Change is hard | Sur in English
Daylight Saving Time (DST) was dreamed up as a wartime fix for a world that no longer exists. It aimed to stretch precious fuel by shifting an hour of daylight into the evening. Eight decades later, diversified energy sources and smarter grids keep the power on through most storms, raising a simple question: why are we still changing the clocks twice a year?
Recent turmoil reminds us that energy stability is never guaranteed. Conflicts and geopolitical tensions have driven up global gas and oil prices and exposed Europe’s dependence on external suppliers. That vulnerability has nudged some countries back toward nuclear power and spurred governments to cushion households from price shocks. In that context, some still argue that longer light in the evening helps reduce household lighting needs at the margins.
Even so, the case against DST is stronger than ever. Modern studies suggest the energy savings are minimal to nonexistent. Meanwhile, the disruption to our internal clocks is real. When we force a sudden one-hour jump, we fight biology: our circadian rhythms are tuned to natural light and darkness, not to administrative time. Health researchers have linked the clock change to short-term increases in heart attacks, strokes, workplace injuries and traffic accidents, as well as several groggy mornings that can drag down productivity and mood.
Endocrinologists often explain it this way: the body’s “master clock” is set by light cues. When we redefine time arbitrarily, we throw that system off, especially in the spring. Some people adjust in a day; others take a week or more. Multiply that friction by millions and you get a nationwide bout of jet lag—without any of the joys of travel.
Globally, the trend is moving away from the biannual switch. Only about a third of countries still change their clocks. In recent years, more nations have scrapped the ritual altogether, opting for a stable year-round time. The economic costs of fiddling with schedules, missed meetings and sleepy mornings are not trivial either; estimates in large economies run into the billions annually in lost or misallocated labor.
Spain has repeatedly pushed for the European Union to end the practice. Ahead of the most recent autumn clock change, Spain urged Brussels to revive a shelved proposal to abolish DST. The idea isn’t new: years ago, EU leaders floated a plan to stop the biannual shifts, asking member states to pick a permanent standard or summer time and stick with it. Public sentiment seemed clear then—surveys found a strong majority of Europeans in favor of dropping the clock change, with support in Spain even higher.
Why, then, is it so hard to let go? Partly because any continental decision must balance diverse latitudes, lifestyles and winter daylight realities. What feels sensible in Andalusia can feel bleak in Helsinki. There’s also the perennial question: if we lock the time, do we choose standard time (closer to solar noon) or summer time (brighter evenings)? Each choice has winners and losers—morning commuters, schoolchildren, late-shift workers, nightlife and tourism all experience time differently.
Yet there’s a compelling middle path: pick one time and keep it, ideally leaning toward what best matches the sun to support sleep, learning and safety. Businesses, schools and social life are highly adaptable; they’ll coordinate around reliable daylight patterns better than around jolting, twice-yearly shifts. Consistency itself brings benefits: predictable mornings, steadier routines, and fewer health and safety blips caused by abrupt clock changes.
As for the cherished long evenings of a Spanish summer: they’ll still be long and warm without adjusting the clocks. The Mediterranean sun will keep terraces lively well into the night, and people will continue to shape their schedules around heat and light as they always have. What we’d lose is not the glow of summer, but the needless shock to our bodies each spring and autumn.
Change is hard, especially when it involves unwinding a tradition that has become habit. But sticking with a permanent, sensible time would reduce confusion, smooth daily life and support public health with negligible downside for energy use. With so many countries already making the switch, and with citizens consistently signaling their preference, Europe—and Spain with it—has a clear chance to stop turning the national clock into a twice-yearly stress test.
Here’s hoping this is the final season we all fumble for our phones on a Sunday morning, wondering why the alarm feels wrong—and the last year we ask our bodies to play catch-up for no good reason.
