Why Goals Keep Failing You
(And What They’re Not Telling You About Identity)
Every January, the story starts the same way.
You open a fresh planner.
You pick a word for the year.
You set a few “big goals”: lose 20 pounds, read 24 books, be more present with your family, finally get your finances together.
For a few weeks, you are on it.
You close your rings.
You track your calories.
You highlight quotes in your new book.
And then February arrives.
Work ramps back up. A child gets sick. Someone brings donuts to the office. One tired evening you skip the gym “just this once,” and a few days later you realize you have quietly stopped. By March, you are carrying around a familiar, heavy mix of disappointment and self-criticism: What is wrong with me?
If that script feels uncomfortably familiar, you are not alone.
Surveys regularly find that only a small minority—often around 8–10 percent—keep New Year’s resolutions for a full year, and many people abandon theirs within the first few weeks.[1] The overwhelming majority of “fresh starts” end not with transformation, but with guilt and quiet resignation.
So the real question is not, “How do I set better goals?” The deeper question is: Why do so many goals, resolutions, and “fresh starts” collapse, even for intelligent and motivated people?
And underneath that: What are we missing about identity?
The Cultural Script: “Set SMART goals, hustle, track, repeat.”
Most of us have been handed a simple, confident script for change:
At a significant moment (New Year, birthday, new job),
Set SMART goals—Specific, Measurable, Achievable, Relevant, Time-bound.
“Crush it” through willpower, motivation, and hustle.
Track relentlessly with apps, streaks, and dashboards.
Enjoy the upgraded life.
If the plan fails, the diagnosis is usually personal:
You were not motivated enough.
You were not disciplined enough.
You were not serious enough.
So, next year, you try harder. Stronger language. More intense goals. Tighter timelines. More ambitious trackers.
But underneath the surface, something important is off.
Modern psychology has been saying—quietly but consistently—that we radically overestimate the power of raw willpower and intentions and underestimate the quiet, steady force of identity, habits, and environment. Strong goals by themselves do not reliably produce behavior change.[2]
In other words: the cultural script is neat, but it is not honest about what actually drives human behavior.
The Data: Why Willpower and Motivation Aren’t Enough
We like to imagine ourselves as primarily goal-driven creatures: we decide, we intend, we execute.
But a growing body of research suggests that much of our daily behavior is habit-driven, cue-driven, and identity-consistent, not simply “goal-consistent.”
A few key insights:
Intentions are necessary but not sufficient.
Peter Gollwitzer’s work on “implementation intentions” shows that even strong, sincere goal intentions often fail to translate into action unless people form concrete if–then plans (for example, “If it is 7:00 a.m., then I put on my walking shoes and go outside”).[3] Wanting something intensely is not the same as reliably doing something about it.Habits run when willpower is low.
Research on habit formation indicates that when self-control is depleted—when you are tired, stressed, or distracted—you tend to default to whatever behaviors have become automatic in a given context.[4] If your identity and environment support late-night snacking and doom-scrolling, those are what will run when your energy drops, no matter what your goals say.Identity quietly anchors behavior.
Writers like James Clear synthesize a wide range of habit research into a simple claim: your current behaviors are often a reflection of the story you believe about who you are.[5] People who see themselves as “active” or “a reader” or “the kind of person who follows through” behave differently than those who see themselves as “lazy,” “all-or-nothing,” or “someone who never finishes.”
Put simply:
Your goals may be sincere, but your life is being run by your identity, your habits, and your environment.
If your goals are not rooted in a deeper, truer identity—and if they are not supported by concrete shifts in habits and context—it is entirely predictable that they will collapse.
Three Core Problems with the Way We Use Goals
Goals are not the enemy. But the way we typically relate to goals is deeply flawed.
Here are three core problems that quietly sabotage even good intentions.
1. Goals Are Often Arbitrary and Calendar-Driven
Every January, billions of people across the world suddenly decide, within a 24-hour window, that now is the time to overhaul their lives.
