You Can’t Goodhart Abstinence
Unintentionally, I’ve just completed two consecutive thirty-day “challenges”. I began with abstaining from alcohol after returning from Burning Man and followed it up by publishing a blogpost—of at least 500-words—everyday in November. The latter was part of a cohort-based program, which made motivation easier to find, whereas the former was more of a “just cos..” that I took on with another friend (though we were in different countries and not really checking on each other).
The main lesson about myself is that I find avoiding alcohol far stickier and easier than daily publishing because drinking isn’t really a habit of mine, despite being something I enjoy. I imbibed again after 35 daysMaybe longer as I stopped tracking after the month was done. but stopped blogging a couple days before the end of the program by bulk-posting (a scheduler to build the post at a predetermined time). This way I didn’t miss hitting thirty posts.
Even if it felt far more beneficial for my perceived general wellbeing than abstinence, the spell to persist with blogging broke almost instantly. There are many reasons for that. One is that I could accelerate towards the writing target of thirty blogposts by simply writing more each day, if I felt like it. This is classic Goodharting; the measure of 30 posts became the metric. But I also accepted that I wasn’t going to become a better writer by publishing daily but, by abstaining, I definitely feel like I became a better non-drinker with each passing day.
This leads to another lesson: one can’t Goodhart their way to abstinence in the same way as daily blogging. To hit thirty days of not drinking requires each day to pass without me touching a poisonous beverage. Here, the measure is the metric. This helps break a habit, if there’s one, or a routine, which perhaps precedes habit formation. A corollary is my revised perspective on habits. Counter to the popular belief that it takes 21 days to make a habit, I now believe it takes less time to make a bad one stick because it’s fun in the moment; a good habit takes far longer to form because it’s harder to do. These require conscious routinisation for far longer—maybe 50 days or until visible benefits are observed—to become something as mechanical as a habit.
While I’m tempted to say that this routine to good habit-formation is a ‘me thing’, I am convinced it isn’t—reading books is a good habit, which requires a routine of some sort, but there’s enough evidence that this is dwindling. It is hard to do for a number of reasons not worth going into, but I have similar issues with making a gym habit. Eating healthier is another thing that requires a cooking routine, which is really the most effective way to eat better but also hard to do; cooking requires shopping which more than doubles the toll on conscious engagement with the world and one’s body, making it hard to stick.
It’s worth taking pause to note that good habits don’t always stay “good”; go to the gym incessantly and you will feel a niggle, or worse. Reading and writing too much can make one asocial to the point of damaging relationships. Eat too healthy and one’s prioritisation of functionality over form impacts both social interactions and limits appreciation of other cultural cuisines. As far as I know, no delicious cuisine is built on a base of protein powders and creatine. Drinking is quite punishing and I was quite glad to not drink. There were clear benefits too, of course, but I’m not sure my general drinking frequency is one that does too much harm. So, when I returned to beverages, I was reminded how much craft goes into an English red ale, a Gose, a Belgian Trappist; alcohol, like writing, is an art form. I missed these delicious cultural artifacts but, luckily, they’re always around.
To avoid or overcome these potential downsides, one needs breaks from good habits. I was so happy to stop blogging; my brain literally was pounding for two days straight from a cycle of focused writing (which I also do for work) and reading/consuming without end. But the problem here is that writing ideas are not like beers; if you miss capturing them instantly, they’re often gone forever. Daily blogging reinforced how critical it is to take 15-20 minutes to capture one in sufficient detail. Not new wisdom, but something that becomes routine through practice. I’m now wondering if, with age, I should plan my year around more such month-long challenges.