That reality was underscored as the pandemic dragged on. Infection fears led cities to padlock the few public restrooms that were available. Stories emerged about Amazon<\/a> and Uber<\/a> drivers resorting to peeing in bottles, while unhoused individuals relied\u00a0on adult diapers or five-gallon buckets filled with kitty litter<\/a>. Public urination complaints<\/a> spiked in cities like New York <\/a>and Washington, D.C.<\/a>, especially when crowds flooded the streets in the summer of 2020 to protest the murder of George Floyd.<\/p>\n \u201cThe state of public restrooms in the U.S. is pretty deplorable, with certain exceptions,\u201d says Steven Soifer, president and co-founder of the American Restroom Association<\/a>. \u201cPublic restrooms are a half-assed job. This is a public health concern, especially with Covid. It\u2019s been a mess.\u201d<\/p>\n The lack of public restrooms in the U.S.\u00a0hasn\u2019t gone unnoticed<\/a>. In 2011, a United Nations-appointed special rapporteur<\/a> who was sent to the U.S. to assess the \u201chuman right of clean drinking water and sanitation\u201d was shocked by the lack of public toilets<\/a> in one of the richest economies in the world. A full accounting\u00a0of\u00a0truly public facilities\u00a0is elusive, says Soifer, but government-funded options are exceedingly rare in the U.S., compared to Europe and Asia; privately owned restrooms\u00a0in cafes and fast-food outlets are the most common alternatives. According to a \u201cPublic Toilet Index\u201d released in\u00a0August 2021<\/a>\u00a0by the U.K. bathroom supply company QS Supplies and the online toilet-finding tool\u00a0PeePlace<\/a>, the U.S. has only eight\u00a0toilets per 100,000 people overall \u2014 tied with Botswana. (Iceland leads their ranking, with 56 per 100,000 residents.)<\/p>\n The presence or absence of restrooms in public spaces has long been an indication of a particular group\u2019s place in society, says Laura Nor\u00e9n,<\/a> a postdoctoral associate at New York University and co-editor of Toilet: The Public Restroom and the Politics of Sharing<\/a><\/em>. From women to people of color to those with disabilities, vulnerable communities have struggled to have this most fundamental of needs accommodated. Most recently, transgender individuals have found themselves targeted in bathroom-backlash debates<\/a>.<\/p>\n \u201cIt’s basically the same script that just plays over and over and over again \u2014 and these social tensions often meet in the bathroom,\u201d Nor\u00e9n says. \u201cWho gets access to the bathroom really could be summarized as who should have access to public space and public discourse. Somehow, that crystallizes around the bathroom, because people\u2019s fears are the highest in the bathroom.\u201d<\/p>\n So how did Americans end up with so few places to go? Understanding this requires a look back at the societal and sanitary conditions behind public restrooms in American cities \u2014 and the moral panics that propelled both their creation and downfall.<\/p>\n \u2018Separate spheres\u2019 and shared privies<\/p>\n In the Victorian era, the \u201cseparate spheres\u201d<\/a>\u00a0ideology \u2014 that a woman\u2019s place was in the home, while men had the run of everything else \u2014 dictated life for members of the middle- and upper-classes. This was further reinforced by the fact that women in that demographic had few options for relieving themselves while out in public that provided an acceptable level of privacy and comfort.\u00a0City-dwellers crammed into tenements<\/a>, meanwhile, considered themselves fortunate if they lived in a building with on-site outdoor privies shared with their fellow residents.<\/p>\n That started to change in the second half of the 19th century. City sewer and public water systems brought improvements in sanitation, and the link between human waste and the spread of diseases like cholera and typhoid \u2014 initially thought to be caused by \u201cmiasmas,\u201d or bad smells or vapors \u2014 gained wider acceptance. In 1865, a group of New York City physicians released a report <\/a>on public health and hygiene in the growing metropolis, which included\u00a0recommendations for public urinals that resembled the pissoirs<\/em>\u00a0of Paris<\/a>. The following year, the New York Metropolitan Board of Health began planning what were to be the city\u2019s first two public restrooms, each located in busy theater districts.<\/p>\n Ultimately, only one came to fruition: an above-ground, cast-iron, cupolaed structure at Astor Place and 8th Street that opened in 1869.