Why? Not because their psychological readiness or life context magically changed, but because the calendar flipped.
The problem is that the calendar is not a strong foundation for change:
The first weeks of January are often cold, dark, and busy—hardly ideal conditions for radical life overhaul.
The change is external, not internal. A new year does not automatically make you a new kind of person; it simply creates a socially sanctioned moment to wish you were.
So, we set goals like:
“Run a marathon this year.”
“Read 50 books.”
“Never eat sugar again.”
These can be meaningful, but notice what often drives them:
Guilt from the past year.
Comparison with others.
Vague cultural pressure to “level up.”
They are often reactive rather than reflective—responses to discomfort more than expressions of a considered identity.
When goals are primarily calendar-driven, they tend to be:
Too big for current capacity.
Detached from real constraints (family schedule, health, work cycles).
Unmoored from identity, based more on what sounds impressive than on who you are becoming.
Then, when life does what it always does—adds complexity—those goals crumble, and we conclude there is something wrong with us rather than something shallow about the way the goals were formed.
2. Goals Are Outcome-Obsessed, Not Identity-Rooted
Most goals are written as outcomes:
“Lose 20 pounds.”
“Save $10,000.”
“Publish a book.”
“Get promoted.”
Outcomes are not bad. They are often necessary. But they are second-order realities—the visible fruit of something deeper.
When we fixate on outcomes without asking “Who am I becoming?” several things go wrong:
We bypass character.
You can chase the goal of a promotion and become more anxious, manipulative, or absent at home in the process. You technically “achieve” the goal but at the cost of becoming someone you never intended to be.We outsource our identity to metrics.
If the scale goes down, you feel like a success. If it goes up, you feel like a failure. Your sense of self rides on numbers that fluctuate daily. That is emotionally exhausting.We chase results we are not psychologically aligned with.
You might set a reading goal because it sounds impressive, but internally, you still see yourself as “not really a reader.” The identity conflict means every reading session has friction: you are pushing against your own self-story.
Identity-first living reverses this. Instead of starting with,
“What outcome do I want?”
you begin with,
“Who do I want to become?”
From there, you ask:
“What would a person like that naturally do most days?”
Outcomes become byproducts of a deeper transformation, not the primary focus.
3. Goals Create Binary Success/Failure Narratives and Shame
Traditional goals tend to create binary stories:
You either hit the target weight or you did not.
You either went to the gym 5 times a week or you did not.
You either read 24 books this year or you did not.
This all-or-nothing framing becomes corrosive over time.
Psychologists note that resolutions often fail because they invite rigid, perfectionistic thinking: miss one workout, eat one dessert, skip one journaling session, and the whole project feels ruined.[6]
What happens next is predictable:
A small lapse becomes a total collapse.
“I slipped” quietly mutates into “I am a failure.”
Shame moves in and begins telling identity-level stories: This is who you are. You start strong and then quit. You are the type of person who never finishes.
Notice what just happened: A missed workout—a behavioral event—was translated into an identity claim.
This is the great irony: our goal-obsessed culture almost never talks explicitly about identity, yet failed goals constantly drive us to make harsh identity judgments about ourselves.
Over time, this produces a deep, weary cynicism:
“Why bother setting goals? I know how this ends.”
The problem is not that you are weak. The problem is that the framework for change is flawed.
How Goals Can Work (But Only in the Right Order)
So, should we ditch goals entirely? Not necessarily.
Goals can be powerful, but only when they take their proper place.
Think of change as having three layers:
Identity – Who I am and who I am becoming.
Processes / Habits – What I do repeatedly.
Outcomes / Goals – What I get as a result.
Most of us work from the outside in:
Outcomes → Processes → Identity.
“If I can just lose the weight (outcome), then I will start to see myself as a healthy person (identity).”
“If I can just finish this big project (outcome), then I will feel like someone who follows through (identity).”
Identity is treated as the reward at the end of the process.
