Everyone needs their vice. For me, it’s tacos. Tacos and a cheap can of beer. But each January, the tacos hit differently because the beer is gone. I’ve been Dry Januarying for longer than I can remember, and will be the first to praise the hashtag. Over time, mine has extended to February, March, and now through most of the year until the Midwest grows cold and the parties feel cozy.

The annual reset offers me a health tune up, and a cessation of habit—and that’s true for up to half of us who report that Dry January curtails drinking longer term. A glass of champagne or the occasional paloma gets swapped for seltzer and a splash of juice—or god forbid, tap water (*shivers*)—and I cease reflexively grabbing something alcoholic to celebrate a hard day’s work. 

Whereas I used to quietly mainline homemade gingerade for the month while sidestepping the judgement of friends, the big brandification of sobriety means that my local liquor store eagerly emailed me on January 1 this year, inviting me back to try their Willy Wonka assortment of non alcoholic beers and spirits—what’s been estimated as a $13 billion global market in 2023 and growing. NA drinks were once a mark of shame, but now they’re the popular kids, with enticing flavors, sharp labels, and a tempting, ever-so-sanctimonious halo effect of self-care in an era when we should know better.

“Any level of alcohol is bad for you,” notes Daniel Roche, echoing warnings from the former Surgeon General. Roche is an assistant professor at the University of Maryland School of Medicine who studies alcohol and nicotine addiction. “Going back 10 to 20 years, there was still some argument that there might be some benefits of alcohol, but now, any level of consumption is associated with almost every cancer.”

At face value, the NA movement is a boon for health. But I’ve also had the creeping suspicion that it’s too convenient. This is the first Dry January where I’ve found myself chipping away at a 12-pack of (NA) Budweiser, its white and silver cans glinting in the light like vermeil clydesdales. I’ve been enjoying the bite of hops chasing a rich al pastor, my palate convinced that I’m drinking the real stuff, to the point I’ve been asking myself if I should run back to the store to grab another pack.

I haven’t had a drop of alcohol in weeks, but I still wonder: Am I really giving up drinking this month, if I’m still drinking beer? Am I breaking any habit if I’m reaching into a cardboard box labeled by Anheuser-Busch InBev? 

The answer is maybe. And maybe not. Through conversations with half a dozen addiction clinicians and researchers, experts firmly agreed that the proliferation of non-alcoholic beverages pose a net gain for public health. But they generally concurred that I may be onto something. There is little known about how non-alcoholic beverage affect our long-term relationships with drinking, and they could come with risks of their own—namely, keeping us dependent on the rituals of alcohol at the opportunity of breaking up with it entirely.

“We’re still sorting that out,” says Kenneth Leonard, director of the Research Institute on Addictions at University at Buffalo, noting that anything that cues the sensations of alcohol might lead some to seek the real thing. “It could certainly elicit some interest in returning and having an alcoholic beverage, and maybe saying, ‘I can just have one, or maybe I can have a couple.’”

To reiterate, the........

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