We’ve just about come to that point in January where, for many of us, the gust of novelty and promise of a new year is beginning to wear thin. We’re no longer writing and then having to scribble out ‘2023’ when marking down a date. 2024 is starting to settle in. All those ‘I’ll deal with it in the new year’ tasks are also coming back to roost. And, according to Norcross and Vangarello's findings, at the time of writing, between 34 and 40 percent of people reading this will have abandoned their resolution from the New Year.

Suffice it all to say: If you’ve found yourself at this point in January and your resolve is starting to shake, you are far from alone. If our goals for the year are starting to head south, how might we rejuvenate the motivation and energy to bring a resolution back to life?

If we were to perceive some common societal rituals for the first time, I bet many would feel almost like a practical joke. From brides throwing bouquets to people lining up for hours to get the best Black Friday deals; from memorialising moments by taking pictures of ourselves on little handheld devices, to gender reveal parties. Humans are weird. Again, shared meaning is imperative as we operate in this broader social and cultural context. The last edition of this newsletter focussed more on individual rituals and their impacts, but, of course, many rituals operate as effective mechanisms for human togetherness. I found it interesting that Dad and the other people I spoke with all told stories of rituals that were shared with other people. Social rituals bring us closer through this shared meaning, helping us move through difficult experiences like grief and loss, celebrate change, or simply facilitate feelings of connection and social identity. In more ways than one, it’s the rituals that make us.

The power of rituals for performance, meaning, and connection

In a 2013 experiment, participants were each provided with a chocolate bar.

Some participants were given no further instruction beyond that they had to eat the chocolate bar. Others, however, were told to follow a specific process (p. 5):

“Without unwrapping the chocolate bar, break it in half. Unwrap half of the bar and eat it. Then, unwrap the other half and eat it.”

The study found that those who participated in this ritual enjoyed the experience of eating the chocolate more than those who had no ritual. These participants also evaluated the chocolate as tastier, and they spent a longer time actually eating it than those without the ritual. Their perceived value of the chocolate was also higher, based on responses when asked how much they’d be prepared to spend on the chocolate.

And it all came down to the ritual.

Perfectionistic striving, perfectionistic concerns, and the power of curiosity

I am, and always have been, what you might call the stereotypical perfectionist: Classic type A operator, high expectations of the self, etc. etc.

Of course, I’m not alone here - perfectionism is only becoming more common. One meta-analysis examining different cohorts from 1989 to 2016, for example, led researchers to assert that all types of perfectionism have been increasing over time. They found more recent generations of university pupils identified with more socially-prescribed perfectionism than their predecessors, stating, “This finding suggests that young people are perceiving that their social context is increasingly demanding, that others judge them more harshly, and that they are increasingly inclined to display perfection as a means of securing approval.”

And different types of perfectionism can have negative impacts. For example, research has found links between perfectionistic tendencies and procrastination, with indications that discrepancies may be an important factor between the two: That is, negative interpretations that I’ve not met the standards I expect for myself, and other intense self-evaluations. More maladaptive types of perfectionism have also been linked to more stress, personal and professional burnout, and even potential impacts on physical health.

Humans are pretty self-oriented.

From an evolutionary perspective, this makes sense. After all, how could a species like ours survive if we didn’t, consciously or unconsciously, keep ourselves at the centre of our human experience?

This self-centrism is arguably one of the reasons why finding common ground with someone can fast-track connection and influence. In Robert Cialdini’s classic 1980’s book Influence, he puts it simply:

“We like people who are like us. It’s a fact that applies to human infants as young as nine months and holds true later in life whether the similarity is in the area of opinions, personality traits, background, or lifestyle.” (2021 edition, p. 84)

We’ve all experienced that instant ‘buzz’ when you meet someone for the first time and realise you have something in common. And the buzz will often heighten if that commonality is a niche interest or experience. Perhaps you suddenly feel closer to the person, like you know them at a much deeper level despite only learning a little more information. As it turns out, the power of similarity and belonging goes pretty deep…

Increases in life satisfaction and resilience have been linked to positive emotions. Other research suggests that there is a continuous and positively reinforcing relationship between positive social connections, positive emotions, and physical wellbeing. A social cognitive perspective of emotion highlights that emotional contagion - the spread of positive or negative emotional states from one person to another and throughout a group - is a very real phenomenon, and the overall affective tone of a group has been linked to performance. My own PhD research (in progress!) is exploring some of this, looking at how different emotions and affective experiences sit within leadership models and consequently relate to outcomes.

