How New Habits Stick: Scriveiner’s Practical Approach

Hanna Struk
2025-12-18T12:28:31+00:00

The idea of starting a new habit on the first day of a new week, a new month, or a new year has been with us long enough to become a meme. It often reads as effort without follow-through, an intention that sadly fades.

Many of us can relate. How many Amazon purchases were made with the best intentions? How many gym memberships were cancelled? How many beautiful notebooks remain empty because life never quite slows down enough to begin?

As the season of reflection and New Year’s resolutions approaches, we spend a great deal of time at Scriveiner thinking about why people want to write, and why so many good intentions quietly fall away. Habits, as it turns out, sit at the centre of that question.

Habit system refers to the structure that supports a repeated behaviour: the cues that trigger it, the ease of starting, the environment it fits into, and the small rewards that reinforce it. Unlike goals, which focus on outcomes, a habit system focuses on consistency and integration into daily life, making long-term change more sustainable.

In this article, we explore the science behind habit formation and share a method we’ve tested ourselves, many times, with real results. Much of what follows is inspired by Atomic Habits by James Clear. If parts of this sound familiar, that’s intentional. And if this article sends you back to the book, or encourages you to read it for the first time, that’s a good outcome.

So, shall we?

Why Do We Seek New Habits?

We usually turn to new habits at moments of transition. A new year, a birthday, a change in routine: these moments give us psychological permission to reset. Habits represent hope: a belief that small changes can move us closer to the person we want to become.

At their core, habits are identity-driven. We don’t just want to run, we want to be someone who runs. We don’t just want to write, we want to see ourselves as writers. This is why habits feel so personal, and why failing to maintain them can feel disproportionately disappointing.

Why Don’t Our Habits Stay?

Most habits fail not because we lack motivation, but because we expect too much, too quickly. We design habits that compete with our existing routines instead of fitting into them.

Common pitfalls include:

starting with goals that are too ambitious

relying on willpower instead of systems

treating habits as temporary challenges rather than ongoing practices

tying success to results instead of consistency

In short, we aim for transformation when what we need is integration.

The Way to Create Atomic Habits

The word atomic doesn’t imply something dramatic. Quite the opposite. It refers to the smallest meaningful unit: changes so small they feel almost effortless, yet powerful when repeated daily.

These changes are small enough to fit naturally into your routine, yet significant enough to compound over time. A week passes. A month follows. And suddenly, something has shifted.

James Clear describes four core principles (or Laws) that make habits stick.

Make It Obvious

Habits rarely fail because we forget about them. They fail because nothing in our environment reminds us to act. The human brain is exceptionally good at responding to cues, and remarkably poor at relying on pure intention.

Making a habit obvious means removing ambiguity about when and where it happens. A habit with a clear trigger doesn’t compete for attention; it becomes the default response. Visual cues matter more than motivation, because they work even when motivation is low.

This is why environmental design is so powerful. Objects placed in sight, tools left ready, and spaces arranged with intention reduce the need for decision‑making. When the brain doesn’t have to choose, it simply follows the path already laid out. Clarity lowers friction. And when a habit is obvious, it no longer feels like an effort — it feels like part of the day.

Make It Attractive

We repeat behaviours that feel rewarding. If a habit offers only distant benefits, it struggles to survive in daily life. Attraction creates pull, not pressure.

Making a habit attractive doesn’t require excitement or intensity. Often, it’s about subtle emotional rewards: calm, relief, pride, or a sense of alignment with who we want to be. Identity plays a quiet but crucial role here: we’re more likely to act in ways that reinforce the person we believe we are becoming.

Pairing a habit with something pleasant lowers resistance. Framing it as something you get to do, rather than something you should do, changes the emotional tone entirely. When a habit feels emotionally rewarding, consistency becomes far more natural.

Make It Easy

This is the most commonly misunderstood law. Making a habit easy doesn’t mean lowering standards; it means reducing friction at the start.

Starting is the hardest part of any habit. Once an action is underway, continuing often requires far less effort. This is why habits should fit into existing routines instead of competing with them.

