One of the things that we decided to do on our move to Berkeley was to do without a television for a while. To some extent, this was a non-decision decision. If we wanted cable, I needed to call Comcast and subscribe. It didn’t seem a priority when I moved in, and I discovered that (possibly because of my technical shortcomings) the televisions in our rental house received terrestrial signals abominably. So, before I flew back to London to return with my family, I stored the house’s existing televisions in a few of the closets.

On day one, my two boys asked about the television, but we said there wasn’t one. When an open closet a few days later revealed a very large television, we said it didn’t work (which is partly true).

The result? I have to say that both my wife and I think our children are happier and better behaved. This might be the cumulative effect of many wonderful aspects of California, but I think the no-TV policy has something to do with it. Of course, there are times when we wish we could just plonk the kids in front of the TV and not be bothered. We’ve played more games as a family and done more stuff, which does demand effort and attention from us, the parents. That is, needless to say, a good thing, but there are times any parent wants to switch off. The much-hoped-for nirvana of children finding things for themselves to do does seem that much nearer.

What about the effect on us, the adults? I have to say I haven’t once wished I could turn on the TV. That may change come the US Open tennis, but I think I’ll do just fine.

(Incidentally, our TV-less idyll will be broken starting tomorrow. We’re going up to Tahoe, and the house we’re staying in there has a fully cabled-up television. I hope it doesn’t create any renewed withdrawal pains when we return to Berkeley next week.)