January feels like a depressing time for many. The weather’s awful, there’s less daylight, and your body is struggling to cope with the withdrawal of the depression-alleviating calorific foods, such as chocolate, of the hedonistic festive period.

January is one predictable post-Christmas hangover. But predictable doesn’t mean pathological.

There are many reasons why someone may feel particularly “down” during January. But every year, much of the media (traditional and social) become fixated on a specific day – the third Monday in January – as the most depressing of the year. It has become known as Blue Monday.

We are told that this is when our motivation collapses, debt peaks, weather worsens, and morale collectively fails.

It’s a compelling idea. But just how true is it?

The single saddest day

This notion of Blue Monday comes from an equation first circulated in 2005 by Dr Cliff Arnall. It attempted to calculate population-wide depression using a mix of variables including weather, debt, motivation, time since Christmas, and the need to take action.

The research argued that “Following the initial thrill of New Year’s celebrations and changing over a new leaf, reality starts to sink in. [This] realization coincides with the dark clouds rolling in and the obligation to pay off Christmas credit card bills.”

This summary statement was then used by Sky Travel to encourage sales of trips to sunnier climes, and Arnall’s concept of Blue Monday entered the public conscience.

Arnall is usually described as a ‘Cardiff University psychologist’. In reality, Dr Arnall briefly taught some psychology-related evening classes at the university’s adult education centre, which, apparently, makes him a Cardiff University psychologist.

Using that logic, I’m a Morrison’s supermarket manager because I once made one of their staff fetch me a discounted chicken.

These suggested factors in the equation were never meaningfully defined, let alone measurable in a way that would allow reliable comparison or prediction. More importantly, the claim collapses several psychological categories into one.

Temporary low mood is not the same as sustained mood disturbance. Mood disturbance is not the same as clinical depression. And clinical depression is not something that emerges in synchrony across an entire population on a specific weekday.

From a diagnostic perspective, depression is characterised by duration, impairment, and pervasiveness, rather than by timing. It involves persistent changes in mood, cognition, motivation, and physiological functioning that endure over time and meaningfully disrupt daily life. If a psychological condition could be reliably triggered by a particular Monday, it would not meet the threshold for a clinical diagnosis.

But that doesn’t stop the equation from popping up every year. Its creator has since apologised for creating the “meaningless” measure and claimed it was meant to “encourage people, where possible, to take a positive outlook on the time of year as an opportunity for new beginnings and change.”

Why does it feel true?

Part of the longevity of the Blue Monday myth is that it feels legitimate.

Human sensemaking is shaped as much by bias and narrative as by evidence. We are subjective beings, with each of us experiencing the world differently based on our own experiences, learned behaviours, biases, and our individual personalities.

You needn’t be an expert in psychology to recognise that January might be one of the least enjoyable months of the year: the excitement of the holidays has gone; the related bills begin rolling in; the weather is unpleasant if not downright dangerous (in the northern hemisphere, at least). It’s often cold and drab out, with summer a distant memory nearly half a year away.

It makes subjective sense that there would be a nexus of these factors that occur on a particular day.

Once the idea of Blue Monday is in circulation and that narrative makes sense to us, our confirmation bias will go looking for evidence to support that sense; even when that sense is not objectively true.

Blue Monday also functions as a temporal landmark – a symbolic point in time that invites reflection and evaluation. Research on goal pursuit shows that people are especially sensitive to these markers. They create a sense of “before” and “after”, even when nothing materially changes.

In this way, Blue Monday is less a scientific claim than a cultural story that simplifies diffuse experiences into a single, emotionally resonant moment.

The cost of pseudoscience

At first glance, this might seem harmless. If people feel low in January, and Blue Monday gives them language for that experience, what’s the problem?

The issue is not that Blue Monday acknowledges distress. It is that it misrepresents it.

Pseudoscientific explanations, particularly when repeated by media and institutions, blur important boundaries. They encourage the medicalisation of normal distress while simultaneously trivialising genuine mental illness. Depression becomes framed as something temporary, universal, and externally triggered, rather than a complex condition shaped by vulnerability, context, and duration.