Scaling a habit down isn’t a sign of laziness. It’s a strategic choice that builds trust in yourself. Small, repeatable actions create momentum, and momentum strengthens identity. Consistency, not intensity, is what wires habits into the brain.

Make It Satisfying

The brain learns through reward. Even habits with long‑term benefits need some form of immediate confirmation to stick. Satisfaction doesn’t have to be dramatic. It can be symbolic, like ticking a box, closing a notebook, or noticing a clearer mind. What matters is the sense of completion.

Tracking progress creates a feedback loop: action leads to acknowledgement, which reinforces behaviour. Showing up matters more than performing perfectly. Missing once is human. Missing twice risks breaking the chain. Satisfaction helps keep the loop intact.

Enough Theory. Let’s Look at Real Life Cases

How Hanna Started Running

Hanna is a writer at Scriveiner. She shared that during the pandemic years, she discovered running and grew to love it. As life resumed its pace with work, events, and obligations, running slowly disappeared from her routine. The pressure of “getting back to where I was” became paralysing.

The shift began with letting go of expectations. Instead of forcing herself to run, Hanna made movement obvious by turning walks into a deliberate activity, choosing routes she enjoyed and treating them as events in their own right.

Walking was easy. It fit naturally into her schedule and required no recovery, no pressure, no performance metrics. Over time, distances increased without conscious effort.

Running returned slowly. Once a week, for just 20 minutes, at a pace intentionally slower than her previous norm. The commitment wasn’t speed or distance. It was time and the rule of showing up. One clear hour on Saturday to get ready, run, stretch and recover, reserved and predictable.

The habit became attractive through experience. Nature routes, fresh air, and a sense of exploration replaced obligation. Signing up for a modest trail run added anticipation without intimidation.

The rewards were tangible. Medals, improved stamina, clearer skin, and confidence reinforced the habit. At the time of writing, Hanna trains regularly and continues to build on what started as a small, deliberate change.

How Matthew Started Journalling

Matthew is 45, a Londoner, and a busy man. When we met him at a pen show, he spoke of a long-held dream to write a book, one that had stayed with him since the age of twelve. The desire was always there; the starting point was not.

After reading Atomic Habits, Matthew chose to stop treating “writing a book” as a single goal. Instead, he focused on understanding what interested him and capturing thoughts as they appeared.

His first notebook failed because it had no clear place in his routine. The second attempt worked because it removed friction: notes taken on his phone, instantly, wherever he was.

Over time, a pattern emerged. After lunch, sitting at his desk, his thoughts slowed down. Writing became obvious there. A notebook placed intentionally on the desk created a clear cue. A reliable pen — in Matthew’s case, a Scriveiner — helped remove another small point of friction, one less excuse not to begin.

The habit stayed easy. One sentence was enough. Skipping two days in a row was not allowed. No pressure to be insightful, only to show up.

What made journaling attractive wasn’t productivity, but clarity. Writing cleared mental noise. The reward was immediate.

At the time of writing this article, Matthew has learned to recognise and work with his fears around writing. He has found his voice and now dedicates an additional 30 minutes a day to working on his book.

A book about journalling itself.

Habits Are Not Goals but Systems

Goals give us direction, but they rarely sustain action. Habits do. What makes a habit stick isn’t ambition or self-control, but the system that supports it: the cues, the ease of starting, the small rewards along the way.

This is why so many New Year's resolutions fail. They are built around outcomes, not environments. Around intention, not repetition. When the excitement fades, there is nothing left to hold the behaviour in place.

Hanna didn’t become a runner simply by deciding to run again. Matthew didn’t become a writer only by wanting to write a book. Both built systems that made showing up easier than giving up. When habits are designed thoughtfully, progress becomes a side effect.

Start Small. Start Where You Are. Build Gradually.

If there is one lesson worth carrying into the new year, it’s this: meaningful change rarely begins with dramatic decisions. It begins with small, repeatable actions that fit the life you already have.

You don’t need a perfect plan. You don’t need the right moment. You don’t even need clarity. You only need a place to start, and permission to keep it small. One walk taken. One page read. One sentence written. One topic learned.

Habits don’t ask you to become someone new overnight. They allow you to grow into that person, gradually, through what you do every day. And that is how habits are built to last.