A Gift Without a Receipt

From an economic point of view, money gives the recipient the maximum freedom of choice.

A gift, however, does more than transfer value. It says:

I thought about you.

I noticed what you like.

I want to share the occasion.

So money is appropriate where it is customary, expected or explicitly agreed. In other cases it can sound like a refusal to choose — though it is far more useful than a third kettle.

A wish list solves part of the problem. It preserves the giver’s freedom to choose from a suitable set and reduces the risk of supplying someone with a fresh obligation to store an unwanted object.

A good gift takes into account:

• the recipient’s interests;
• whether there is room for it;
• whether it needs maintenance;
• whether it can be exchanged;
• the relationship;
• the context of the occasion;
• a size that does not create a debt.

Books, tickets and courses are not universally inexhaustible goods. A person may lack the time, the interest or the desire to take that particular course.

Emotions require compatibility too. A parachute jump is a vivid experience, but a fairly aggressive way to test the gratitude of someone afraid of heights.

On receiving a bad gift, you do not have to invent a legend about a long-held dream on the spot. Thanking the giver for the thought is enough:

Thank you for thinking of me.

If the relationship is close and the situation keeps repeating, it is better to mention your preferences gently or suggest wish lists. Otherwise one person spends years choosing carefully and the other spends years practising as an actor.

A gift does not have to be perfect. It only has to remain a gift rather than an exam for both sides.

Which is why it matters to notice the moment when a gift stops being a token of attention and starts being written up, after the fact, as a transaction.

Usually this is a good thing: exchange strengthens relationships and lets people help each other without paying immediately for every small thing.

But an excessive or unexpectedly expensive gift can create an implicit obligation.

It is worth being wary if the giver:

• stresses the price;
• reminds you of what he has done;
• expects rapid closeness;
• asks for a favour unrelated to the gift;
• gets angry at a refusal;
• claims that you now owe him.

A gift stops being a gift when the terms are announced after it has been accepted.

You can decline the object, return it, or say plainly:

I accept this only on the basis that it carries no obligations.

Asking for a favour is normal. So is reciprocating. But not every act of help has to be compensated with an equivalent service. Sometimes thanks are enough, sometimes a willingness to help later, sometimes payment.

A gift has a second price, and the recipient pays it. A large vase from relatives takes up space, needs dusting, and cannot be put away while the relatives are alive and visiting. Ten years on its value to the recipient is negative, and refusing it was impossible: the refusal would have been discussed for longer than the vase is worth. A wish list is therefore not bureaucracy but a way of not handing someone a new obligation dressed up as attention.

The same goes for gifts that require maintenance: an animal, a plant, a device with a subscription, a membership with a timetable. An object is given, but a schedule is handed over, and the second is usually the more expensive of the two.