But in recent years I’ve definitely pulled back on the all-in-positivity. (Needless to say, I don’t use that sign anymore, either.)

The problem with positivity is not positivity itself. I think the issue is that, particularly in recent decades, we tend to have begun framing positivity as an isolated concept. But it’s not.

I remember getting my first iPod and feeling like I held absolute magic in my palm (even though about 6% of its storage space was eventually filled by Limewire’s classic Bill Clinton track…). The Vision Pro, on first glance, brings me back to this memory. Even though there are other AR/VR headsets available on the market, Apple has a way of making you feel like this is the start of a whole new way of working, connecting, and existing in society. (Admittedly, I’m also someone highly susceptible to hype.)

But, in a world where we are already becoming more and more siloed away from each other, what would it mean to have mass adoption of VR headsets for everyday use? My initial reflections are that this tech could be a) absolutely incredible for the development of health interventions, particularly for some older, less mobile, or more vulnerable populations, and b) potentially quite concerning for the general populations’ social well-being…

How to reframe interpersonal disagreements for better outcomes

I hate conflict. My natural inclination has always been to hesitate a little too long before addressing an issue, or to rationalise to myself that a confrontation would be unproductive… you know, this time around.

(Maybe next time.)

This philosophy, particularly early in my career, proved very convenient for avoiding direct conversations. Layer on my inherent need to be liked, and it’s meant that over the years I’ve had to resist these instincts to become more assertive. The instincts never leave, though.

When I ask others to raise a hand if they have a fear or dislike of conflict, I am usually met with a sea of hands. And this fear makes sense, because welcoming any kind of conflict will bring with it an invitation for instability and a potential recalibration of interpersonal dynamics.

Zoom fatigue and similar constructs generally describe the experience of exhaustion caused by sitting in many virtual meetings for long stretches of time; a process that seems disproportionately more draining than in-person work.

Research shows that this phenomenon tends to increase alongside app usage frequency, though notably, the quality of your internet connection also plays a role. And, as we might expect, ongoing exhaustion from poorly managed video calls could be a cause for concern. For example, some research has found a positive correlation between videoconferencing fatigue and burnout and depression.

Given the ubiquity of Zoom fatigue, researchers have been hard at work exploring this process in more depth. In a fantastic 2021 article, four theoretical arguments are presented by media psychologist Bailenson, all centring on the idea of Zoom causing ‘non-verbal overload’…

The counter-intuitive effects of incidental social interactions on wellbeing

In his book Friends, renowned evolutionary psychologist Robin Dunbar highlights the plethora of studies demonstrating the psychological and physical benefits of close social ties. Aside from emotional support and social fulfilment, friendships also link to longer life spans and reduced risk of disease, and play a role in psychological well-being.

As it turns out, though, connection and the benefits that accompany it are not limited to our closest family and friends. Weak ties — acquaintances, strangers — can also provide significant benefits.

As one is wont to do amidst Spotify wrapped Instagram stories, heartfelt Facebook posts, and twitter threads inviting me to make 2023 my best yet (follow my Substack to learn how!), I find myself prompted into reflection on the last 360-odd days.

In some ways, this year has been challenging. At a personal level, I’ve taken a seat on the periphery of some loss and some illness. I’ve also experienced some great highs. At a professional level, the year has been characterised by hard work, growth, and questioning. Questioning within my topic of research, because I started doctoral studies this year, but also questioning myself; where I want to go, what I want to focus on, and what’s important. That journey is ongoing. The three ideas below are ones that, in one way or another, came into focus for me this year, which I hope to carry into 2023.

Some human qualities are generally accepted as positive ones. Generosity. Honesty. Courage. Kindness. These are characteristics that we inherently assume are part of ‘goodness’; qualities we strive to instil in our children as they grow up. But is it a simplification to think that our strengths will always operate in our favour?

In ancient philosophy, Aristotle famously conceptualised the ‘golden mean’. The idea is that too much or too little of a virtue is problematic, and we should instead strive towards the middle. The old version of seeking out the porridge that’s ‘just right’. Many Greco-Roman philosophers warn of the dangers of excess and advocate for temperance, so perhaps this is not surprising.