Promises, promises, promises

When they’re everywhere, this time of year, how do you swear off these as a resolution?

One of my friends recently announced to me that he was going to get fit in 2017. Another promised she would eat more sensibly starting this week. And I read about others who proclaimed this next calendar year they would be kinder, more forthright, better listeners, less ideological, more philanthropic and take up volunteering – all noble objectives, I should add. Eventually somebody asked me if I’d made any resolutions. Well, I chickened out. I chose a kind of joke, one of my father’s regular Jan. 1 comebacks to the question.

“Yup,” I said. “My resolution is to … not make any resolutions!”

And actually, I mean it. Over many years of considering the gesture of making a resolution, I’ve concluded it’s a pretty hollow commitment. I’m afraid this time of year has become far too cluttered by confessions of excess, proclamations of improvement, and pronouncements of changing one’s ways. Too many people, I think, believe by going public with an attempt to turn over a new leaf (and too frequently, it’s celebrities) that they can therefore make it happen (or generate more social media). Believing that one can change, in their view, somehow ensures that one can. Well, I’m not convinced.

Let me deal with the history of resolutions, for a second. In case anybody asks, making resolutions is both a Western and Eastern phenomenon. However, according to author Doug Lennox’s book “Now You Know Big Book of Answers,” Babylonians first promised their gods at the beginning of the calendar year that they would return things they had borrowed and repay their debts.

In Medieval times, as the old year was ending, knights made what was called a “peacock vow” to reaffirm their dedication to chivalry. And Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year, encourages its followers to atone for any wrongdoings and to ask forgiveness. I think it’s fair to sum up resolutions as a form of self-improvement, committing to becoming a better person.

I think, however, the notion is flawed to begin with. Have you noticed, for example, how many resolutions are based on “doing without”? “I’ll eat less chocolate,” we say, or “I’ll be more generous,” or “I’ll be more frugal,” or “I’ll cutback my cell phone use.” The rationale becomes – with each New Year as a clean slate – to try consuming fewer candy bars, to try to donate more time/money/attention, to try to turn lights off or the thermos down, or to try to do without the mobile phone.

But if after a valiant attempt, (and when everybody’s forgotten about the promise anyway) the one making the resolution goes back to the old ways, what does it matter? There’s no one there to police it. There’s no tangible consequence for failing. In other words, going back to the sweets, selfishness, waste and mobile phone dependence has no consequence. It’s an empty commitment.

NBC News reported a survey based on recent Google data, which showed the most popular resolutions were: get healthy (up 14 per cent from last year); be more organized (down seven per cent); live life to the fullest (up 13 per cent); learn a hobby (up almost five per cent); spend less or save more (up almost 18 per cent); travel more (about the same); and read more (down five per cent from last year). NBC concluded there was nothing new here. Every year everybody plans to go to the gym, plan more and try stuff they haven’t. But little changes.

I remember some of my own youthful resolutions. They seemed important at the time. But most had very little consequence. One year, when I considered myself a dedicated poet, I told my equally aspiring poetic friends that I would write a brand new haiku poem every single day for a year. It was a struggle, and sometimes I ended up writing a couple of haiku a night to catch up. But I did it.

Most of the 365 poems were garbage, but I’d lived up to my resolution. Another time at college, I said I would quit smoking by the end of the winter semester. Well, that was the semester I graduated from Ryerson University and since most of the cigarettes I smoked were those I’d bummed from my classmates, I figured the cigarette supply would dry up about the time my deadline arrived. Fortunately, I followed through on that resolution.

According to an American website, Business Insider, the top six resolutions in 2017 are: save more money (almost half those surveyed planned to put aside more of their paycheques); be less stressed (about one-third those asked); eat healthier; and, learn something new (about a quarter surveyed said they would sign up for more courses, get more training, or explore a subject they’d never tried before.

As I said before, the unfortunate truth about resolutions is that one can always shrug failure off as a valiant attempt. Or just promise to take another stab at it next New Year’s Day.


About Ted Barris

Ted Barris is an accomplished author, journalist and broadcaster. As well as hosting stints on CBC Radio and regular contributions to the national press, he has authored 18 non-fiction books and served (for 18 years) as professor of journalism/broadcasting at Centennial College in Toronto. He has written a weekly column/webblog - The Barris Beat - for more than 30 years.

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