Here's a thought experiment: imagine you're downtown, you've had your morning coffee, and nature calls. Now what? If you're lucky, you might find a café willing to let you use their restroom. If you're not, you're wandering blocks looking increasingly desperate while your bladder stages a protest.

This awkward dance happens millions of times daily in cities worldwide. And while we've figured out how to build skyscrapers and underground transit systems, we somehow can't crack the code on giving people a dignified place to pee. It's not just inconvenient—it's a public health issue, a dignity issue, and frankly, a design failure hiding in plain sight.

The bathroom gap hits some people much harder than others. For homeless individuals, the lack of public restrooms isn't just uncomfortable—it's dehumanizing. When you have no private space and public restrooms don't exist, basic human functions become impossible to perform with any dignity. This creates a vicious cycle where people are criminalized for having nowhere to go.

Elderly people often plan their entire days around bathroom access. They memorize which stores have restrooms, which coffee shops are friendly, which routes have accessible facilities. Many simply avoid going out altogether. Parents with young children face similar calculations—toddler bladders wait for no one, and changing a diaper on a park bench isn't anyone's idea of a good time.

Then there's everyone else: tourists, delivery workers, people with medical conditions like Crohn's disease or diabetes, pregnant women, or just regular humans who drank too much water. Cities basically assume everyone has a home nearby, a car to drive somewhere, or money to become a paying customer. That assumption leaves a lot of people literally stranded.

Takeaway

Public infrastructure reveals who a city considers worthy of basic dignity. When restrooms disappear, we're not just removing convenience—we're telling certain people they don't belong in public space.

Portland, Oregon got tired of the usual excuses—too expensive, attracts crime, impossible to maintain—and designed something different. The Portland Loo is a stainless steel standalone restroom that looks like an industrial sculpture. It has angled louvers at the top and bottom that let security personnel see feet and heads without compromising privacy. It's graffiti-resistant, pressure-washable, and deliberately spartan.

The design solves problems other public restrooms can't. The open sightlines discourage illegal activity. The durable materials survive vandalism. The simple fixtures require minimal maintenance. Cities from Boston to London have now purchased versions. It's not fancy, but it works—which turns out to be the most revolutionary feature of all.

Other cities have tried different approaches. Tokyo's transparent public toilets—which turn opaque when locked—transform into glowing art installations at night. Amsterdam's pop-up urinals rise from the ground during weekend nights when bar crowds surge. San Francisco has experimented with self-cleaning units that automatically sanitize after each use. The solutions exist; what's often missing is the will to implement them.

Takeaway

Good design solves problems that politics and budgets claim are unsolvable. The Portland Loo proves that with clever engineering, public restrooms can be safe, maintainable, and dignified all at once.

Germany has a clever program called "Nette Toilette" (Nice Toilet) that pays businesses to open their restrooms to the public. Participating cafés and shops display a sticker in their window, and the city compensates them for extra cleaning and supplies. Suddenly, the city has hundreds of restrooms without building anything new.

This partnership model works because it aligns incentives. Businesses get money and foot traffic—people who come in to use the bathroom often buy something. Cities get distributed bathroom coverage without construction costs or maintenance headaches. The public gets clean, well-maintained facilities in safe environments. Everyone wins, which is surprisingly rare in urban policy.

American cities are slowly catching on. New York's LOOK NYC program encourages businesses to open their doors. Seattle has experimented with similar partnerships. The challenge is scale—getting enough businesses on board to actually solve the problem. But these programs suggest a future where "public" infrastructure doesn't have to mean "government-owned" infrastructure.

Takeaway

Sometimes the best public infrastructure already exists—it's just privately owned. Creative partnerships can transform scattered private resources into effective public systems without building anything new.

The bathroom crisis isn't really about toilets—it's about what kind of public realm we want to create. Cities that invest in basic amenities are saying that everyone deserves to exist in public space with dignity, whether they're spending money or not.

The solutions aren't mysterious or impossibly expensive. They require political will, thoughtful design, and the willingness to talk about something we'd rather ignore. Your city probably needs better public bathrooms. Maybe it's time to start asking why it doesn't have them.