At one second past midnight on January 1, the day will change from Saturday to Sunday, normally insignificant. But somehow, we’ve decided that this change is different. This unique tick of the clock has always prompted us to celebrate and to step outside the day-to-day activity we’re always busy with to reflect on how we did and resolve to do better. Save perhaps for our birthdays, no other moment in our year gets this sort of attention.

     Why does the start of the new year carry such special symbolism? Behavior this ubiquitous must surely be tied to something profoundly meaningful and important, given all the energy and resources we invest not just in the celebration but in our efforts to make good on a fresh set of resolutions, even though we mostly fail to keep them. It may be that the symbolism we attach to this moment is rooted in one of the most powerful motivations of all: our motivation to survive.

     The celebration part is obvious. As our birthdays do, New Year’s Day provides us the chance to celebrate having made it through another 365 days, the unit of time by which we keep the chronological score of our lives. Phew! Another year is over, and here we still are! Time to raise our glasses and toast our survival. 

     But what about those resolutions? New Year’s resolutions are examples of the universal human desire to have some control over what lies ahead because the future is unsettlingly unknowable. Not knowing what’s to come means we don’t know what we need to keep ourselves safe. To counter that worrisome powerlessness, we do things to take control. We resolve to diet and exercise, quit smoking, and start saving. It doesn’t even matter whether we hold our resolve and make good on these promises. Committing to them, gives us a feeling of more control over the uncertain days to come.

A study by psychologist Richard Wiseman found that for many of us what U2 sang is true: “Nothing changes on New Year’s Day.” 

     New Year’s resolutions also commonly include things like treating people better, making new friends and paying off debts. The Babylonians would return borrowed objects. Jews seek and offer forgiveness. The Scots go “first footing,” visiting neighbors to wish them well. How does all this social resolving connect to survival? Simple: We are social animals. We have evolved to depend on others for our health and safety. Treating people well is a good way to be treated well. “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you” is a great survival strategy.

And many people resolve to pray more. That makes sense in terms of survival, too: Pray more and an omnipotent force is more likely to keep you safe. Jews pray at the start of their new year to be inscribed in the Book of Life for one more year. And though death is inescapable, throughout history humans have dealt with the fear of mortality by affiliating with religions that promise happy endings. Pray more, and death is less scary.

     There are hundreds of good-luck rituals woven among New Year celebrations, also practiced in the name of exercising a little control over fate. The Dutch, for whom the circle is a symbol of success, eat donuts. Greeks bake special Vassilopitta cake with a coin inside, bestowing good luck in the coming year on whoever finds it in his or her slice. Fireworks on New Year’s Eve started in China millennia ago as a way to chase off evil spirits. The Japanese hold New Year’s Bonenkai, or “forget-the-year parties,” to bid farewell to the problems and concerns of the past year and prepare for a better new one. Disagreements and misunderstandings between people are supposed to be resolved, and grudges set aside. In a New Year’s ritual for many cultures, houses are scrubbed to sweep out the bad vibes and make room for better ones.

     It’s fascinating to see how common so much of this is: Fireworks. Good-luck rituals. Resolutions to give us the pretense of control over the future. New Year’s is a moment to consider our weaknesses and how we might reduce the vulnerabilities they pose—and to do something about the scary powerlessness that comes from thinking about the unsettling unknown of what lies ahead. As common as these shared behaviors are across both history and culture, it’s fascinating to realize that the special ways that people note this unique passage of one day into the next are all manifestations of the human animal’s fundamental imperative for survival.

     So, how do you reassure yourself against the scariest thing the future holds, the inescapable reality that you will someday die? Pass the donuts, the Vassilopitta and the grapes, light the fireworks, and raise a glass to toast: “To survival!”