\u00a0Plans for this prototype public restroom indicated that it housed both a \u201cwomen\u2019s compartment\u201d \u2014 featuring two stalls and a washbasin \u2014 and a \u201cmen\u2019s compartment,\u201d with three urinals, two seats, and no stall doors or privacy.<\/p>\n According to an 1897 report by the Mayor\u2019s Committee of New York City<\/a>, the structure\u00a0drew close to 1,000 men daily, but no more than 25 women. In addition to not yet being accustomed to the idea of relieving themselves in public (at the center of a busy intersection, no less), the restroom posed other challenges for women, including the lack of space upper-crust ladies required to maneuver their voluminous skirts.\u00a0Peter Baldwin<\/a>,\u00a0a professor of history at the University of Connecticut who has studied the emergence of public restrooms in the U.S.<\/a>, speculates that inhospitable temperatures may have also been a factor.<\/p>\n \u201cIt must have been horribly hot in summer, and I imagine the freezing cold cast-iron facilities might not have been appealing to women in winter,\u201d he says.<\/p>\n This pioneering public restroom also didn\u2019t last very long: After deeming its location \u201cin too public a place,\u201d the Department of Public Works tore it down in 1872.<\/p>\n Around the same time, cities like Boston, Providence, and Cincinnati also installed small public urinals for men. But the units could be a tough sell, as nearby businesses resisted.\u00a0Not only were these public urinals foul-smelling and unsightly, but they still left half the population with nowhere to go.<\/p>\n It would take the coming of the Progressive Era to bring a major emphasis on hygiene and cleanliness: As housing reformers pushed for improved living conditions in tenement areas, restrooms and bathing facilities began to appear in earnest in U.S. cities.<\/p>\n These were public health measures, rooted in the idea that people of the lower classes \u2014 immigrants in particular<\/a> \u2014 were prone to spreading infectious disease<\/a> that could reach those of higher status. It was also a moral crusade: Many reformers insisted that public amenities helped members of the lower classes avoid drunkenness, violence and promiscuity.\u00a0In the American Journal of Sociology<\/em> in 1901<\/a>, reformer Francis R. Cope, Jr. of Harvard University called tenements \u201cdeath-breeding, crime-breeding hovels\u201d\u00a0and made the case that wealthy city residents had a responsibility to address the \u201ctenement-house-reform problem\u201d for the greater good of society.<\/p>\n Progressives found their cause overlapping with the anti-alcohol temperance movement that had emerged earlier in the 19th century<\/a>.\u00a0Starting in the mid-1870s<\/a>, public health and temperance reformers pushed to install water fountains<\/a> in crowded parts of cities, so that men could quench their thirst without visiting a nearby tavern. (For now, we\u2019ll overlook the public health failure that was the common cup.<\/a>) A similar campaign for public restrooms soon followed. Strategically positioned toilets meant that men would no longer have to rely on bathrooms in bars \u2014 and in turn, wouldn\u2019t be obligated or tempted to grab a shot or beer.<\/p>\n Thanks to a combination of the impact of public health and social reform campaigns and improvements in urban infrastructure, the first years of the 20th century saw a proliferation of public toilets. \u201cThere was a big surge of construction [of public restrooms] in the 1900s and 1910s, because there was concern that when Prohibition came in, it was going to close down the go-to public restrooms,\u201d says U Conn\u2019s Baldwin.<\/p>\n The more elaborate examples of these \u201ccomfort stations<\/a>\u201d were sited underground. Following London\u2019s lead, New York City opened its first subterranean restroom in 1897, and Boston\u2019s debuted a year later.<\/a> Other larger cities \u2014 like Cincinnati, Cleveland, Denver, Detroit, Philadelphia, Pittsburgh, Seattle and Washington, D.C. \u2014 followed suit, building their own underground comfort stations in the 1900s and 1910s<\/a>. Most were designed with high ceilings and covered with gleaming white tile, to instill confidence in their sanitation standards (and counterbalance the discomfort that might arise from descending below street-level for the purpose of relieving yourself).