Identity-first living flips this script:
Identity → Processes → Outcomes.
You start with a deliberate identity commitment:
“I am a person who treats his body as a long-term trust.”
“I am a parent who keeps choosing my kids with joy.”
“I am a wise steward of money.”
Then you ask:
“If this is who I am becoming, what small, repeatable actions would align with that today?”
That identity then shapes your habits—and over time, your outcomes.
Nick Saban’s “Process”: A Football Coach Who Ignored the Scoreboard
If you want a vivid, non-religious picture of identity- and process-first living, you do not have to look in a psychology textbook. You can walk onto a football field in Tuscaloosa.
When Nick Saban talks about building a championship program at Alabama, he almost never starts with trophies. He talks about “The Process.” In simple terms, Saban’s philosophy is:
Do not obsess over the scoreboard.
Obsess over how you show up for the next play.
Execute your assignment with excellence, again and again, regardless of the situation.[7]
Reporters and business writers summarizing his approach point out that he drills his teams to focus on what is “important now”—not the national championship, not social media hype, but the exact task in front of them in this moment: the next drill, the next rep, the next play.[8]
A few aspects of Saban’s Process are worth noticing for identity-first living:
Process over outcome.
He does not deny the importance of winning, but he treats winning as a byproduct of a well-built system. You control your preparation, your execution, your focus; the scoreboard will reflect that over time.Standards over moods.
Players are taught to “play to the standard,” not to their feelings. The standard is a kind of team identity: this is who we are, this is how we play, regardless of the opponent or the circumstances.The next play mentality.
After a big win or a crushing mistake, Saban pushes the team back to the same question: What is the next play, and how do we execute it? Wins are celebrated briefly; losses are analyzed; then everyone returns to the process.
Notice how close this runs to an identity-first framework:
The identity is the standard: “We are a team that plays with relentless effort, discipline, and focus on every snap.”
The process is the daily and weekly habits: film study, conditioning, practice reps, communication, alignment, recovery.
The outcomes—wins, championships, records—are consequences of that identity expressed through that process.
You can translate this almost directly into an ordinary life:
Identity: “I am a person who treats my body as a long-term trust.”
Process: “Today’s ‘next play’ is a short walk, a reasonable dinner, and a strict bedtime.”
Outcome: Over months and years, your health markers, energy, and presence with your family begin to change.
Saban’s genius is not that he wants to win more than other coaches. It is that he refuses to build a culture on outcome obsession. He knows that in high-pressure environments, thinking too much about trophies or rankings actually makes people tighten up and play worse. Focusing on “The Process” keeps attention where it can actually make a difference: on who you are and what you are doing right now.
That is identity-first living in cleats.
A Different Starting Question
The traditional goal-setting question is:
“What do I want to achieve this year?”
An identity-first question sounds more like:
“Who do I want to become over the next decade—and what kind of person would I need to be this year for that to be true?”
That question has a different weight.
It invites reflection instead of reaction.
It connects your daily choices to a longer story.
When you live from that question:
You become less impressed with big, dramatic resolutions and more interested in small, consistent commitments.
You worry less about “crushing your goals” and more about living in alignment with the person you say you are.
You treat lapses not as proof that you are a failure, but as information: What made this hard for the kind of person I am becoming, and what would help next time?
This is not sentimental. It is deeply practical.
Identity is not an abstract idea sitting on top of your life. It is woven into the way you spend money, use your devices, respond to stress, and treat the people closest to you. The stories you tell yourself about who you are become quiet scripts that run under every choice.
Change those stories, and you change the gravitational pull of your life.
A Small Experiment to Point Toward Identity-First Living
If you want to taste the difference, try this simple experiment:
Pick one frustrating goal that keeps failing.
For example: “I want to work out three times a week,” or “I want to stop scrolling late at night.”Ask the identity question.
Instead of asking, “How do I hit this goal?” ask,
“Who do I want to be in this domain of my life?”
