
Twice a year, 67 million Britons dutifully adjust every clock they own. Phones. Ovens. That one in the car nobody has touched since 2019. And yet, if you stopped any of those 67 million people on the street and asked why, most would shrug and mutter something about farmers.
It's not about farmers. Some farmers were actually opposed to the idea.
The story of UK clock changing is one of the quirkiest chapters in British legislative history. It involves a wealthy builder annoyed on horseback, a pamphlet with a wonderfully passive-aggressive title, a parliamentary battle that dragged on for nearly a decade, and a man who died one year before his lifelong obsession finally became law.
Petts Wood, Kent, summer of 1905. The sun is blazing at an ungodly early hour, and William Willett, a construction magnate who built grand residential estates across south-east England, is out for his pre-breakfast horse ride.
As he passes house after house, he notices every set of blinds drawn. The sun is up. All of London is still asleep. Most people would think “fair enough, it’s early” and move on. Willett did not.
He went home and started doing obsessive maths, calculating that millions of hours of daylight were being wasted every year. His conclusion? Move the clocks forward in summer. Simple, obvious, and apparently highly controversial in Edwardian England.
In 1907, Willett published a pamphlet called The Waste of Daylight. His plan was over-engineered: move clocks forward by 80 minutes via four 20-minute jumps on consecutive Sundays in April, then reverse in September.
The pamphlet caught the eye of Liberal MP Robert Pearce, who introduced the first Daylight Saving Bill to the House of Commons in 1908. Opposition was varied:
Willett spent over £3,000 distributing pamphlets, hosting meetings, and lobbying MPs. The bill was repeatedly introduced and defeated from 1908 to 1914. Willett died of influenza in March 1915, a year before the UK adopted his idea. A memorial sundial in Petts Wood stands permanently set to BST, one hour ahead of GMT.
Global conflict did what Willett could not. World War I made coal conservation urgent, as coal powered homes, factories, and military operations. By shifting clocks forward in summer, people had more daylight in the evenings, reducing the need for artificial lighting and saving vital coal for the war effort. Germany moved first, introducing Sommerzeit in April 1916. Britain followed in May.
The Summer Time Act 1916 received Royal Assent on 17 May, and on 21 May, British clocks sprang forward by one hour for the first time. It was meant to be temporary. It stuck.
After the war, the policy proved popular and helped reduce energy costs. During World War II, Britain even introduced British Double Summer Time, pushing clocks two hours ahead of GMT in summer. Between 1968 and 1971, permanent BST was trialled but abandoned due to late sunrises in northern Scotland. Today, clocks move forward at 1:00 AM on the last Sunday in March and back at 2:00 AM on the last Sunday in October.
Public opinion is roughly split 50/50. Arguments for BST include energy savings and road safety. RoSPA suggested permanent lighter evenings could prevent around 80 deaths and 212 serious road injuries annually.
Arguments against include geography. Northern areas like Scotland would see sunrises near 10:00 AM in winter under permanent BST. The EU voted to abolish seasonal changes in 2019, but the UK, post-Brexit, is not bound by that decision.
William Willett would probably be both delighted and horrified to know his idea is still in use in 2026. Delighted it worked, horrified that it still sparks debate and confuses sleep schedules twice a year.
From Edwardian horse trails to today, one man’s obsession created a system that still shapes our schedules, and the story behind it remains one of the most entertaining chapters in British legislative history.
