Like many other jaded millennials with hyperactive minds, I arrived at the conclusion about three years ago that suddenly setting out new (or old...?) goals to tackle every 31st of December wasn't really for me.

I've found I tend to lose interest in most things quickly anyway - and the thought of adding yet another guaranteed failure to an already-long personal list would likely just widen the possibility for more mental self-flagellation. No thanks. 

Besides, if one has already decided that something will benefit their life (for example, finally putting trite and anaemic differentiations between "real" and "un-real" music to rest, and embracing the magic of Taylor Swift's discography), why wait till the 1st of January to make a change?

But that's a personal take, of course - and both a highly unoriginal one, as well as one I have zero desire to impose onto others.

Age brings with it less self-pity (or so I hope), and turning outwards, I've recently found myself deriving a fair bit of fascination and fun from the observation of what makes it onto the New Year's resolutions of those around me. Letting that run even further, however, I've also allowed myself to wonder about how exactly resolution-making came about, as well as, er, the birth of 1 January. 

Disclaimer again: This is neither a groundbreaking deep dive into history, nor a hot take - just a real-time paper trial of a curious 27-year old (who is otherwise duty-bound to write about cars, and crack his brain open every quarter to ponder about the upcoming COE quota period). Please bear with him. 

The birth of New Year's resolution-making: Babylon, Rome, and the modern calendar

After browsing a few sites including The Times (UK), History.com, Merriam Webster, and course, Wikipedia, it would appear that the idea of commemorating the crossing over of a new year was first linked to the Babylonians, some 4,000 years ago. (These are what Western-based records indicate at least. Chinese New Year definitely counts as a renewal - but I'd argue resolution-making isn't really its remit.)

A new year was celebrated not on 1 January, however, but sometime in March. Unsurprisingly, the occasion had both agricultural and religious links, as it marked the start of the farming season. The period of celebration was also more broadly known as the spring festival (named ‘Akitu'), which included religious observances where rituals and communal feasting were carried out. 

Crucially, Akitu saw the Babylonians making promises to the gods "to pay their debuts and return any objects", in order to earn the favour of their pagan gods.

These promises, in turn, have been taken by some historians as the "forerunners of our New Year's Resolutions" (History.com).

And... that January reset?

For the genesis of 1 January, we have to turn our attention to the establishment of the Julian calendar by Julius Caesar in 45 B.C. as a reform of the preceding Roman calendar.

This officially designated January as the first month of the calendar year ('January' as a month had existed for a few centuries prior. The name is derived from 'Janus', the dual-faced Roman god of beginnings). 

Due to an error in calculation by Julius Caesar (this is the brilliant man we largely owe 1 Jan to), we no longer use the Julian calendar, but it's worth noting that this helped usher in the standard calendar we operate on today - also known as the Gregorian calendar. 

Also worth noting is that even after 1st of January was established, New Year's Day was still celebrated throughout various societies and cultures at different times (medieval Christian Europe apparently placed emphasis on Christmas or Thanksgiving at different times and places; March was also still accepted as the start of a new year). 

As the Gregorian calendar was more widely adopted, however, so too did the practice of making new year’s resolutions start to spread across the 19th and 20th centuries. 

As a final note, we're writers after all, so understanding the birth of actual terms (apart from their fundamental concepts) is also important. And according to Merriam-Webster, the lexical connection between "new year" and "resolutions" appears to have been concretised for the first time on record in the January 1st issue of a Boston newspaper from 1813. Here is the excerpt:

“And yet, I believe there are multitudes of people, accustomed to receive injunctions of new year resolutions, who will sin all the month of December, with a serious determination of beginning the new year with new resolutions and new behaviour, and with the full belief that they shall thus expiate and wipe away all their former faults.”

Resolution-making today: More than just frivolous declarations?

Something I've really enjoyed about these sites is the tongue-in-cheek way in which they unanimously address how resolutions are relentlessly broken. Some examples:

“Despite the tradition's religious roots, New Year’s resolutions today are a mostly secular practice. Instead of making promises to the gods, most people make resolutions only to themselves, and focus purely on self-improvement (which may explain why such resolutions seem so hard to follow through on).”

– History.com

“Not only were people making resolutions 200 years ago, but they were also breaking them and using them as excuses for bad behaviour before the New Year, much like today.”

– Merriam Webster

In fact, one's scepticism towards making resolutions might even be amplified knowing that they are actively being weaponised for capitalistic profit. (This source outlines health-focused businesses, particularly, as likely beneficiaries of the start of a new year.)

Nonetheless, beyond the hype of declaring what you want to do in the new year in a Tweet (my age is showing; I deactivated my account long before it became X) or in a catch-up with friends, it might appear that resolution-making actually… works to the nature (benefit, in fact?) of the human brain.

It's not just the psychology of what makes or breaks resolutions, by the way (though these are helpful for sure). More important may be the recognition that our brains simply tend naturally towards segmenting time. Here are lifted excerpts again, from BBC's Worklife guide that explain what's widely accepted as the 'fresh-start effect':

“Psychologists have found that, rather than seeing our life as a continuum, we tend to craft a narrative, divided into separate “chapters” that mark the different stages of our life...

“Any time you have a moment that feels like a division of time, your mind does a special thing where it creates a sense that you have a fresh start,” says Milkman. “You're turning the page, you have a clean slate, it's a new beginning.”

This helps you to create psychological distance from past failures, she says, allowing you to feel that any mistake was the "old you" and that you'll now do better."

As this source notes, it's also worth noting that "goals come from the more rational, long-term-oriented part of your brains".

I did a quick poll among my colleagues and among those who had resolutions, better health (losing weight; exercising more; cooking more) and more financial prudence (also related to the cooking) were thrown out as answers. If an objectively arbitrary, albeit psychologically fresh slate surfaces the chance for us to dig deep into what's important to us, there's no reason to resist the timeframe.

A psychological trigger to dig deeper

I’ve spent the better part of the last two weeks (the last week of December 2023 + the 1st week of January 2024, or where we are currently) seeing my friends, acquaintances and personal idols detail their growth and breadth of experiences in 2023, while scrolling through my Instagram feed.

I admit: At certain points these have sent me into a downward spiral of self-condemnation - but far more than that, overwhelmingly, I have been amazed, heartened, and inspired by every milestone that I've seen those around me documenting.

Sure, looking back on a year past is inherently different from looking out onto one that is impending - but the same idea of taking stock remains. It's not so much each individual achievement, too, but the collective surge of pride and hope that - when taken the right way - feels electrifying. 

Everyone deserves to feel proud of their wins, no matter how small or big. And if both the passage of time, as well as a routine sense of renewal, help inject some positivity into our lives, who's to deny another of that?

I'm still fairly certain that resolution-making isn't for me... and I'm really not sure if this meandering exposition so far has made any sense. But from what I've gathered at least, rather than fight the 'fresh-start effect', I might just take this as a time to organise my life mentally - and to reflect (again) on what I treasure deeply.

Happy new year everyone 🙂

All photos taken from Unsplash.com.