You might write:
“I am someone who treats sleep as a sacred resource.”
“I am a person who moves his body every day as an act of long-term care.”
Name one small, repeatable behavior that matches that identity.
Make it almost embarrassingly small:Turning your phone off at a certain time.
Taking a 10-minute walk after dinner.
Doing five minutes of stretching each morning.
Let the success metric be identity-alignment, not perfection.
The question at the end of the day is not “Did I crush my goal?”
It is:
“Did I take even one small step that fits the kind of person I am becoming?”
Over time, those small, identity-aligned actions accumulate.
They begin to feel normal, expected—part of who you are.
If Goals Aren’t the Foundation, What Is?
We began with a painful observation: most goals fail, not because we are weak or foolish, but because we have been taught to build change on the wrong foundation.
We lean on the calendar instead of genuine readiness.
We fixate on outcomes instead of identity.
We accept binary success/failure stories that generate shame and erode hope.
The answer is not to abandon goals altogether, but to re-order them—to put them in service to a deeper process of formation.
The real work is to ask and answer identity-level questions:
Who am I becoming?
Who do I want to be for my spouse, my children, my friends, my work, my future self?
What would it look like to order my ordinary days around that identity?
In other words:
Goals can be helpful. But they are not where your life is meant to be anchored. Identity is.
The scoreboard of your life will eventually reflect the process you commit to. The deeper invitation is not to chase bigger goals, but to become the kind of person whose ordinary, daily “next plays” quietly add up to a very different story.
Footnotes
[1] Richard Batts, “Why Most New Year’s Resolutions Fail,” Lead Read Today, Fisher College of Business, The Ohio State University, February 2, 2023; Baylor College of Medicine, “New Year’s resolutions: Why do we give up on them so quickly?” January 11, 2024; Drive Research, “New Year’s Resolutions Statistics and Trends,” November 18, 2024.
[2] Peter M. Gollwitzer, “Implementation Intentions: Strong Effects of Simple Plans,” in The Psychology of Action: Linking Cognition and Motivation to Behavior, ed. Peter M. Gollwitzer and John A. Bargh (New York: Guilford Press, 1996); Peter M. Gollwitzer and Paschal Sheeran, “Implementation Intentions and Goal Achievement: A Meta-Analysis of Effects and Processes,” Advances in Experimental Social Psychology 38 (2006): 69–119.
[3] Peter M. Gollwitzer, “Implementation Intentions: Strong Effects of Simple Plans,” 1999; see also “Implementation Intentions and Effective Goal Pursuit,” 1997, for experimental evidence that if–then plans increase follow-through compared to goal intentions alone.
[4] Benjamin Gardner, “Making health habitual: the psychology of ‘habit-formation’ and general practice,” British Journal of General Practice 62, no. 605 (2012): 664–666; Phillippa Lally et al., “How are habits formed: Modelling habit formation in the real world,” European Journal of Social Psychology 40, no. 6 (2010): 998–1009.
[5] James Clear, “Identity-Based Habits: How to Actually Stick to Your Goals,” jamesclear.com, accessed December 2025; James Clear, Atomic Habits: Tiny Changes, Remarkable Results (New York: Avery, 2018).
[6] Per Carlbring et al., “What does science say about all the failed New Year’s resolutions?” PLOS ONE–summarized in CORDIS, January 12, 2023; see also survey syntheses in Discover Happy Habits, “New Year’s Resolution Statistics (2023 Updated).”
[7] “Nick Saban’s Process: Lessons in Resilience and Leadership,” Force Management blog, accessed December 2025; see also Agilicist, “Beyond Outputs and Outcomes: The Systems Advantage,” which summarizes Saban’s “don’t worry about the scoreboard, worry about the process” philosophy.
[8] Steven Cost, “How Nick Saban’s ‘Five Choices’ Work for Business Leaders,” Fast Company, April 26, 2023, describing Saban’s “What’s Important Now” (WIN) emphasis and focus on the next play.


