Nations are increasingly moving away from daylight saving time and raising questions about the future of clock-switching.

These days, it’s tough to get the world to agree on just about anything: From countless military conflicts over strategic territory to trade wars rooted in years-long grievances, consensus in the 21st-century world seems hard to find.

Enter daylight saving time.

For decades, the arguments in favor of switching clocks twice each year, as is widely done in Europe and North America, centered on maximizing use of natural light to promote economic efficiency. Shifting an hour of sunlight from the morning to the afternoon, when more people use it, simply added up. But when the European Union voted earlier this year to end the practice by 2021, allowing each member state to choose whether it’ll continue to do so on its own, it joined a fast-growing tide against the practice.

One by one, countries across the world are increasingly moving away from the habit first introduced in Germany a century ago.

Rasmus Andresen, 33, personifies a new generation of progressive, pan-European politics.

“It’s the third time I’m having a coffee here today,” grins Rasmus Andresen when I meet him at noon in a cafe right across from the European Parliament in Brussels. The German is just 33, but in his first year as a member of EU Parliament he has thrown himself into a flurry of activity. And since politics involves meeting a lot of people, Andresen looks quite well caffeinated.

Elected in May of this year, Andresen has already gotten himself placed on several key committees by the Green Party, including one overseeing the European budget. He worked on the Greens’ questioning of proposed members of the European Commission, essentially the EU government. In one case, it led to the Parliament voting down France’s Sylvie Goulard after a withering crossfire of questions. Andresen’s latest crusades involve attacking the government of Poland for violating LGBTQ rights and the European Union for still investing funds in fossil fuels, while in the meantime joining anti-climate change protests in Flensburg.

The jídelna is a haven for cheap eats and a slice of Czech history.

At its heart, Czech cuisine — especially lunch — is stick-to-your-ribs fare. While Michelin-starred tasting menus and vegan eateries have become commonplace on Prague’s gastro scene, the tradition of old-school canteens known as jídelny that serve up affordable, hearty and fast plates of meat-and-dumplings classics are still going strong, with lunchtime queues around the block.

But there’s more to a jídelna than getting a full meal for just 100 korunas ($4.50) in the city center. Its egalitarian appeal — it draws clientele from all walks of life — is an integral part of Czech cultural history. Thirty years after the 1989 Velvet Revolution, there are still spots where the decor and staff look like they haven’t changed in decades. In recent years, some buzzworthy places are taking the canteen tradition in a new direction — a nod to the past with modern sensibilities.