Donald Trump’s promise to end Daylight Saving Time (DST) has lit a firestorm of debate, pitting early risers against evening enthusiasts in yet another clash of American preferences.
On Friday, the president-elect took to Truth Social to declare DST “inconvenient” and “very costly to our Nation,” vowing to eliminate the twice-a-year time change if the GOP has its way. But like everything else these days, what should be a simple issue is turning into a tug-of-war over how—and when—we keep our clocks set.
Trump’s plan to scrap DST altogether leans heavily on the advice of health experts, who say Standard Time aligns better with our bodies’ natural rhythms. According to Dr. Alaina Tiani of the Cleveland Clinic, Standard Time gives us light exposure earlier in the day, which helps regulate our sleep and supports overall health. In a world where most Americans are already sleep-deprived, this sounds like a reasonable argument.
But let’s not gloss over the downsides. Making Standard Time permanent means earlier sunsets in the summer and bone-chillingly dark evenings in the winter. Picture leaving work at 5:30 p.m. in January only to step into pitch blackness. That’s not just depressing—it’s a logistical nightmare for families, commuters, and anyone who enjoys even a shred of post-work daylight. Critics, including golfers and outdoor enthusiasts, have been loud and clear: the evening sunshine we get during DST isn’t just a perk; it’s a necessity.
If this sounds familiar, it’s because the Senate already passed a bill to make DST permanent in 2022: Marco Rubio’s Sunshine Protection Act. It sailed through the upper chamber with bipartisan support, but then the House quietly let it die, burying any chance of ending the time-switching madness. Why? Your guess is as good as mine. Bureaucratic inertia? Political wrangling? Maybe someone in Congress really loves setting their clock back an hour in November.
The divide over DST reflects more than just health recommendations or policy preferences—it’s a cultural clash. Early risers (those mythical creatures who thrive at 6 a.m.) swear by Standard Time, arguing it lets them start their day with the sun. But night owls and busy workers—who’d like to do more than eat dinner in the dark—say the extended evening sunlight during DST gives them precious hours to live their lives after work.
This isn’t just a theoretical argument. Data from DST-friendly nations shows that evening light boosts retail sales, encourages outdoor activity, and even reduces energy consumption. Meanwhile, those pushing for Standard Time point to improved sleep and reduced health risks like heart attacks and strokes during the switch back and forth.
By staking his position on ending DST, Trump is tapping into an issue most Americans agree on: the time-change is annoying. But the details of how to end it—Standard Time or DST—could splinter that support. A unified country wanting to end clock-switching could quickly devolve into yet another polarized debate.
And don’t think this won’t have political ripple effects. Trump’s push for Standard Time could alienate suburban families and the leisure industry while winning over health advocates and tired parents. Meanwhile, his opponents will likely seize on the darkness of a 4:45 p.m. sunset in December to paint his policy as “anti-worker.”
