iStockphoto/Getty Images/iStockphoto
The question
I have three young children, none of whom own their own devices – for a number of reasons. When we go to restaurants, we consider it a treat and spend the time talking. My youngest often winds up on my lap but is getting better … slowly but surely. We were recently in a family restaurant and my kids pointed out that every child and many parents seated around us were playing with phones and iPads at their tables. One father was tapping away at his phone while the son was watching a video and the wife was staring at the wall and absentmindedly sipping her wine. At another table, the youngest was reclined on the booth chair watching a video while a brother tapped his phone and a sister played with another device. Meals are supposed to be social gatherings and involve connection over food and conversation. WDYT? And, if so many kids are doing this now, what will dining out look like in 15 years?
The answer
WDYT means "What do you think," I'm guessing?
Hmmm. I feel like I'm being teed up a little too handily for a rant here: "I've got an idea: Let's toss that curmudgeonly humour columnist Dave a question about how cellphones are ruining dinner conversation and watch him go off like a string of cheap firecrackers."
Don't get me wrong: I will do that rant. But first I want to say something.
Cellphones have improved life for me (and humanity) in numerous ways. First, as a parent: Each of my three teenage boys got a shiny new cellphone when they entered Grade 7, so they could walk to school alone and have all kinds of other shiny new freedoms – as long as they stay in touch. Good for me, good for them.
And in some ways I think "the art of conversation" has benefited. Gather round, kids, while I tell you back in ye olden days of yore, a typical conversation might go like this:
Wife: "Hon, what was the name of the actress who was the sexy one on Golden Girls?"
Husband: "No clue." (Goes back to watching TV. End of conversation.)
Now, as we know, they're more like:
Wife: "Hon, what was the name of the actress who was the sexy one on Golden Girls?"
Husband: "No clue." (Goes back to watching TV. Wife whips out phone, starts tapping.)
Wife: "Rue McClanahan. Born in Oklahoma in 1934, died in 2010. She played sexy southern belle Blanche Devereaux on all seven seasons of The Golden Girls from 1985 to 1992, earning an Emmy for outstanding lead actress in 1987," etc., etc.
In other words, they're handy for looking up stuff. Now it's at the point where, if my wife asks me some factual question, I'll say: "Do I look like a phone? Ask your phone."
But yes (rant time), I think that, apart from providing encyclopedic background factoids, cellphones are ruining "the art of conversation" in the 21st century. Is there anything more dispiriting than being in the middle of a chat with someone who slips a phone out of his or her pocket and peeks at it while you're talking?
Then eventually looks up: "Uh-huh, hmmm, uh – sorry, what were you saying?"
I've been at "social" gatherings where I've looked around and every single person is staring at a phone. Makes me wish I brought a book.
Is there any question that, as our phones get smarter, we're getting dumber? Walking into traffic, phone poles and oncoming trains, pedestrians getting killed – all for what? So we can learn from social media some guy we avoided in high school just had a hamburger for lunch?
You don't mention the age of your children, but if one's still climbing in your lap I'm guessing they're still quite young. This is just OMO (one man's opinion), but I see no reason a kid needs a phone before the age of, say, 11 or 12.
(Apart from everything else, they're expensive, and kids lose stuff at that age. My kids have even been mugged for theirs.)
The other thing going on here is we take our children to restaurants, in part, to civilize them, or at least used to – to teach them to sit still, behave in a way that doesn't draw attention. You're doing that. So WDIT? Stay the course, basically. Resist the pressure to conform. Your kids find it a "treat" to chat with you at a restaurant, and so do you. Why change that? If it ain't broke, don't fix it.
My only advice here, ultimately, is: Feel sad for all the other diners pinned to their phones, and pat yourselves on the back for not being like them.
Which, I have a funny feeling, is what you hoped I would say.
Special to The Globe and Mail
Are you in a sticky situation? Send your dilemmas to damage@globeandmail.com. Please keep your submissions to 150 words and include a daytime contact number so we can follow up with any queries.