A Rite of Passage in a World That Moves Clocks
When my husband and I moved from Phoenix to Salt Lake City this year, we assumed adjusting to a new time zone would be simpler than learning the city’s labyrinthine roadways. But on the morning of November 1, 2026, as we stared at the clock on our kitchen wall, we realized Arizona has long rejected daylight saving time. “We both had to Google a few amateur questions,” the author of a Deseret News column noted, “What time does daylight saving time start? 2 a.m. Do I have to manually change anything? Not with a smartphone, no.” The ritual of resetting clocks, once an abstract concept, now felt like a test of our adaptability.
The Arizona Exception: A Climate-Driven Decision
Arizona’s decision to opt out of daylight saving time in 1968 wasn’t just a quirk of geography—it was a response to the harsh realities of its climate. The state’s extreme summer heat made the “extra hour of daylight” a burden, not a benefit. Before 1967, residents faced sunsets as late as 9 p.m., forcing them to delay evening activities. The state’s choice to remain on Mountain Standard Time permanently was a pragmatic one, rooted in the desire to avoid the energy costs and discomfort of extended daylight during peak heat. “It doesn’t seem like Arizonans are alone in that unhappiness either,” the article noted, citing a 2025 Gallup poll showing over 50% of Americans are ready to get rid of daylight saving time.
The history of daylight saving time in the U.S. is a patchwork of wartime necessity and local resistance. The practice began in 1918 during World War I, but was repealed a year later. It returned during World War II and was formalized in the 1966 Uniform Time Act, which allowed states to opt out. Arizona’s exemption, solidified in 1968, made it one of only two states—alongside Hawaii—to skip the biannual clock shifts. Even the Navajo Nation, which spans parts of Arizona, New Mexico, and Utah, does observe daylight saving time, creating a peculiar geographic divide within the Grand Canyon State.
The National Debate: Trump’s Push for Permanence
The author’s experience in Salt Lake City intersects with a broader political struggle. In 2026, President Donald Trump’s “No More Changing of Clocks Act” was still pending Senate approval, despite passing the House in July. The bill, which would make daylight saving time permanent, has drawn both support and skepticism. On Oct. 3, Trump posted about Sen. Tom Cotton on Truth Social: “For some reason, Tom is stopping the Bill and, in the Senate, it’s very easy to do, it only takes one!” He called it “a very nice and easy WIN for the Republican Party.” The author’s concern about “darkness by the time we leave work” reflects a common worry: that longer evenings come at the cost of shorter mornings, disrupting routines and energy use.
A 2025 Deseret News and Hinckley Institute of Politics poll found 82% of Utahns supported eliminating the practice, a figure that mirrors national trends. Yet, as the author discovered, the transition isn’t without its charms. “We are excited for an extra hour of sleep,” they wrote, a sentiment that underscores the personal stakes of a policy often framed in abstract terms.
Arizona Culture Reflects Standard Time Choices
For Americans living in states that don’t observe daylight saving time, the debate is more than theoretical. Arizona’s decision has shaped its culture, from the timing of outdoor activities to the design of its infrastructure. The state’s refusal to “spring forward” or “fall back” has also influenced its energy consumption patterns. According to the Arizona State Digital Library, the state’s continued use of Mountain Standard Time has led to a benefit that critics of the practice argue is lost when clocks are adjusted.
The author’s anecdote about arriving at school just as the bell rang highlights how deeply embedded the practice is in daily routines, even for those who don’t participate.
The Hidden Cost to the Suburbs
While the debate often focuses on energy savings and public health, the social costs are equally significant. The author’s experience in Salt Lake City also touches on a larger cultural shift. As more states consider permanent daylight saving time, the conversation is evolving from a technical policy debate to a discussion about quality of life. “I prefer my Arizona roots,” the author wrote, a sentiment that reflects a broader longing for stability in an increasingly fragmented world.
The future of daylight saving time remains uncertain. While the Trump administration’s bill has stalled, the momentum for change is growing. Whether the practice will be eliminated or made permanent, the personal stories—like the author’s—will continue to shape the national conversation. For now, the author and their husband are navigating their first “fall back,” a small but significant step in a journey that began with a simple question: What time does daylight saving time start?
