I’ve been around long enough to know that New Year’s resolutions are the participatory theater of self-improvement. Every January 1st, millions of people perform the ritual of promising to transform themselves, and by February most of them are back to eating Doritos on the couch, having convinced themselves that “next year will be different.”
Let me save you the trouble of pretending this time will magically work out.
Only 1 in 4 people make it past 30 days. By six months, you’re down to maybe 30-40% still pretending they remember what they resolved to do. For the rest muttering vague promises about “getting in shape” or “being more organized,” the success rate is closer to the odds of winning money on a lottery ticket.
The same train wreck happens every January:
You announce you’re going to “get healthy” without defining what that means. Your brain has no idea what to do with that information.
You go from zero to hero overnight. No exercise to gym six days a week. This is the equivalent of deciding to run a marathon tomorrow when you haven’t jogged since high school.
You think willpower is a superpower. It’s not. Willpower is that friend who shows up enthusiastic for the first week and then ghosts you when things get hard. You need systems, routines, triggers, not motivational speeches.
You quit after one setback. Miss two workouts and suddenly you’ve “failed.” You treat your resolution with the same all-or-nothing energy as a teenager who declares they’ll never speak to their parents again after being grounded.
What Actually Works (If You Insist on Torturing Yourself)
Pick ONE thing. Not five. Not “transform my entire existence.” One concrete goal. Walk 20 minutes a day. That’s it. Not lose 20 pounds AND meditate AND write a book AND quit sugar AND learn Mandarin.
Make it so specific a robot could do it. “Write 200 words every morning.” “No phone in the bedroom after 10 PM.” Binary. Did it or didn’t do it. No wiggle room for “well, I sort of tried.”
Attach it to something you already do. After your morning coffee, write. After dinner, walk. Your brain loves patterns. Give it one.
Remove the obstacles. Lay out your workout clothes the night before. Keep your running shoes by the door. Delete the food delivery apps if you’re trying to cook more. Make the good choice the easy choice.
Plan for when you screw up. Because you will. The rule is simple: never miss twice. Miss one workout? Fine. Life happens. Miss two? Now you’re forming a new habit, and it’s the wrong one.
Stop calling them resolutions. Call them experiments.
“I’m going to try reading for 10 minutes before bed for 30 days and see what happens.”
Experiments can be adjusted. Experiments can fail and teach you something. Resolutions just make you feel bad about yourself when you don’t keep them.
I’m not making resolutions because I’ve spent decades building systems that work for me. I write every day because I’ve structured my life around writing. I stay active because I’ve found activities I don’t hate. I keep learning because I’m curious, not because I made a promise to myself on an arbitrary date.
Spoiler: it won’t be different unless you change the approach.
So here’s my offer: tell me one thing you actually want to accomplish, and I’ll turn it into a concrete, specific plan that doesn’t require you to become a different person overnight. No vague promises. No fairy dust. Just a simple system you might actually follow.
Or don’t. Keep making the same resolutions you made last year. I’ll see you in February when you’re back to your regular routine, wondering why willpower failed you again.
The Ten Most Bizarre New Year’s Resolutions Ever Made
New Year’s resolutions are usually boring. Lose weight. Save money. Be nicer to people. Yawn.
But sometimes people get creative. Sometimes they get weird. And sometimes they go completely off the rails and make resolutions so strange you have to wonder what they were drinking when midnight struck.
Here are ten of the most bizarre New Year’s resolutions ever recorded:
1. Stop Killing People (Serial Killer Edition)
In 1978, serial killer Ted Bundy reportedly told a friend he was resolving to “start fresh” in the new year. He killed at least 30 more people after that. Turns out “be a better person” requires slightly more effort when you’re a psychopath.
2. Eat Only White Food
A British man named David Hopkins resolved in 2009 to eat only white or beige foods for an entire year. Bread, pasta, potatoes, chicken. He claimed it was about “simplicity.” His doctor called it “nutritional insanity.” He made it seven months before his body staged a mutiny and he ended up in the hospital with scurvy. A disease that sailors got in the 1700s. Congratulations, David, you time-traveled backwards in health.