People experiencing chronic depression already face significant barriers to being taken seriously. When the term “depression” is used interchangeably with tiredness, demotivation, or seasonal dissatisfaction, it loses its diagnostic clarity. Responsibility shifts from systems and sustained care to sentiment and slogans.

In effect, everyone is invited to feel “depressed” for a day, and then move on.

But, still, Blue Monday-related superficially-inspirational posts of resilience, support and listening ears appear every year. Across social media channels, people will advocate that “it’s OK to not be OK” – which, of course, it is.

These messages are well-intentioned and many are sincere. And some individuals may feel genuinely less alone because of them. But awareness without action or infrastructure is performative.

If concern for mental health peaks on a Monday and evaporates by Tuesday, the problem has not been solved – it has been scheduled. The pattern risks turning psychological wellbeing into an annual ritual rather than an ongoing commitment.

What people need is not a single day of collective empathy, but consistent access to support, psychologically informed leadership, and cultures that can tolerate vulnerability without spectacle.

A more useful way to think about January

None of this requires us to deny that January can be hard.

Low energy, demotivation, irritability, and sadness can emerge when routines are disrupted and resources are stretched. These responses are often adaptive signals, not symptoms to be eradicated. They point to fatigue, overload, or unmet needs.

Psychology gives us better tools than a single equation ever could. We could talk about the allostatic load from the cumulative toll of sustained stress or about seasonal patterns in mood, without collapsing into diagnosis. We can acknowledge expectation hangovers after periods of heightened arousal, and distinguish between distress that needs rest, and distress that needs treatment.

These distinctions allow for meaningful discussions without the confusion of medical labels, or the unintentional dismissal of subjective feelings that we might attribute to our own biases.

Can Blue Monday still be useful?

Despite its scientific emptiness, Blue Monday endures because it opens a door.

It gives organisations, leaders, and individuals permission – however briefly – to talk about mental health. If that permission leads to real action, then the day has served a function, even if the premise is false.

But that usefulness is conditional. Blue Monday should be a prompt, not a conclusion. A reminder, not a diagnosis. A starting point for conversations about workload, autonomy, support, and recovery. It is not a once-a-year absolution.

If we are serious about mental health, we must be willing to move beyond symbolic gestures and seductive explanations.

That means resisting pseudoscience, even when it feels comforting. It means holding distinctions that are psychologically accurate, even when they are less shareable. And it means recognising that wellbeing is not a mood to be corrected, but a capacity to be supported.

Mental health does not operate on a calendar. Burnout does not wait for permission. Depression does not arrive on cue. And care does not need a marketing campaign to matter.

If Blue Monday is to exist at all, let it exist as a reminder. A reminder not of how sad we are supposed to feel, but of how much work remains once the hashtag fades.

References:

American Psychiatric Association. (2022). DSM-5-TR: Diagnostic and statistical manual of mental disorders (5th ed., text rev.). American Psychiatric Publishing.

Arnall, C. (2005). Blue Monday press release [Press release]. Sky Travel.

BBC News. (2018, January 15). Blue Monday: Psychologist admits saddest day formula is meaningless. British Broadcasting Corporation. https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-wales-42686624

Dai, H., Milkman, K. L., & Riis, J. (2015). Put your imperfections behind you: Temporal landmarks spur goal initiation when they signal new beginnings. Psychological Science, 26(12), 1927–1936. https://doi.org/10.1177/0956797615605814

McEwen, B. S. (1998). Protective and damaging effects of stress mediators. New England Journal of Medicine, 338(3), 171–179. https://doi.org/10.1056/NEJM199801153380307

McEwen, B. S. (2000). Allostasis and allostatic load: Implications for neuropsychopharmacology. Neuropsychopharmacology, 22(2), 108–124. https://doi.org/10.1016/S0893-133X(99)00129-3

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