Naftali Bennett wants to borrow from Donald Trump’s playbook by creating an Israeli “DOGE” to trim unnecessary government spending. Benjamin Netanyahu, meanwhile, seems more interested in importing the new president’s style of metaphorically chopping off the heads of disobedient public officials.
Yet, allow me to take the risky—perhaps “boomer-ish”—step of suggesting we adopt Trump’s latest populist idea: ending daylight saving time (DST) and keeping the clocks fixed year-round. Until about a decade ago, daylight saving time in Israel was akin to today’s debates about funding religious institutions—a fierce battleground between secular Israelis focused on the financial advantages of extra daylight hours, and Haredim arguing that artificially adjusted clocks made prayer times impossibly inconvenient.
Each year, Israel’s Interior Minister decided the DST dates based on their background. A secular minister would start it before Passover, while a religious one ended it before Yom Kippur. The ensuing darkness became symbolic—a Tel Aviv parable of Jerusalem’s “dark regime,” and sleepy children at the Passover table became metaphors for anti-Jewish coercion from secular Israelis.
Eventually, moderate lawmakers got fed up with endless fights and passed a typically centrist compromise: DST would start after Yom Kippur and end in late March, blending both calendars. Since then, it has extended further and now lasts a full seven months.
However, times have changed. Contrary to popular belief, DST adjustments do not actually make prayer times impossible, eliminating the once-fierce religious argument. More importantly—and this is what resonates with Trump’s recent decision—the economic savings from DST are minimal. The disruption to sleep schedules and the health and productivity losses from changing clocks twice a year may outweigh the modest financial benefits. Gone are the days of streetlamp lighters.
The DST debate isn’t really about religion versus democracy; it’s between morning people and night owls. Age plays a significant role as well: parents of young children witness their kids spiraling into exhaustion and confusion when daylight lingers until 8 PM. Not to mention summer Shabbat days that seem to end only after everyone’s spirit has completely faded.
Yes, it’s a matter of perspective. In ten years, perhaps when I’m heading out for late-night fun, my opinion may shift. But even then, the question remains: why impose on half the population something unnatural, especially when the financial benefits are dubious at best? Perhaps a bit of cool darkness wouldn’t hurt.
The above is an excerpt from my Shabbat column in Yedioth Ahronoth.
