On a spectrum ranging from agony to ecstasy, abstinence to excess, Dry January is… fluid, contrary to its title.
The practice – call it a tradition, a resolution, a balm – is a reliable source of cultural lore. Whether you’re going completely dry, damp, or wet, you will find yourself inundated with algorithmically related content: Articles outlining the benefits of abstaining, Instagram ads for non-alcoholic spirits, Twitter (X) jokes denigrating the ‘holier-than-thou’ practice.
The point is that everyone’s talking about it. And we mean everyone.
Not only have we monetised the hell out of the well-intended stint, but it’s become a cultural totem of the calendar year: The butt of the joke, the substance of topical fodder.
And not for nothing: ‘Social norms are a major factor in changing people’s drinking behaviour with increased and reduced drinking,’ explains Dr Kenneth Leonard, PhD, director at the Research Institute on Addictions, University at Buffalo. ‘Dry January provides a social opportunity and social rewards to individuals who drink in less harmful ways… or stop completely.’
In other words, we replace peer pressure to drink with peer pressure to abstain. Influence is king, etcetera, etcetera.
In any case, there’s no flippancy to be had about addiction or substance abuse. And while Dry January can certainly provide a casual (insensitive) platform for impertinent joking about alcohol dependency, it can also spur actual change.
‘Dry January provides a permissive norm for exploring socialising without alcohol,’ says Dr Leonard. According to data he cites from a 2024 report in the National Library of Medicine, the prognosis is optimistic: ‘50% of those who participate continue with reduced drinking afterwards, and 15% abstain,’ he references.
If the goal is to eliminate (or, at least, shapeshift) drinking habits in the long term, it’s not not within reach.
‘We definitely see a spike in sales in Dry January,’ adds Mélanie Masarin, the woman behind the viral alcohol alternative Ghia. ‘A lot of people try Ghia for the first time in January, but 90% of our regular customers identify as alcohol drinkers but are seeking moderation… meaning they keep up the habit after their break.’
Then again, beyond the hedonistic pleasure that comes with drinking something (hopefully delicious) as a meal accompaniment or a social lubricant, alcohol can also act as a balm to pain, stress or anxiety. Addictive behaviour aside, abstaining is hard – especially in the throes of a month that’s so pointedly cold and dark (i.e. grim) for much of the Northern Hemisphere. In 2021, Jimmy Fallon stated on live television: ‘Thank you, news this week, for turning my “Dry January” into “We Tried January”.’
Mind you, that was just eight days into the month – a fairly standard run, as far as dry spells go. ‘For the past 14 years, it’s always the same: For the first two weeks, NO ONE drinks alcohol,’ says Tamy Rofe, who helms beloved Brooklyn restaurant Colonia Verde with her husband. ‘But, starting the third week of January, it’s almost like a collective “f*** it” takes place.’
Moreover, drinking habits are shifting substantially across generations. We’ve seen countless inflammatory headlines about declining wine sales among millennials (Gen X seemingly held its own), and now, Gen Z, the sober-curious generation, is driving that down-trend even further (while redirecting funds into a host of adaptogenic, root-based, magic-dust-infused beverages, not just during January, but year-round). ‘Year-long moderation dampens Dry January participation,’ reads one 2023 Food Business News headline… not even satirically.
At bottom, there’s no real danger for the industry here, financially speaking. Most bars and restaurants offer comprehensive non-alcohol programmes, and blow-out sales in December to leave wiggle room for leaner profits in January. ‘November and December are months of such indulgence and overspending that people need a reset, if you will. And also… “resolutions”,’ says Spenser Payne of Neighborhood Wines – a popular staple shop in Boston.
The upshot? Dry January has calcified into a household term. It’s recognised even by those choosing not to participate, thus encouraging shop owners to carry non-alcohol options and bars to up the ante on their mocktail programmes. Sobriety or not, it’s a month of more mindful, or at least self-aware, drinking for both consumers and purveyors.
Down the line, habitual moderation might just eliminate the whole foundational need for a commitment like Dry January entirely. But, either way, we need not achieve complete abstinence to see the merit in the attempt.
‘Hey team, really unfortunate update,’ begins one TikTok tagged #DryJan. ‘I’m doing Dry January, and I feel amazing.’