3. Never Sit Down
In 1882, a New York banker named Charles Osborne resolved to never sit down for the entire year. He stood at his desk. He stood at dinner. He stood in church. He made it six weeks before his knees gave out and he collapsed during a business meeting. His colleagues found him on the floor, still clutching his standing desk manifesto.
4. Communicate Only in Song
A woman in Seattle resolved in 2015 to speak only in song lyrics for a month. Every conversation. Every interaction. “How are you today?” She’d respond with “I’m Walking on Sunshine!” This lasted exactly four days before her husband threatened divorce and her coworkers staged an intervention. Apparently there’s no song lyric for “Please stop, this is unbearable.”
5. Become a Tree
A performance artist in Germany resolved in 2003 to “become one with nature” by standing motionless in a park for eight hours a day, every day, for a year. He dressed in brown and green, didn’t speak, and let birds nest in his hair. Local authorities kept trying to have him removed for vagrancy until they realized he was just committed to being the world’s worst statue. He made it three months before a squirrel bit him and he decided human civilization wasn’t so bad.
6. Never Use Pronouns
A linguistics professor resolved in 1994 to eliminate all pronouns from his speech for a year. No “I,” no “you,” no “he,” no “she.” Every sentence became an exercise in verbal gymnastics. “Would the professor have dinner with the professor’s wife?” His wife left him in March. Can’t say “the professor” blames “the professor’s wife.”
7. Only Walk Backwards
A man in India resolved in 2011 to walk backwards everywhere for 365 days to “see the world from a new perspective.” He claimed it was enlightening. His medical records show seven concussions, two broken bones, and one incident where he backed into a sacred cow and caused a neighborhood riot. Perspective achieved. Dignity destroyed.
8. Speak Every Sentence as a Question
A radio DJ in Australia resolved in 2008 to end every sentence as a question for three months. Every statement, every declaration, turned into an interrogative. “I’m going to the store?” “That’s a great idea?” His therapist asked him to stop because it was making the therapy sessions unworkable. How do you counsel someone who turns every insight into a question?
9. Live as a Victorian Gentleman
A tech worker in San Francisco resolved in 2016 to live as a complete Victorian gentleman for a year. Top hat, pocket watch, calling cards, speaking in formal 19th-century English. He insisted women address him as “sir,” refused to use any technology invented after 1900, and tried to pay for coffee with gold sovereigns. He was fired in February when he told his female boss she was being “unladylike” during a performance review. Turns out time-traveling your personality doesn’t exempt you from sexual harassment policies.
10. Never Say “Yes” or “No”
A philosophy student resolved in 2013 to never say “yes” or “no” for an entire year, claiming it would force deeper thinking. Every question became a philosophical maze. “Want coffee?” “Perhaps the concept of want requires examination.” “Are you coming to dinner?” “The nature of presence is complex.” His friends stopped inviting him anywhere by March. He called this a success. Everyone else called it insufferable.
The Pattern Here
You notice what all these resolutions have in common? They’re not about actual improvement. They’re about spectacle. They’re about being interesting instead of being better. They’re performance art disguised as self-help.
The guy eating only white food wasn’t trying to be healthier. He was trying to have a story to tell at parties. The woman singing everything wasn’t improving her communication skills. She was making everyone around her miserable for attention.
Real change is boring. Real change is “I’m going to walk 20 minutes a day.” Real change is “I’m going to call my mother once a week.” Real change doesn’t make you the center of attention at dinner parties.
So if you’re making a New Year’s resolution this year, ask yourself: Am I trying to improve my life, or am I trying to become an anecdote? Because if it’s the latter, just save yourself the trouble and make up a story about the time you walked backwards into a sacred cow. Same result, less effort, no concussions.
Happy new year!
