Many a self-respecting woman has delivered the classic line “Um, honey, my eyes are here.” This scolding—often administered over a restaurant table—is usually reserved for those occasions when a man has channelled his inner caveman. Having inhaled the last of his steak, he fixates on another type of meat.

But recently, when we’ve been out for romantic dinners, I haven’t been rerouting my husband’s attention from my womanly endowments. Even if I was sitting there, sporting Pamela Anderson’s wedding bikini, I doubt I could sustain his attention for three seconds (incidentally, the same length of time as Pammy’s most recent marriage to Kid Rock).

No, his eyes are compulsively darting at a television screen. And, though the box is also referred to as the boob tube, the only cups my hubby is staring at are jockstraps. It started with the odd TV set in a sports bar, but now televisions are creeping into more public spaces, including pubs, martini bars and restaurants. Mounted in every conceivable nook and cranny, they leave once cute eateries looking more like Future Shop.

The ubiquitous television screen has a lot of company: Between cellphones, BlackBerrys, iPods and the internet—not to mention the new all-in-one iPhones—modern couples are grappling with an orgy of electronic distractions that sap their quality time together. In some households, the devices are treated like family members, sitting at the table during dinner and laid to rest at night.

But giving more attention to your phone than your spouse is not sending a good message. “If something interrupts a conversation, it says that the thing that’s interrupting is more important,” says Warren Thorngate, a professor of social psychology at Carleton University in Ottawa. He recalls a quaint old term called “the art of conversation,” which is now becoming a relic of the past, thanks in part to cultural norms that developed around the land line. “No matter how intense your conversation,” he says, “it’s ‘Oh my goodness, the phone is ringing! Excuse me, we’ll get back to your abortion. I have to take this call!’”

Take that attitude and multiply it by millions of mobile devices (Statistics Canada currently counts 17.2 million wireless subscribers) and it’s no wonder that gadgets are becoming a distraction to relationships—and everything else. And even when it’s not ringing, some users actually think it is due to a new phenomenon known as “ringxiety,” or “fauxcellarm,” in which a specific frequency (triggered by music, running water or a blow-dryer) tricks them into hearing their ringtone and sends them running for their precious phone. But real or imagined, vibrate or tone, classic ring or new Justin Timberlake download, taking a call in the middle of a bubble bath for two is definitely not bringing sexy back.

For Wendy*, the enemy is no hallucination; it’s the “other woman”—her boyfriend’s CrackBerry. During their courtship, her beau, David*, who works for a sporting-goods company, was on his best behaviour. “He would pick me up, turn his BlackBerry off and put it in the glove compartment,” she says. But as the relationship progressed and career pressure increased, the BlackBerry became a third wheel—literally—as Wendy could detect the subtle yet irksome sound of the scroll wheel clicking non-stop. Recently, they visited a posh restaurant, where the tables come with whimsical canopies. Though she was forewarned that he was expecting work-related calls, she didn’t anticipate tucking into her food alone while he chatted—loudly—for half an hour. “Even though I knew he needed to take the calls, I was getting kind of sulky because I had expectations for the evening,” she says.

Vancouver etiquette expert Carey McBeth says that techno tools can be indispensable to couples when they’re physically apart (she communicates with her long-distance beau via text messaging), but says that they can just as easily keep them apart while they’re together if manners fall by the wayside.

“I don’t think a lot of people realize how offensive they are to the company that they’re in,” says McBeth. If you’re in the middle of an important conversation or a meal, the proper etiquette is simple: Just don’t answer, she says. If it’s urgent, excuse yourself and step out of the room. (Note: Texting under the table is just as illegal—and nobody is impressed by the new girth of your thumbs.)

If overuse has left you feeling like Pavlov’s dog when the cellphone summons, here’s some kibble for thought: Unless you’re a paramedic, how often are you getting that “I’m bleeding to death—help me!” call versus “Would you mind grabbing some Trident on your way home?” “When you look at what people talk about on cellphones, 99 percent of the time they’re things that don’t even matter,” says Leslie Chan, a University of Toronto professor who studies the impact of new media on social practices. “I mean, people pick up their cellphones when they get off the train to say ‘The train just got in.’”

Chan claims that the hype is industry driven. “We’re constantly bombarded by cellphone commercials that play on fears that we need to be connected, like needing to get help if we get stranded somewhere or needing to know where our kids are and so on,” he says. “We need to step back and say ‘Are these real needs, or are they just being pushed on us?’”

Case in point: Engaged Victoria couple Christel Mudie and Jason Taylor. Their move away from technology began as a lifestyle choice. There were few TV programs they enjoyed, so they decided there were other ways they’d rather spend their time. When they realized how much time not watching TV shows afforded them, they decided to nix all superfluous technology from their lives. Neither has a cellphone, and they don’t have internet access at home. But the absence of this technology in their lives has not spelled severed limbs or untold tragedy for them. Instead, they fill the void by walking, playing games, reading and—yes siree—good old-fashioned chit-chat.

Jason estimates that they’ve freed up a couple of extra hours of quality time every day. “You’re forced to actually ask each other questions that you never would have otherwise,” he says. “You’re thinking about the other person and what’s going on in their head.”

“We only have so much time in the day,” says Prof. Chan. “The more devices we have, the more time we spend on those devices and forgetting about those who are close to us.”

As for my loathing of idiot boxes in bars and restaurants, an impulsive move from Canada to England has proven to be a surprise antidote. Pubs there keep the screens to a minimum, and when there isn’t a specific match of some peculiar game on (cricket, horse racing, soccer or darts), they’re switched off.

What does that leave? Just the company and a blank canvas. And the English choose to paint it with—you guessed it—none other than the art of conversation.

*Names have been changed.

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