<\/p>\n A\u00a0final boom in public bathroom construction lasted from roughly 1918 to 1921, a period that coincided with the Great Influenza\u00a0pandemic and the end of World War I. But then the push for public toilets stalled out.<\/p>\n After the 18th Amendment<\/a> took effect in January 1920, those who campaigned for public restrooms as a way to keep people out of bars had achieved their goal. And they weren\u2019t the only ones to run out of steam. \u201cThe 1910s were still part of the Progressive Era, and there was high prestige for what the government could do,\u201d Baldwin says. \u201cBut by the 1920s, there was a sense of exhaustion.\u201d<\/p>\n The often-ornate architectural features of public comfort stations made these facilities costly to build and maintain. Plus, the\u00a0women who originally campaigned for these spaces had since moved on to a different type of public restroom. Upper- and middle-class white women gradually gained access to hotels, theaters, train stations, and, most notably, department stores. These privately owned establishments offered a far more enticing option \u2014 \u201cpublic\u201d restrooms designed to mimic the design and comforts of home<\/a>, with lounges full of sofas and vanities for freshening up.<\/p>\n But out of all the amenities this new class of restrooms provided, few had the appeal of their exclusivity. These weren\u2019t pay toilets, per se, but the expectation was that the people using them had purchased tickets to a play or a railway journey, or beverages while socializing in a hotel, or spent the afternoon shopping in a department store. The latter, Baldwin says, were the most accessible to customers of varying classes. So, in an effort to keep well-heeled patrons of high-end retail establishments content, \u201cbargain basements\u201d opened on lower levels \u2014 giving less-affluent women a place both to shop and use the facilities without mingling with wealthier clientele.<\/p>\n This line of thinking \u2014 a contributing factor to the decline of public restrooms \u2014 involved a shift from believing that the government should be responsible for providing bodily privacy, toward what Baldwin calls a consumer model of privacy. \u201cIf the individual wants to purchase privacy, you go right ahead,\u201d he says. \u201cYou go to that restaurant, and you buy your coffee so you can use the bathroom. But [providing bodily privacy] is not the responsibility of the taxpayers. And that seemed to be America\u2019s choice.\u201d<\/p>\n Access to bathrooms is also entangled in deeper inequities. Towns and cities in the Jim Crow-era South boasted fewer public restrooms in general,\u00a0compared to the Northeast or Midwest, because of the extra costs associated with the\u00a0\u201cseparate but equal\u201d mandate used to legally enforce racial segregation<\/a>. \u201cIn these areas where you had Jim Crow, if you were to build public restrooms, you can\u2019t just have two \u2014 you\u2019ve got to have four,\u201d Baldwin\u00a0says. \u201cIf you were going to install public restrooms at all, it was going to cost you twice as much as it would in the North.\u201d<\/p>\n That same reluctance to accommodate all members of the public heralded an era of bathroom neglect.<\/p>\n In the 1930s, New Deal programs like the Works Progress Administration were part of the country\u2019s final effort to increase access to public toilets. But the WPA focused primarily on building utilitarian comfort stations<\/a> in city, state\u00a0and national parks instead of urban areas. The WPA also worked alongside the Civil Works Administration to construct a total of 2,911,323<\/a> outhouses officially known as \u201csanitary privies\u201d (unofficially known as \u201cRoosevelt rooms\u201d) on both public and private land <\/a>in rural areas across 38 states and Puerto Rico between December 1933 and June 1942.<\/p>\n The post-World War II flight to suburbs brought an increased reliance on cars and the the rise of a different kind of public bathroom \u2014\u00a0the highway rest stop. As the federal interstate system took shape, a network of rest areas sprung up along exits to supply motorists with much-needed toilet facilities and snacks. (Today, these\u00a0options are also disappearing<\/a>\u00a0as state highway departments trim their budgets.)\u00a0Meanwhile, inside cities, downtown shopping districts declined, limiting access to the most widely used de facto public restrooms. Throughout the 1950s and \u201960s<\/a>, most of the genuinely public bathrooms in downtown areas were city-operated pay toilets, <\/a>where visitors would pay a nominal fee (often a nickel or dime) for use of the facilities, which would go toward keeping them up and running.