Reading back my New Year’s resolution for this past year, I can’t help but cringe. “Party’s over and it’s time to get real,” I wrote, not remotely aware of how real it was about to get. “I’m getting married. I just don’t know to whom yet.” Three hundred sixty-five days later, I’ve met and gone out with some great guys, and some additional guys, but my ring finger is still rockless. Save no date. Choose not the chicken nor the fish. Despite my 2024 resolution, I’m still not engaged.
You may assume that I’ve come to realize that finding a spouse is not meant to be framed as a resolution, but rather as an evolution into a version of myself that’s ready for and open to committing to another soul for forever.
Except that last year, my colleague Frannie Block resolved to drink less Diet Coke, and in the past 12 months, an emerald-cut sparkler has landed on her left hand, and she and her new, lovely fiancé just came home with a Cavalier King Charles spaniel puppy.
So my main resolution for 2025? Drink less Diet Coke.
And also: read, and practice the exercises in, The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron, a self-help book for unlocking creativity that my most productive friends swear by; eat more apples, specifically the Ludacrisp ones from the farmers market by me; and read more sci-fi, a genre that I used to think was silly but now suspect holds important knowledge that might help us get through the next five years. I could go on: call my grandmother more, pray, go to Gaga dance classes, eat out less, buy fewer but higher quality single-fiber clothes like silk shirts and wool socks. But my therapist and I (Hi, Kevin!) are working on my tendency to overcommit—which feels like yet another “resolution,” but, in therapy, we call it “overcoming limiting behaviors impressed upon me during early development by my parents” (Hi, Dad!).
Seeking inspiration and guidance, I asked my fellow Free Pressers, and friends of The Free Press, to tell me their resolutions. Read what these wise people—including Abigail Shrier, Niall Ferguson, Batya Ungar-Sargon and, yes, Frannie Block—are resolving to do for themselves, for their families, and for their communities below. Whatever you’re resolving to do, or manifesting toward, or if you’re a man, optimizing for, in 2025—I invite you to commit to it in writing in the comments section! I hope you get there. And even if you don’t quite, I really do believe it will be a magnificent year for all of us. Happy New Year.
Emily Yoffe, senior editor: Notice Something Beautiful Every Day
Recently, I was walking home in the early evening when I did something I rarely do: look up at the sky. This was not because D.C. was being swarmed by drones from New Jersey, but because I suddenly realized the sky was entirely filled with row after row of soft, pink clouds. As I stood and admired, I saw others were similarly struck, pointing and photographing the quickly fading show.
This year, I am going to notice something beautiful every day, and make myself stop and appreciate these tiny, transporting moments. Like the one captured by poet William Carlos Williams in “The Red Wheelbarrow.” Like the way, this fall, the scarlet leaves stayed up for weeks until they seemed to obey a signal to carpet the sidewalk in crimson.
Nellie Bowles, queen of ‘TGIF’: Write More and Better
“TGIF” is too much fun. I get to embody an exaggerated version of myself, weigh-in on everything, tell jokes, rant for hours while sitting comfortably in a little home office and speaking to no one. And I have to admit something: It’s too easy. I do it in a few sweaty hours.
So this coming year, I want to challenge myself to write more and write deeper. That’s right: longer rants. Reported stories. What about a screenplay? I bet I could do some mediocre short fiction. These are things I think about. My resolution is to bring ambition back to my writing.
Joe Nocera, deputy managing editor: Be a Better Friend
“You have to be a friend to have a friend,” my wife, Dawn, likes to say, and she’s damn good at it. Her best friend is someone she met as a freshman in college, and they have been close ever since. No matter how busy she is, she always makes time for her friends, going to dinner with them, visiting the botanical garden with them, or just talking with them on the phone. Which is why she has a lot of them.
Me? Not so much. I’ve worked in New York since the mid-1990s, and have gotten to know lots of people I consider friends. But I rarely make the effort to stay in any kind of regular touch. It’s a void in my life that I want to belatedly fill. So starting in January, I am going to follow Dawn’s mantra, and try to be a better friend to some of the many people I’ve gotten to know and like in the 30 years I’ve been a New Yorker. So friends, don’t be surprised if you get a text from me asking if you want to join me for coffee some morning. Get used to it. It’s the new, improved me.
Niall Ferguson, columnist: Finish My Book
I resolved last year—and the year before that—to finish my biography of Henry Kissinger (pictured above). I shall resolve to do so again this year. The reason I have broken this resolution more than once is not that I have lost my mojo as a historian. It is that the task is more time-consuming than any book I have ever written before. I have accumulated material from more than a hundred archives, amounting to hundreds of thousands of documents and heaven knows how many pages. To give just one example, I have access to tapes of nearly every phone call between Kissinger and Richard Nixon from 1971 to 1973, as well as transcripts for 1969 and 1970.
At times, working through the material, I feel as if I am writing it at the same pace he lived it. However, 2025 will be the year. And it will be worth the wait, since this book will illuminate the nature of power as it is exercised by and within the American republic like nothing else I could imagine.
