I don’t like Daylight Saving Time. There, I said it. I spent the past winter in Southwest Florida. For the first two months, this literally meant “rise and shine,” as the a.m. sunlight would coincide with waking time and the beginning of the work day. Even better, with a dining room that faces west and floor-to-ceiling glass sliding doors, dinner and sunset worked in perfect harmony.
Those were the good old days. As the calendar flipped to March and DST, my world transitioned to pitch black darkness as I booted up the computer and blinding light at supper time. Cue the shades.
That’s enough about me and my issues. Other societal arguments against DST include more exposure to light at night which can disrupt sleep, the danger to children waiting at bus stops or walking to school in the dark, and an increase in traffic accidents. The American Academy of Sleep Medicine, in fact, has called for a ban to Daylight Saving Time; that proposal, per reports, has been endorsed by more than 20 medical, scientific and civic organizations.
But as a wordsmith and editor, what bothers me the most is the lazy and deceptive language associated with DST. First and foremost, there is no daylight savings. We don’t gain an hour of daylight each day. And the most cringeworthy—the days don’t get longer. “Days” last 24 hours. In the months we’re on Daylight Saving Time, we’re simply reassigning one hour of daylight from the a.m. to the p.m. As we’re no longer an agrarian society and remote work has created a rolling day for many, we no longer need to “buy” that hour at the end of the day for that round of golf. Let’s call it the classic bait and switch.
Do you like your light in the morning or at night? That’s really the question. I’ll take mine earlier, thank you. Have a nice day.