<\/p>\n In 1970, there were more than 50,000 coin-operated public restrooms in the U.S, according to Pacific Standard<\/em><\/a>. But, for a variety of reasons \u2014 including lobbying from feminist organizations<\/a> and student activists<\/a>\u00a0who saw this arrangement as unjust \u2014 by 1980, pay toilets in the U.S. were nearly extinct. For the most part, free public restrooms didn\u2019t open up in their place, as the campaigners had hoped.<\/p>\n Fears of crime and\u00a0vandalism in the 1960s and \u201970s sped the mass extinction of many city-run\u00a0facilities, which had acquired an unsavory reputation as sites of drug use<\/a> and sexual encounters.\u00a0By the early 1980s, most of the restrooms located in New York City\u2019s 472 subway stations<\/a> were locked, and have largely remained inaccessible since. A final blow came in the form of the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001<\/a>, prompting\u00a0the closure of public restrooms across the country for security purposes.<\/p>\n Since then, the American city has largely been a no-go zone.<\/p>\n Progressives of an earlier era managed to improve access to public restrooms. What would it take for modern reformers to mount a toilet comeback?<\/p>\n Consider\u00a0New York City\u2019s attempt at installing self-cleaning public pay toilets<\/a> back in 2008. Inspired by the standalone public toilet pods found throughout European cities<\/a> \u2014 though most closely associated with Paris<\/a> \u2014 the New York City version<\/a> cost a quarter per use, permitted patrons to remain inside for a maximum of 15 minutes, and featured 90 seconds of automated cleaning after each visitor. When the first one hit the streets in January 2008, the New York Times<\/em> referred<\/a> to it as \u201ca 25-cent journey to the future.\u201d<\/p>\n But only five of the 20 automatic pay toilets<\/a> New Yorkers were promised ever were installed. (All are still in use<\/a>.) As of August 2018, according to Gothamist<\/em><\/a>, the 15 remaining toilets, which the city had already purchased, remain in\u00a0a Queens warehouse.<\/p>\n Self-cleaning pay toilets<\/a>\u00a0have been slow to catch on,\u00a0says Nor\u00e9n, because\u00a0require a lot of water and the ability to tap into larger water mains.\u00a0They also have a footprint roughly four times larger than their non-self-cleaning Parisian counterparts. \u201cBasically, [Americans] are afraid of strangers,\u201d she says. \u201cIt was considered beyond the pale that you would install a public toilet that didn\u2019t practically burn itself down and rise from the ashes every time someone used it.\u201d<\/p>\n As with so many other aspects of American life, Covid-19\u00a0exposed and exacerbated the American\u00a0bathroom gap: While the affluent purchased\u00a0increasingly ornate<\/a> fixtures\u00a0for their homes, delivery drivers and other essential workers struggled with ever-more-limited options.\u00a0In cities with high rates of homelessness, efforts to install temporary hygiene facilities during lockdowns\u00a0often\u00a0met resistance<\/a>\u00a0from community members and city officials, even as frustrated local businesses locked their restrooms to prevent use from unhoused individuals.<\/p>\n \u201cWe have used that to demonize certain classes of people whenever it\u2019s convenient to do so \u2014 and it\u2019s almost always convenient to do so,\u201d Nor\u00e9n says. \u201cThat\u2019s one of the ways to control who gets to be in public.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIf you don\u2019t have public bathrooms, what you\u2019re saying is, \u2018We do not care about anyone who doesn\u2019t have money.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n Toilet<\/em> co-editor Harvey Molotch,<\/a>\u00a0an emeritus professor of social and cultural analysis and sociology at New York University, also sees the pandemic as an opportunity to reconsider how public restrooms are built \u2014\u00a0particular with regards to airflow. Modern heating and ventilation systems and electric lighting made this\u00a0less of a priority in 20th century public restroom design, which was typically windowless; Molotch hopes to see a reversal of that trend, by adding windows, skylights and other openings.