The tradition of making New Year’s resolutions stretches back far beyond champagne toasts and Times Square celebrations. This practice of self-reflection and promise-making has roots reaching approximately 4,000 years into human history, beginning with ancient Babylonians and continuing through countless cultural iterations to reach our modern era.
Around 2000 B.C., Babylonians celebrated Akitu, a 12-day springtime festival marking the new year and the start of farming season. During this celebration, they crowned new kings, thanked their deities for harvests, and made promises to return borrowed agricultural equipment to their neighbors. These early resolutions were practical commitments embedded within religious celebration.
The Romans later associated January 1st specifically with resolution-making. They honored Janus, the two-faced god of beginnings and endings, with offerings and exchanged gifts like sacred tree twigs. As Alexis McCrossen, a history professor at Southern Methodist University, explains: “It was a day to make promises and offerings. I think that’s the origin of our New Year’s resolution, because a resolution is a kind of promise.”
The word “resolution” itself entered English from Latin in the late 14th century, originally meaning the “process of reducing things into simpler forms.” Over centuries, its definition expanded to include solving conflicts, remaining steadfast, and eventually expressing intent for the future. One of the earliest documented uses of “new year resolutions” appeared in a Boston newspaper in 1813, though the practice existed long before the terminology.
Religious and cultural traditions worldwide embraced the concept of new year reflection. Medieval knights participated in the “Vow of the Peacock,” an end-of-Christmas feast where they renewed chivalry vows by placing hands on a peacock. John Quincy Adams filled diary entries in the early 1800s with spiritual reflections and wishes for coming years. English writer Anne Halkett penned Bible-inspired pledges titled “Resolutions” on January 2, 1671.
However, for most of American history, January 1st held little special significance. Before England and its colonies adopted the Gregorian calendar in 1752, the new year began on March 25 under the Julian calendar. Even afterward, McCrossen notes that January 1st was “like any other day of the week,” primarily notable as the fiscal year’s beginning when people settled debts and renewed contracts.
The shift toward New Year’s as a celebration occurred gradually through the 19th century. Two major influences transformed the holiday: evangelical “Watch Night” services held late on New Year’s Eve, focusing on past shortcomings and future promises, and German immigrants who brought “Silvesterabend” traditions of celebrating December 31st with song, dance, and midnight toasts.
By the early 20th century, commercial forces recognized New Year’s Eve’s profit potential. The Times Square ball dropped for the first time in 1907, and mentions of New Year’s resolutions began appearing regularly in American newspapers. A 1914 Fort Worth Star-Telegram piece surveyed Texans about their resolution attempts. Howard Higby admitted: “I don’t remember keeping any one of a dozen I recall making.” Billie Moore declared while holding a cigarette: “Never before until today. This is my last cigarette for a year.”
Modern resolutions have evolved significantly from their religious origins. A 1947 Gallup poll revealed common goals that remain familiar today: improving character, being more efficient, stopping smoking, and saving money. However, some priorities have shifted dramatically. Goals like “get thin” and “get more sleep” ranked at the bottom then but dominate contemporary resolution lists.
People continue making New Year’s resolutions for several interconnected reasons. The practice provides a clear temporal marker for change, offering psychological permission to start fresh. The communal aspect creates shared energy and accountability as millions simultaneously commit to improvement. The tradition connects us to thousands of years of human history, linking our personal goals to ancient practices of renewal and promise-making.
McCrossen believes the midnight focus particularly energizes modern resolutions. The specific moment of transition from one year to the next creates a sense of transformation, whether marked by ball drops, midnight toasts, or quiet personal reflection. This emphasis on the precise arrival of the new year amplifies the feeling that meaningful change is possible.
The persistence of New Year’s resolutions also reflects fundamental human needs for self-improvement and hope. Regardless of whether we achieve our goals, the act of setting them affirms our belief in personal growth and our agency to shape our futures. Even as resolutions have become more secular and individualized, they maintain their ancient function as promises to ourselves and our communities.
Today’s resolutions might focus on fitness, productivity, or digital wellness rather than returning farming equipment or honoring Roman gods, but the underlying impulse remains unchanged. We use the new year as an opportunity to assess where we’ve been and commit to where we want to go.
McCrossen suggests we could benefit from embracing more historical aspects of the tradition, particularly using January 1st to reconnect with others through gatherings, calls, or handwritten notes. She also reminds us that resolutions need not be confined to one annual moment: “Each day, one could do that. It’s just that the 1st provides us with a lot of energy and community, all of us together trying to start out on a new foot.”
As we enter another January with fresh intentions, we participate in one of humanity’s oldest traditions. Whether our resolutions last a week, a month, or transform our lives permanently, we join a chain of promise-makers stretching back millennia, united in the hopeful belief that we can become better versions of ourselves.