Separate, but Equal? Equitable? A take on modern public restrooms

Separate, but Equal? Equitable? A take on modern public restrooms

In most public and quasi-public spaces, restrooms are binary-gendered, with the occasional “family restroom” for those who need some assistance “toileting”. The one or two “handicap stalls” in mainstream restrooms are generally also the only places where parents can go to change their babies’ diapers. For those of us into historical costuming and hoop-skirt cosplay, often those wider entrances are also necessary for manipulating our farthingales, bustles, and crinolines. (Talk about cramming a lot of need into a single bathroom stall!)

Aside from the tendency to design public restrooms with mostly narrow stalls (and men’s rooms with more exposed and semi-exposed urinals than fully-closed toilet stalls), equality and equity can be considered functions of the relative number of stalls, their gendering (if any), usage patterns (does everyone rush for the restrooms all at once, or is the need equally spread throughout the day?) and the frequency with which they are cleaned and restocked.

Consider, for example, a movie theater. At the end of a popular film, there’s a mad rush for the bathrooms (fueled, one suspects, by extra-large popcorn buckets served with liter-plus cups of soda). It seems that no matter how many more stalls the women’s room has, its line will always be longer than the line for the men’s room. This is generally a function of women’s clothing, which must be removed in the stall prior to relieving oneself (and pulled back up afterwards), whereas most of the time men just need to unzip their pants. Women are also more likely to wash their hands after toileting, while men often just zip up and head on their merry ways. In a nongendered toilet environment — such as a line of portable toilets at a county fair — all people who don’t need the extra-large handicapped toilet will have similar wait times, regardless of gender. (The wait for the handicapped stalls may be longer.)

That said, degendering public restrooms may not be as obvious an answer as it might seem. While replacing two or three single- or double-stall gendered bathrooms with two or three non-gendered rooms with urinals and changing tables will work well in a low-volume restaurant or in a row of port-a-potties at the county fair, the solution doesn’t easily scale up to a 12-screen movie theater with IMAX, Real-3D, and other popular viewing options.

While “stand to pee” would still (generally) have the quickest lines in this high-volume scenario, perhaps the best option would be, instead of having “men’s” and “women’s” restrooms, have non-gendered facilities with at least twice as many “toilets” as “urinals”, build all with floor-to-ceiling privacy and sanitary/incontinence product disposals, a facility policy of frequent cleanings and restockings, and about twice as many “family/wheelchair/wide berth toilet rooms” as in current restroom architectures.

The above solution may work in admission-limited areas, but pose other obstacles to implementation in truly public areas, such as public parks and public transportation hubs. As those of you who frequent these facilities are well aware, there is a sizeable population of unhoused people who use public restrooms – and particularly the larger stalls – as temporary housing, and use the sinks for personal cleaning, thereby restricting access to the general commuting or leisure-taking public. Changing current stall structure (one foot – 30 cm – of open space at the bottom, tops no higher than six feet (1.9 m), and wall/door space gaps of about 1/2 inch on either side) will make it harder to monitor this use, possibly further inconveniencing those who need these spaces for… relieving themselves. Other than providing the unhoused better access to temporary housing and usable sanitary facilities (perhaps including showers and dressing areas in public toilet areas?), I have no suggestions that might ameliorate this issue.

Finally, a bit of a “Sadie Hawkins” moment. Back in the 1990s and early 2000s, when IT was much more of a male-oriented field, women – for once – had the better deal. At seminar breaks, we’d have no more than two or three people waiting for the (usually luxurious) hotel or conference-center rest rooms (many built in times where a separate anteroom was legally required, for women to sit and refresh their makeup), while two dozen or more men stood in line to use their gendered facility.

With gender fluidity, an aging nation, and an increase in accessibility requirements, shouldn’t gendered, non-accessible public toilets be a thing of the past?