrupt the power of groupthink. It’s just enough to put the thought in others’ heads:
They must know something I don’t.
All it takes is one masked person to signal to others who want to mask again, or mask more often, that they wouldn’t be alone in doing so.
And when the social safety of belonging is a key consideration in how people choose to move forward, all it takes is one masked person to make any public space a place where people in masks belong.
Keep going.
In good humor and solidarity,
Guiness Pig
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