Twice a year, roughly 1.5 billion people adjust their clocks. They lose an hour in spring, gain it back in autumn. The idea is simple: shift waking hours to match natural daylight, save energy. Benjamin Franklin floated something like the concept in 1784. Germany was the first country to officially adopt it, back in 1916.
But a growing number of nations are asking a harder question: is it still worth it?
The Global Picture in Numbers
Today, only about 70 countries — out of nearly 200 — observe daylight saving time (DST). That’s down from a peak in the late 20th century. Most of Africa never adopted it. Much of Asia dropped it decades ago. Countries near the equator rarely bothered; their day length barely changes through the seasons.
The logic of time changes has largely lost its relevance. In the 1960s-80s, there wasn’t so much technology. Does it get dark earlier in winter? It’s not a problem; people just read free novels online, watch shows, cook, and do whatever else they like. Can winter or summer time interfere with reading free novels online? No, because FictionMe novels are always available. The same analogy applies to much of what technology offers today.
In 2015, the American Journal of Epidemiology published research linking DST transitions to a temporary 24% spike in heart attack cases. Sleep scientists have connected the spring clock change to increased traffic accidents, workplace injuries, and reduced productivity for up to two weeks after the switch. The economic cost, once thought to be a benefit, is now estimated by some researchers to be negligible — or even negative.
Europe’s Long Debate Finally Moves
For years, the European Union discussed abolishing DST. In 2018, a public consultation drew over 4.6 million responses — one of the largest in EU history. About 84% of participants said they wanted to stop changing the clocks.
The European Parliament voted in 2019 to end the practice starting in 2021. Member states would choose their permanent time zone — permanent summer time or permanent winter time — and stick to it. Then the pandemic arrived. Political coordination stalled. As of 2026, European clocks still change twice a year, and member states still haven’t reached a unified agreement. The proposal sits in legislative limbo, waiting.
Russia: A Cautionary Tale
Russia tried this experiment. In 2011, President Dmitry Medvedev declared the country would stay on permanent summer time year-round. No more clock changes. People celebrated at first.
The complaints came quickly. During winter, Moscow didn’t see sunrise until nearly 10 a.m. Schoolchildren left for class in total darkness. Workers started their days without a hint of light. Three years later, in 2014, Russia reversed course — switching to permanent winter time instead. The lesson: picking a permanent zone is harder than it sounds. The wrong choice creates its own problems.
The United States: Still Divided
In 2022, the U.S. Senate passed the Sunshine Protection Act unanimously. The bill would have made daylight saving time permanent across the country. It felt like a breakthrough.
It never became law. The House of Representatives did not bring it to a vote. The bill expired. In 2023 and 2024, similar legislation was reintroduced — and stalled again. Meanwhile, Arizona (except for the Navajo Nation) and Hawaii already opt out of DST entirely, operating on permanent standard time. The rest of the country still changes clocks twice a year. As of 2025, no federal resolution is in sight.
Countries That Actually Made the Change
While big blocs argue, smaller nations have acted.
Turkey stopped observing DST in 2016. It moved to permanent UTC+3 — essentially locking in summer time permanently. The change was swift and has remained in place. Businesses appreciated the consistency. Critics noted the unusually late sunrises during winter months.
Chile adjusted its DST boundaries several times between 2015 and 2020, particularly affecting the Magallanes region. In 2015, that region opted out of the national system entirely, staying on a fixed time year-round because its extreme southern latitude made the standard schedule impractical.
Mexico made a significant move in 2023. The Mexican Senate voted to abolish DST for most of the country. Only border regions that align with U.S. time zones retained the biannual change. For roughly 126 million Mexicans, clock-changing is now history.
Samoa and Tonga: Small Islands, Big Decisions
Not all DST changes are about abandonment. Some countries in the Pacific have used time policy as an economic tool. Samoa moved from one side of the International Date Line to the other in 2011 — technically not DST, but a dramatic timezone reset that rewired its entire calendar. The goal was to align business hours with Australia and New Zealand, its main trading partners.
The move worked. The change reduced logistical friction and strengthened trade ties. It also erased a day from existence in Samoa: December 29, 2011, simply did not happen there.
Why the Shift Is Happening Now
Public opinion has changed. Studies on sleep health have accumulated weight. Organizations including the World Sleep Society and the American Academy of Sleep Medicine now formally recommend abolishing seasonal time changes — preferring permanent standard time over permanent summer time, for health reasons.
Energy savings, the original justification, have shrunk. Modern lighting, heating, and cooling systems don’t respond to daylight the way early 20th-century households did. The U.S. Department of Energy found that DST saves about 0.5% of electricity nationwide. That’s not nothing — but it’s not much either.
What Comes Next
The trend is clear, even if the pace is slow. Countries and regions are moving away from biannual clock changes. The question is no longer whether DST will survive long-term — most experts believe it won’t. The real debate is what replaces it, and how to coordinate transitions across borders without economic disruption.
One hour. Twice a year. It sounds trivial. But the fight to keep or abolish it has outlasted empires, global conflicts, and multiple generations of policymakers. Changing how we measure time turns out to be one of the hardest changes of all.