Dry January, Moderation, and the Problem with Mixed Messages

My best ideas appear just before I fall asleep, in that magical five-minute gap between worlds. Too comfortable to reach for a pen, I trust they’ll linger somewhere I can find them when I wake up. Last night, one arrived as a eulogy to Dry January.

I don’t know about you, but I’m confused. I don’t know how to do January anymore. That’s how confusing it’s become.

An anti-movement is taking shape, not led by alcohol defenders, but by alcohol-free voices themselves, smiling politely as they declare Dry January outdated.

The Late-Night Spiral

As I lay there in the dark, I tried to make sense of what was troubling me about our collective volatility.

We leap from one idea to the next, repackaging the old as new, then dismissing it just as fast. We’re afraid to upset until suddenly we’re not, because questioning triggers combative energy and cynicism instead of healthy debate.

Then came the conscience, disguised as hot flushes. A surge of heat, sudden and insistent, like an electric heater on overdrive.

This can’t be happening. I’m only forty!

And yet there I was, Dry January pulling me into late-night existential spirals and sweats.

To feel better, I did what I always do: I started arranging people into categories.

The Four Categories

• The Old-Schoolers

These are the sobriety influencers, educators, and writers who have built their platforms around sobriety advocacy. They’ve stayed true to their stance, openly criticizing alcohol’s effects and encouraging people to reconsider their relationship with it, often advocating for complete abstinence.

This group remains clear about Dry January, seeing it as a useful entry point for the curious. They post plans, promote supporting services and books, and host events. They’re steady and experienced, largely uninterested in online controversies or biased studies that suggest maybe it isn’t that bad.

• The Opportunists

These are alcohol-free drinks producers, consultants, media outlets, and newcomers eager to sell something to non-drinkers. For them, Dry January is a predictable spike in attention, a great chance to fish for new customers.

The challenge with this approach is how they strategize Dry January, planning it as a contained marketing campaign with aggressive ROI expectations. Their message feels transactional rather than transformational. It doesn’t come from the heart.

Normally, I’d roll my eyes for a bit and move on. But this approach may have helped trigger the third category.

• The Disruptors

These people—ranging from social media influencers to lobbyists to large alcohol-free drink producers—have generally had a liberal stance on sobriety.

In previous years, they participated in Dry January with messaging that was contemporary and trend-aware: not preachy, not overly commercial, not sentimental.

This year, some pivoted. They’re not against sobriety exactly, but they’ve moved into a public purgatory they call “moderation.”

The Problem with Mixed Messages

I worry about the mixed signals this sends to people struggling with their relationship to alcohol.

When someone who has publicly championed sobriety and Dry January suddenly reframes the message as “moderation is fine,” some may hear it as permission to try again—even if controlled drinking has failed them before.

The message rarely clarifies for whom it works and for whom it doesn’t.

When influential voices shift their messaging around substances with obvious gaps, especially on social media, it can reshape social norms in ways we don’t fully anticipate.

I get where it comes from. Still, it’s unsettling how quickly collective positions can shift, sometimes seemingly detached from both lived experience and underlying science.

Where I Stand regarding Dry January

But there’s a fourth category, and this is where I stand.

For me, Dry January is the same as dry February and March.

I view alcohol as a toxin; how much you’re willing to consume is your choice.

I’m here to help, not to blame. I know different approaches work for different people. I will tell you that mindful drinking is better than irresponsible drinking, but I will insist that alcohol-free is the best route. It’s also hard work.

You can’t just undermine that.

Moving Forward

So here’s what I’ll do: I’ll keep supporting Dry January as an entry point to living alcohol-free.

I’ll question influential voices that suddenly call it “outdated” or “extreme.” (In what world is a one-month break from alcohol considered too much?)

And if all this gives you a sudden flush tonight… good. Your conscience may be trying to tell you something.

Stay Sober // Stay Cool

High Sobriety Club