Olivia Reingold, reporter: Go from Nubs to Nails, for Real
In 2024, after publicly proclaiming I would quit my greatest vice, I spent the first few weeks of the New Year growing out my nails. By Valentine’s Day, they were down to nubs again. That’s because I am a chronic nail picker—yes, I’m a picker not a biter. Sometimes I look at r/nailbiting on Reddit and think, Alas, it does get worse than me. But the truth is: not by much. And although the stakes are low—nails rarely make or break an impression—I’m sick of waking up with throbbing fingertips. And therefore, I am committing to the same resolution, which has turned out to be the definitive project of my life: leaving my nails alone. No more flicking, picking, and stripping away; only manicures, an occasional file, and love.
I’m ready to do whatever it takes. If anyone has a hypnotist recommendation, send it my way. I’m even open to Big Pharma solutions. I’m not above joining a monastery, or maybe I’ll become one of those Hare Krishnas. Or perhaps I’ll have the courage to do the real work: abstaining. Here’s to doing absolutely everything and anything except messing with my nails in 2025.
Bari Weiss, founder: Go to the Gym!
I realize there is no more cliché New Year’s resolution than going to the gym, but that’s it for me in 2025. I’d like to pretend it’s just because I like things old school, and working out is a classic resolution. But the truth is rougher: I haven’t worked out in approximately three years. (Peter Attia, if you are reading this, please don’t unfriend me!)
I am not proud of this fact.
I have good excuses. Good ones. Those three years coincide with the founding and building of The Free Press and the birth of our two children. For a while, hauling them around seemed like it would be a kind of janky CrossFit. Like the Temu version of a proper high intensity interval training (HIIT) class. Then I found myself in an urgent care getting a shot of cortisone in my tush, so I could stand up straight. I believe that’s called hitting bottom—in my case, literally.
This is the year I become the kind of woman who makes time for Pilates.
Adam Rubenstein, contributing editor: Be More Expressive
My wife says I’m too monotone. Apparently, I have the vocal equivalent of resting-bitch face. So: I resolve to express a wider range of emotions vocally. Wahoo!
River Page, reporter: Go to Bed
When I first started writing five years ago, I was working a series of dead-end jobs and got into the nasty habit of scribbling until 3 in the morning. I do not sleep. I often say it’s because I write better late in the soundless night, manic off blue light from my laptop and the Red Bull sweating rings into my desk, but history shows I’m great at lying to myself—I said the same thing earlier in my career, when the Red Bull was a gin and tonic. My career survived sobering up, and now it’s time to start sleeping.
Insomniacs are great daydreamers—what other option do we have? In my fantasy, I’m the type of writer who goes to bed at 10, gets up at 6, chats with his editor (who is on London time) on the way to the gym, and starts writing at 8 a.m. In other words, a normal writer with a normal full-time job, which is what I am.
In pursuit of fulfilling this fantasy (responsibility), I have enlisted my morning-bird husband to spray me with the water bottle we use on the cats. My cousin once took an Ambien and woke up in the parking lot of a CVS, so I hope to accomplish this change without any drugs. I think, with enough time and practice, I can—this is a bad habit I made, and I shouldn’t need Big Pharma to fix it. I’ve already found a great white-noise playlist. God willing, in 2025, I will sleep a full eight hours a night.
Batya Ungar-Sargon, co-host of Free Press Live: The Holy Trinity
Be a better American and a better Jew, and if there’s anything left over, to be a better wife.
Maya Sulkin, chief of staff: Work, But Not on Myself
After getting in trouble with my therapist for Slacking during our remote sessions, last year, I vowed to switch to in-person therapy, so I could work on myself without, well, actually working. But here’s the thing: Therapists work very limited hours—I’m talking 10 to 4, my dream schedule—and they cost a lot. So, although I fell very short of my resolution in 2024 (I stopped therapy altogether), I’m richer—in both time and money.
This year, I’m sticking to a much more realistic resolution: Think about my problems less. Yes! You heard me. I’m sick of thinking about them. No more Analysis Paralysis, as my dad calls my unique style of thinking which doubles as self-torture. I’m going to Slack more than I did last year (if that’s even possible), and I’m going to take walks in the park and notice the trees, children playing, the devoted Tai Chi-ers and completely forgo aimless reflection.
Elias Wachtel, editorial fellow: Smell the Roses
As I head into my last semester of college, I’d like to—guess what?—stop and smell the roses. Time has a maddening way of slipping by without my noticing, so, in 2025, I’d like to gain some ground in the war for my attention. To that end, I have a dumb phone arriving in January to replace my iPhone. I want to get lost in thought more, get bored more—I want to look up and enjoy my surroundings rather than mindlessly scrolling as I walk to class. My friends already complain that I’m never on my phone, so, in 2025, I want to prove them right. (Sorry, everyone—it’s going to get worse.) At least until Maya notices and tells me to get back on Slack. (I figure I’ll have a few good months.)
Ben Kawaller, of Ben Meets America: Lean Into a Meet-Cute
I would love to experience an actual, real-life meet-cute—as in, a run-in with a stranger during which we both behave flawlessly and then get married.
