I have a bone to pick with Dry January, but I’ll bet it’s not the one you think I have.

First: Who should read this post, and who shouldn’t
If you’re a recovering alcoholic, this post is not for you. Nor is this post for you if you have medical reasons for not drinking alcohol, nor is it for you if you have religious convictions against drinking alcohol. You gotta do you, and I’m not here to convert anyone to the First Church of Craft Cocktails; that church has never wanted for a flock of the faithful.  

This post is for anyone who enjoys ‘adult beverages’ and is either already doing Dry January, or feeling like they should, or—worst of all—trying to do Dry January but failing at the attempt and feeling like a cheat.

You’re not alone, so don’t beat yourselves up. However, this may surprise you: I will not say “Don’t do Dry January.” 

Why do Dry January (or Sober October)?
The problem I have with Dry January and Sober October isn’t that anyone decides to do something healthy for themselves; studies have found that there are, indeed, health benefits to going on an occasional alcohol fast, so who am I to tell anyone that’s a bad idea? Given its risks, alcohol enjoyment ought to be a matter of regular introspection, and if it takes a calendar event or social movement to prompt such introspection, that’s fine with me. So here we go.

My burning question, fellow drinkers, is “What makes you feel the need to do Dry January?” 
Is it year-long or seasonal over-indulgence in drinking that drives us to (ahem) a *single* month of regret and atonement? Or is it a genuine desire to change our habits in the interest of wellness? 

If the answer is “wellness,” are we being holistic and consistent about it? 

It’s true that beverage alcohol, more than many foods and beverages humans consume, is a glassful of mostly useless calories and has a potentially dark and harmful side for some people. There’s no argument that many Americans suffer from what the National Institutes of Health (NIH) calls “Alcohol Use Disorder.” 

That said, please note what causes outrank alcohol use among preventable causes of death, per the NIH page linked above (emphasis added): “An estimated 95,000 people (approximately 68,000 men and 27,000 women) die from alcohol-related causes annually, making alcohol the third-leading preventable cause of death in the United States. The first is tobacco, and the second is poor diet and physical inactivity.”

We tend to overeat and under-exercise all year even more than we over-drink during the November-December holiday season. The NIH reports that more than 70 percent of adult Americans are overweight or obese (although not all Americans agree they are). That percentage has grown dramatically over just the past 20 years. We have other vices, too, including the growing popularity of increasingly legal recreational weed. Cannabis is another entire discussion; it’s not harmless, and (snark alert) of course younger generations are drinking less alcohol; how else can they afford their designer weed?

So, Americans are killing themselves needlessly in lots of different ways, and while tobacco, food, and sloth kill more people every year than drinking alcohol, I haven’t heard of any national movements toward Smokeless September, Fasting February, Beach Body April, No-sofa Saturday, or Weedless Wednesday. 

This, my friends, is the bone I pick with Dry January and Sober October: We shouldn’t put the burden of our wellness solely on what we drink while ignoring our diet, our other vices, and—in too many cases—our very sedentary lifestyles. If it’s wellness we’re after, “where’s the beef?.” 

For alcohol, I advocate moderation all year over abstinence for a month, and as part of a holistic approach to health—not just seasonal penitence. A simple illustration: If I “do dry” once a week—let’s say, “Teetotaling Tuesday”—that not only sounds more achievable than “all of January,” but it’s 52 days of abstinence in a year instead of just 31.  

Frankly, I’d make a substantial bet that most people pledging to Dry January don’t make it through the entire month without cheating here and there, if they’re being honest. I’m not judging; I admit that I don’t want to do Dry January, mostly because it sounds like a monastic ordeal. Let’s stop beating ourselves up about what we enjoy and do something more positive than a month of self-flagellation.

Sympathy, tools, and tips for alcohol moderation
Moderation is easier preached than done. My personal effort starts with honesty to myself about how much alcohol I’m consuming. I can attempt to lie to my doctor, but I can’t lie to myself; I see how much I drink, and I’m always conscious of the CDC’s guidelines. 

Two “standard drinks” a day for a man and one for a woman? That’s not much alcohol, but it’s what medical science has found is the healthy limit for most people. Our livers are mortal.

There are lots of assists available for anyone seriously interested in year-long moderation of their drinking. The CDC offers some guidance, and so does Harvard Medical School, and… well, a host of internet resources. Check them out. 

And take the first steps, if you haven’t already:  

1. Develop a singular focus—not on drinking vs. not drinking, but on caring for your own health; no one else can do this for you. If you smoke, quit. If you’re overweight, work out a plan; consult your primary care physician, consider talking to a nutritionist. If you’re sedentary, resolve to exercise 3-4 times per week (moderately—this isn’t the Olympics, so keep it simple and just take a walk). 
2. Enlist your family and friends to be a support system for your moderation. One reason alcohol moderation is hard is that, in addition to food, alcoholic beverages have been a social lubricant ever since pre-historic hominids discovered naturally fermenting fruits. So buddy up with people who support you and even share your goals.

And whether or not you set these kinds of goals for yourself, please respect and actively support your friends who do. Choosing sobriety in particular, or even moderation, can be a lonely, isolating lifestyle. Don’t divorce or pressure your friends who make that choice; embrace and encourage them, even if it’s not the path you choose.

Reward your moderation by drinking better when you do
Drink less to be healthier; drink better to enjoy it more. If you’re succeeding at moderation, shop a shelf or two higher at the wine and liquor store as a reward for your self-discipline. I’ve tried to live by that rule for a long time. Let’s look at other approaches, too.

While I’m cynical and somewhere between lukewarm and very chilly to the concept of no-alcohol wines and alcohol-free spirits—these are two of my favorite oxymorons, and I simply haven’t found any yet that I enjoy—I understand that they’re an improving option. Many people may be willing to settle for them as a way to reduce alcohol intake but still enjoy some flavors reminiscent of the wine and booze they’ve always liked. Non-alcoholic (NA) cocktails, on the other hand—if you can find them or don’t mind making them—offer more immediate hope for enjoying glasses full of delightful flavors that match the quality you’ve only known from boozy cocktails in the past. Fair warning, those NA cocktails can be pricey, though, and the ingredients are sometimes exotic enough that they can be hard to find or a hassle to make at home.

There’s a middle ground for people who’ve always enjoyed cocktails and want to moderate for health: low-alcohol cocktails. Most ingredients you’ll find in these recipes are readily available, and I find drinks in this category very enjoyable. 

A word to my friends in the hospitality and beverage trade
The trade and consumer press are brimming with articles describing how our younger generations are reshaping the market for alcoholic beverages with demand for healthier wines and low- or no-alcohol beverages or simply drinking less than their parents and grandparents. I believe the trend is overstated because it makes for interesting news, but yes, it’s a trend. Here and there across the United States, thoughtful bars and restaurants are responding by upgrading their low- and no-alcohol beverage offerings. 

Good. We need more of that to happen.

Alcoholic beverage lovers shouldn’t have all the fun. You’re not a full hospitality provider if you have a menu full of fancy signature drinks for alcohol consumers but all you offer their sober friends is a Coke or a Shirley Temple. Treat sober and moderating guests to the same variety and quality of flavors and menu options as you offer your traditional bar customers. Make them feel like they’re welcome, not like they’re second-class citizens because they don’t want alcohol.