<\/p>\n \u201cVentilation just makes life better,\u201d he says. \u201cThat goes for disease prevention, and of course, the noxious odor. If you increase the ventilation, it ticks off a whole lot of boxes where you have scored an improvement.\u201d<\/p>\n There also needs to be a new approach to restroom\u00a0\u201cchoke points,\u201d Molotch says, especially in\u00a0high-traffic settings like airports and sports arenas. Current entrances and exits are too small,\u00a0by design. \u201cIn order to contain the smells, the noises, and the physical vision of people coming and going \u2014 including maintaining our gender segregation \u2014 the entrances and exits are narrow,\u201d he says. \u201cThat becomes, especially during Covid, a real liability.\u201d<\/p>\n One option is a layout with a clear separation of functions, featuring a bank of toilet stalls opening up to a common space where sinks are located, he says. Ideally, this would also include increased numbers of sinks and toilets, all with the aim of making moving through the restroom easier. \u201cFluidity is the alternative to choke points,\u201d he says.<\/p>\n Most importantly, Nor\u00e9n wants to just see more<\/em> public toilets throughout cities. \u201cWe put fire hydrants all over the place for the very rare, but very important emergency when something might light on fire,\u201d she says. \u201cWhy can\u2019t we couple up with those, and build some basic toileting infrastructure?\u201d<\/p>\n Soifer, of the American Restroom Association, says that some U.S. cities are leading the charge for public restrooms befitting the 21st century. \u201cPortland has been an exemplar in the last decade<\/a>, and taken a lot of initiatives to put in user-friendly public restrooms<\/a> on street corners,\u201d he says.\u00a0The \u201cPortland Loo<\/a>\u201d \u2014\u00a0a\u00a0single-user\u00a0toilet pod with a vandal-proof design<\/a>\u00a0\u2014 was initially designed to meet the needs of their namesake city, but has already been installed in\u00a0more than 20 other locations<\/a> across North America, including Denver, Cincinnati, San Antonio\u00a0and Cambridge, Massachusetts.<\/p>\n Soifer also singles out San Diego<\/a> for adding toilet facilities at the city\u2019s beaches. (Downtown, however, the options are more limited<\/a>.) In 2019, Washington, D.C., took a step in the right direction when its city council enacted the Public Restrooms Act<\/a>, which aims to provide public restrooms<\/a> in underserved parts of the city. So far, two standalone public restrooms are in the works, with others to come<\/a> (eventually).<\/p>\n As public spaces reopen, Soifer has been trying to gauge whether the pandemic guidelines for increased cleanliness and social distancing have triggered any overall improvements in the condition of U.S. public toilets. So far, he\u2019s found that little has changed. \u201cBut at least there\u2019s more talk about it \u2014 acknowledgment that it\u2019s a pretty bad situation in a lot of places.\u201d<\/p>\n As in other chapters of public health history, this\u00a0Covid-inspired rethinking of restroom function and design could inspire\u00a0progress in areas outside of disease prevention. Building more gender-neutral family restrooms, for example, would help make it easier for parents and other caregivers to tend to the needs of their children, regardless of how they identify.<\/p>\n \u201cWe have a choice about restrooms,\u201d Molotch says. \u201cDo we do the extreme of closing them off \u2014\u00a0visually, psychologically, and in discourse \u2014 or do we have them opened? A possibility that could come out of all of this is that there\u2019ll be a higher degree of openness, including non-gender-specific restrooms.\u201d<\/p>\n But in order for this to happen, Molotch says that Americans need to first get through some conversations we\u2019ve been avoiding.<\/p>\n \u201cIt means that we have to acknowledge human waste,\u201d he says. \u201cTalking about public restrooms means that you have to broach a forbidden subject.\u201d<\/p>\n Ultimately, Baldwin views the current dearth of public restrooms as a social justice issue as well as\u00a0an infrastructural priority.<\/p>\n \u201cIf you don\u2019t have public bathrooms, what you\u2019re saying is, \u2018We do not care about anyone who doesn\u2019t have money,\u2019 which I think\u00a0encapsulates where American politics has been going since 1980,\u201d he says. \u201cI hope that there will be a move toward greater acceptance of public spending and government intervention, because that\u2019s what it\u2019s going to take to deal with the problem.