I think what is keeping me from a meet-cute is that, unlike a Real Man, who sees what he wants and pursues it, I see what I want and turn into a 12-year-old girl. Sure, I’d love a meet-cute, but, for now, I’d settle for the ability to look a stranger in the eye for longer than the split second it takes to fall in love.
So here’s my resolution for 2025: When faced with the terrifying agony of a beautiful face, I won’t be the first to look away.
Margi Conklin, managing editor: Follow the Advice of My Old Boss
Lately, I have enjoyed watching my old journalism colleagues find a career rebirth on Substack. One of my favorites is Jo Elvin, a wisecracking dynamo from Australia, who was a force in British magazines from the late ’90s until very recently, when she launched her Substack, “My Goodness!” She was my editor at (the now defunct) New Woman UK magazine, which was a naughty and hilarious place to work during the days of Cool Britannia, but now she’s dishing out wise nuggets of midlife advice. Her recent post, “The Best Pieces of Advice I’ve Ever Had,” was particularly inspired. I am resolving to keep all 19 morsels of guidance in mind for the coming year, and start by focusing on No. 18—“practicing gratitude is not cheesy.” As Jo writes, “each night, I write down three things I’m grateful for, and three things I’m looking forward to the next day.” How hard can that be?
Peter Savodink, senior editor: Eight Things I Resolve To Do in 2025 (in this Order):
Spend more weekends alone with my wife in Paso Robles, California.
Play more chess with my 6-year-old.
Read the 12 Shakespeare plays I haven’t read.
Email my father-in-law more often; I’m continuously reminded of how much I enjoy our conversations, and wish we had more.
Take my 10-year-old to at least five Dodger games (including the play-offs, if they make it).
Host more Shabbat dinners.
Swim more with the kids off the dock in the early morning in July and August.
Up my whiskey-sour game.
Maddy Kearns, associate editor: Cold-call Friends
I’d love to cold-call friends and family more often. Just a simple: “Hello, I was just thinking of you and have some time to chat. I don’t suppose you’re free?” Seeing loved ones over Christmas reminded me that it’s too easy to go long stretches without speaking.
Evan Gardner, editorial fellow: Become a Keyboard Warrior
Despite being a proud member of Gen Z, I have yet to become part of any toxic online community. Like learning to drive (which I haven’t), understanding the fluency and frustration of online discourse is a quintessential part of growing up these days. I’m (mostly) off social media, so neither X nor Reddit is an option—but as my English-degree program comes to a close, I have rediscovered the joy of reading for pleasure. So this year, my resolution is to become an active member of Goodreads. I will obnoxiously flex my list of titles read; I will spend just as much time scrolling as actually reading; and, most importantly, I will commit wholeheartedly to debates in the comments. Watch out, fellow Goodreaders—I’m ready to put my English diploma to work and become the best toxic presence the app has ever seen.
Frannie Block, reporter: Intentionally Disconnect
In the fall, I took a trip up to Vermont and stayed in a cabin on a beautiful piece of land that had terrible cell-phone service. It was the greatest gift I didn’t know I needed.
I’m one of the older members of Gen Z who didn’t grow up with an iPad in my face, but I still treat my pieces of technology like they’re organs—like I seriously can’t live without them. I’m embarrassed to admit it, but sometimes when I don’t have my phone on me, I feel a genuine sense of anxiety.
But as I discovered in Vermont, if you tolerate the anxiety, what lies beyond is great: peace and focus, being present. So, in 2025, my resolution is to be more intentional about using my phone. When I’m at home, rather than scrolling through Twitter or Instagram, I might even pick up a book instead. And when I’m with those I love, I’ll put it away—maybe even in an entirely different room.
Abigail Shrier, contributing editor: A New Year’s Resolution for All Americans
Nothing against resolution makers, but I’ve never understood the practice. If you’ve hurt someone, surely it’s your obligation to apologize, make amends, fix what you broke—and do it now. There seems no good reason to await a new calendar year to quit drinking, compliment your spouse, or stop that insufferable habit of interrupting the telling of a good joke.
But societal-level resolutions may require the formality of a holiday. For America to do better next year, a communal taking-stock is in order, a ceremony of public vows, and holding each other to it.
A brilliant article by David Samuels of Tablet, points the way forward. Samuels argues that over the last decade, the left manufactured a false consensus through the creation of “permission structures”: a coordinated effort through social and other media to persuade people to suppress their own objections on the grounds that everyone already agreed to all sorts of radical positions, from Covid lockdowns to “sex changes” for children, to the prevalence of “structural racism,” and an epidemic of cops murdering unarmed innocents.
The temptation to manufacture consensus through tech is too great: More illusions are no doubt on the way, not all coming from the left.
In that vein, I suggest a New Year’s resolution for all Americans: Resist the lure of “everybody intelligent believes” or “everyone who loves America believes” on issues that violate common sense. Refuse your imprimatur upon positions to which you do not agree. Stand up for those treated as outcasts for opinions that are merely unfashionable. Make Discussion Possible Again.
Are you kicking a bad habit this year? Or starting a new fitness regimen? We’d love to hear your 2025 resolutions—tell us in the comments section.