Hour of surrender

The proposal to change Britain’s clocks has returned, this time with tacit government support.
It makes no sense — except perhaps in Brussels

Since the day I flew backwards across the International Date Line I have known that you should not mess around with time. On that occasion I left Siberia on Monday morning and arrived in Alaska the previous Sunday afternoon in time for lunch. This was and remains confusing, though it offers disproof of the old cliché that you cannot put the clock back. Though I have been to North Korea and Bhutan, I still count it among the most startling journeys I have ever taken. It lasted about an hour.

And it is about an hour that sets me — and I hope you — apart from Rebecca Harris, one of those homogenised, UHT female Tory MPs, all glowing with forward-looking verve. And gosh, she is forward-looking. She wishes us all to live an hour further forward than we already do, getting up in the dark for most of the winter, and watching Newsnight in summer while it is still light outside.