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Public Restrooms – Where did all the Public Restrooms go? Surviving a pandemic has a way of forcing people to focus on the basics: health, food, shelter, the need for human connection \u2014 and going to the bathroom. This became evident during the Great Toilet Paper Shortage of 2020, when panic buyers\u00a0emptied store shelves in Read More…<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":14218,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_links_to":"","_links_to_target":""},"categories":[1070,56,1],"tags":[1199],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/test.nahtnow.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14216"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/test.nahtnow.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/test.nahtnow.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/test.nahtnow.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/test.nahtnow.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=14216"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/test.nahtnow.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14216\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":14217,"href":"https:\/\/test.nahtnow.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14216\/revisions\/14217"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/test.nahtnow.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/14218"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/test.nahtnow.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=14216"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/test.nahtnow.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=14216"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/test.nahtnow.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=14216"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}![\"California](\"https:\/\/ci5.googleusercontent.com\/proxy\/a2N9yxCTdq5KMOefcQPhn1Au2CeM2fDQli8eOxnIypcMcotT-WtNFO9BO0shgFf6FyNYJXehmT4FlI7ACRZ3YwdWMcAw8bq12P9rXgy-XA2miSVuGuz2xmPKPfd6GJE=s0-d-e1-ft#https:\/\/assets.bwbx.io\/images\/users\/iqjWHBFdfxIU\/ivQOq2J_nf7Y\/v1\/1400x-1.jpg\")
<\/div>\n<\/div>\n![\"Public](\"https:\/\/ci4.googleusercontent.com\/proxy\/JHjrqBmZsc6Isdt6dIwVKg0sMLbmLgvIxv8mupmeXH9b83EII6j5WOiI2ha7wfy-ILe9zaFebEqkaESvx8XHRkDZEmFsbOyXd6xzwcMilU127hnh9JLSq7ZKztcsMw=s0-d-e1-ft#https:\/\/assets.bwbx.io\/images\/users\/iqjWHBFdfxIU\/iGAPAzQJvgDM\/v1\/600x-1.jpg\")
<\/div>\n<\/div>\nIn the Progressive Era, a\u00a0washroom wave<\/h2>\n
![\"Two](\"https:\/\/ci6.googleusercontent.com\/proxy\/zwAspNREEYxbfY1dWMJ42ZyqgivdJ9s2QD1GzNWSE5ZIjn69zZ6COqwZYKHSzO-KukDSi5Inl1M5IZYZp5Kn2pfFdeX3A4FkCLv977EUJ_8AJI0emqZ-TZvxlCEMLTg=s0-d-e1-ft#https:\/\/assets.bwbx.io\/images\/users\/iqjWHBFdfxIU\/iFzFhJmbe58A\/v1\/1400x-1.jpg\")
<\/div>\n<\/div>\nPrivacy, at a price<\/h2>\n
Nowhere to go<\/h2>\n
![\"Segregated](\"https:\/\/ci3.googleusercontent.com\/proxy\/39laQgrbmzuUDkhpi707rI2_GDl8oa_7os9cjVqeJ0pBwYlDg6rl96YZC3Frwnw7MEqwAndyXWIL_ZwbFoWIFmy4f8wDaCdDbqr_VWb_qcutv1hhiskzqy7kkXDwiko=s0-d-e1-ft#https:\/\/assets.bwbx.io\/images\/users\/iqjWHBFdfxIU\/ipL9O0f8BlAU\/v1\/1400x-1.jpg\")
<\/div>\n<\/div>\n![\"The](\"https:\/\/ci4.googleusercontent.com\/proxy\/9q--89vwg84Lbl-uiB085Y__uCev5o6MnUYmUv46TYocbO7XtvOMiFWbd2rhVkCU8PEOC-gFIyLqEbpd9eGnixkneCSDy2OzZu13rrH-yWnqbH5iRlvdGGhDXGqQaro=s0-d-e1-ft#https:\/\/assets.bwbx.io\/images\/users\/iqjWHBFdfxIU\/iqJ3alh1JtTc\/v1\/1400x-1.jpg\")
<\/div>\n<\/div>\nVisions for the toilets of tomorrow<\/span><\/h2>\n
![\"US-TOILETS-PACKAGE\"](\"https:\/\/ci4.googleusercontent.com\/proxy\/7YwonZ4Go2-httdV-CFPNI0dS_mGrBhSq1hpmQZOQQHitid_qxpJ5iq6Skuvzc_xHIvtnVAqoMrrXjw4g2tpoqA7lInIx6xuOc2kZVuXsMPP2hOmYuW19iFrwMJK6rI=s0-d-e1-ft#https:\/\/assets.bwbx.io\/images\/users\/iqjWHBFdfxIU\/iBYmhYhRTvlg\/v1\/1400x-1.jpg\")
<\/div>\n<\/div>\n![\"Inequality](\"https:\/\/ci3.googleusercontent.com\/proxy\/S3Jzw1G83pFvJIeeUBmZYK37-TlhEPWAEWOE7wGK8fmuVq_FPJQ5z33wUjRTFDL_QcvZxQJRPVpFuYurP_TNw7nMJWcWFF1jYJQhurLKa6lChxLTij-VjXXfAYumvtk=s0-d-e1-ft#https:\/\/assets.bwbx.io\/images\/users\/iqjWHBFdfxIU\/iIki2O0Tb3Dg\/v1\/1400x-1.jpg\")
<\/div>\n<\/div>\nA case for more bathroom talk<\/h2>\n
![\"Public](\"https:\/\/ci5.googleusercontent.com\/proxy\/ZFTzCRZOsOqlSYgLHKLlUWlvb2vijdi6zGUEu7cEQMi2NCLWTpgvRBpCngSb8Jo0glCeOwfK7rLOs7-zpS4qOscp81GQCq0vEU-O6_sGAFKyCdOHeTAtoRMZSiN0QQ4=s0-d-e1-ft#https:\/\/assets.bwbx.io\/images\/users\/iqjWHBFdfxIU\/iJAei1nYfawc\/v1\/1400x-1.jpg\")
<\/div>\n<\/div>\n