A Room That Doesn’t Compete With Itself

Why I never installed televisions in my taproom.

The ultimate taproom is the one where people don’t feel the need to look at screens for distraction.

That may sound like a small thing. But it’s surprisingly rare.

Since the beginning, I’ve resisted adding televisions in the Petit-Sault taproom. A couple of times, I was pressured into putting on the game. Apparently, who won had direct implications for the future of geopolitics.

So no TVs. Not out of some aversion to television. As an 80s kid, I was raised and lectured and entertained by TV. The reason is simpler. My brain is wired to notice screens. Put one in a room and attention drifts toward it automatically, whether the content matters or not. I’m bored, I reach for the phone. Not intention. Reflex.

I realized this years ago in a restaurant with my family.

A golf tournament, or maybe cricket, was playing on the television across the room. I don’t follow golf. I don’t understand cricket. I couldn’t have cared less who was playing. And yet I caught myself watching it. Not out of interest. Out of reflex.

The screen was there. My brain responded. Like a cat following a laser dot.

Once you notice this, it’s hard to ignore. Screens don’t just display information. They pull attention. Even when the content means nothing to you.

That’s why I never installed televisions in the taproom.

The goal wasn’t to create a rule. It was simply to create a room that didn’t compete with itself for attention.

Phones are different. Someone pulls one out to text a friend to join them. Someone else snaps a photo of a beer they liked.

But the best taprooms share a particular quality. Once people settle in, the room becomes more interesting than the device.

Conversation takes over.

Someone asks what you’re drinking. Someone else recounts the idiotic thing their co-worker did, again. A person recommends a playlist to the bartender. A group at the next table starts debating which game to play, Trivial Pursuit or UNO. Two people who arrived separately end up sitting together.

None of this is dramatic. That’s the point.

Beer is a slow technology.

It asks people to sit down, stay a while, and share the same space. It doesn’t speed anything up.

And when that works, something small but noticeable occurs.

The phone stays in the pocket.

For a while, the room is enough.

The ultimate taproom is not the one with the most taps or the newest releases. It’s the one where the room itself holds your attention.

It’s the one where people don’t feel the need to look at screens for distraction.

That’s the room we tried to build at Petit-Sault.