A Brief History of Making and Breaking New Year’s Resolutions
4000 years of committing to and falling off the wagon of self-improvement.
Ah, the New Year’s resolution. That emotionally-charged promise to never skip leg day or lectures, to learn French or frugality. Born of ambition and more than a little champagne on December 31st, only to face constant threats to its survival when reality hits and the year’s-end motivation wears off. Whether or not yours has made it through the early weeks of 2023, the practice of making self-improvement resolutions is synonymous with marking the end of one year and the beginning of the next, going hand in hand with parties, music and alcohol. While the music and drinks differ from year to year, the New Year’s resolution has been a staple of the celebration for millennia.
The earliest records of this practice come from 4000 years ago when the ancient Babylonians observed a 12-day festival known as Akitu to mark the beginning of the crop planting season. During this time, people would crown a new king or renew their vows of loyalty to the current one. Most interestingly, people would also make promises to return borrowed farming equipment and repay their debts. The Babylonians believed their gods would hold them to their word—if someone were to break their promise, they would incur the wrath of the divine. Think about that next time you say there’s too much pressure to keep to your New Year’s resolution.
Around 450 B.C., the Romans began to think of January as the beginning of the year. The month was named after Janus, the Roman god of beginnings, thresholds and change. On coins and other artwork that exist from the period, Janus is portrayed as having two heads facing in opposing directions: one looking into the past and the other turned towards the future. This represents the spirit of the New Year’s resolution, combining both reflection on things past and hope for what is to come. To mark the beginning of the year, the Romans offered sacrifices to Janus and made promises of good behaviour.
In the 18th century, too, people came together to contemplate and resolve to live well in the New Year. This occurred most commonly in the evenings in what became known as Watch Night services. These were church vigils for people to consider their actions in the last year, make confession, and ask for divine guidance in the year to come. This tradition continues even today. Among many African-American churches, Watch Night services are associated with the Emancipation Proclamation, signed on New Year’s Day 1862, which declared the freedom of all enslaved people in the American Confederate states.
As New Year’s resolutions became increasingly common, so did jokes about people who failed to keep theirs. In 1813, a Boston newspaper poked fun at people who made ambitious New Year’s resolutions with the “full belief that they shall thus expiate and wipe away all their former faults.” That sounds about right—for as long as we have been making promises, we have broken them.
Today the most common resolutions involve lifestyle improvements. In a poll of 1000 Canadians, prioritizing fitness and nutrition was the number one goal set for 2023, followed by financial planning and career growth. However, not all resolutions have to show material outputs, with roughly 5 percent of respondents aiming to improve their relationships with loved ones. But do resolutions work? You don’t have to be a pessimist to be skeptical. Estimates suggest that up to 80 percent of people fail to keep their resolutions. There are any number of reasons for this: setting unrealistic goals, losing motivation after an initial lapse in progress, or even forgetting all about it are just some of them. Given such a dismal success rate, it’s a wonder anyone even bothers with coming up with a resolution anymore.
There is something to be said for our continued attempts at self-improvement, even when we have failed in previous years. The power of the New Year in inspiring change should not be underestimated. A 2002 study found that the success rate among people who made New Year’s resolutions was over ten times higher than that of people who had a vague idea of changing their behaviour but didn’t make a resolution. Having a concrete goal to which you have committed yourself is perhaps a more effective strategy for success than simply speculating on change.
Resolutions can encourage us to reflect on the year that has passed and how we would like to live our lives in the one that is to come. Even if our vows to hit the gym every day or get straight A’s fall flat, the decision to incorporate fitness into our routine or improve our study strategies doesn’t have to go to waste. Perhaps the trick to progress lies in flexibility and forgiveness. Rather than setting a single rigid, ambitious goal, completing a number of realistic baby steps may be easier and prevent the whole thing from feeling too overwhelming. Getting a 4.0 GPA may sound daunting, but reviewing class material regularly or setting aside a little time every week to work on assignments may be more doable.
The point is not to get discouraged when we fall off the wagon. It’s almost inevitable. There are 365 days in a year, and some of those days will be better suited to self-improvement than others. Sometimes we feel unproductive or uninspired, and that’s okay. Think of it as a rest day where you allow yourself to relax, to make sure you don’t damage your resolution-fulfilling muscles. Working towards improvement may not always be convenient, but it shouldn’t be a punishment either. These rest days can be an opportunity to reflect on the purpose of the resolution in the first place.
If you made a resolution this New Year, you’re following a long tradition of reflection and meaningful change that has lasted at least 4000 years. If you’ve already broken yours, don’t sweat it—we’ve been doing that for just as long. Each day is another opportunity to follow through on the promise we made to ourselves, and if we find ourselves having arrived at December 31st once again with nothing to show for it, there’s always next year.