The editor has asked me to bang out something on New Year’s Resolutions. To be honest, I regard this as prying. By definition, these are supposed to be MY resolutions. Disclosing them to readers of The Catholic Weekly is like publishing the password to my conscience, isn’t it? Not that there’s much of interest, but unless one of my resolutions is to care less about privacy, it seems unduly intrusive.
However, a pay cheque is a pay cheque, and if the boss says jump, we have to ask “how high?” So here goes.
I will stop doom-scrolling. I thank God that I am not 16 and blocked from using Facebook and Instagram and TikTok and X (not that anyone under 16 actually posts on Facebook anymore). I would be a nervous wreck.
But I do spend an inordinate amount of time on news feeds. I begin with the BBC and then The Australian and then ABC News and then The Economist and then Semafor and then The Guardian and then the SMH. And if I have a bit of time left, I move on to Al-Jazeera and the New York Times.
You see the problem? The more disastrous the news, the more angles there are and the more outlets I need to consult to compare narratives. In 2026 I will check just two apps: The Guardian and The Australian.
I will read more books. With all the extra time that I will have without doom-scrolling, I will try to exercise my grey matter by reading books instead of getting a dopamine rush with each headline. Books demand calm, meditative reflection. Almost anything will do, because immersing yourself in a book means that you develop a critical sense. It doesn’t matter what genre — novels, history, politics, philosophy, biography. The goal is to engage with ideas and not emotions.
I will not obsess about Donald Trump. OK, this is where it gets a bit political, so if you are a big fan of the Orange Man, skip to the next paragraph. But that’s what doom-scrolling does to you. Trump orders his Air Force to waste Venezuelan drug-runners. Trump tells his Vice-President to buy more expensive shoes. Trump disses Zelensky. Trump builds a golden ballroom for the White House. Trump calls European leaders weak and useless. As I read headlines like this, my brain catches fire.
Actually, that is why I need to read more books. Donald Trump is just a lurid billboard on the highway of history. He is just a symptom of underlying failures of contemporary politics, a distraction from the real challenges — like rising debt, fracturing social ties, declining fertility, the demographic winter, the dictatorship of relativism, anomie and meaninglessness.
I will stop texting. I have realised that I text all the time. I send WhatsApps; I send text messages; I send emails. Whenever I am confronted with a choice between texting and ringing or paying a visit, I will always choose the more impersonal, less engaging form of communication.
I don’t know why this is happening to me. I know it’s part of the erosion of social ties and human interaction. It bothers me. Sometimes I have a nightmare about reacting to the news that a friend’s mother has died: “Really sad to hear bro 😪i’ll see if i can make the funeral ⚰️lol”. I can’t imagine that I would ever be that crass, but I’m headed that way. In 2026 I will be ringing instead of texting.
I will obsess about the 2026 FIFA World Cup. I realise that the Socceroos’ chances of winning the World Cup are about 500 to 1. The wildly optimistic TAB is offering 200 to 1. But the round ball game is the most uniting sport in the world. It is drama and pathos and machismo and skill. For five weeks, it will be the universal conversation-starter, a better social lubricant than a round of Coopers Pale Ale. It is everything that addiction to social media isn’t.
Hitherto, I never paid attention before the final. I will watch every game.
Correction, I will watch every game that doesn’t keep me from losing sleep.
So there you have it: my New Year’s Resolutions. I didn’t keep them in 2020, or 2021, or 2022, or 2023, or 2024, or 2025. Pray for me in 2026!
