The Great Toilet Seat Debate, Solved
In a previous post, I said that my dream condo would have a Big John toilet, and not because I have the physique of a sumo wrestler. The reason is height. In my current place, I'm forever bending down to the floor to lift and lower a dainty toilet seat.
The only possible reason for this is that, when all toilets moved to the 1.6 gallon-per-flush standard, the designers decided to scale the whole thing down, instead of just making the tank smaller. Or else they hate all men over 6 feet. That's why I want a Big John.
But all the time I spend bending and lifting and lowering has given me exceptional clarity on the time-honored toilet seat debate. Should the men put the seat back down?
Let me digress a moment and say that I have no illusions that men are superior to women in any way. At my tiny high school, I had no way of cracking the top 10 in class rank, even in spite of my incredible sense of self-worth. The reason is that 10 exceptional young women had a lock on it since the middle of 9th grade. They were smarter and worked harder. I could neither beat them, nor date them. (I did, however, ultimately get the last laugh: I married a valedictorian.)
Now that I've established my respect for women, let me address the first argument: equality of the sexes. Let's say, after every use, the man and woman both leave the toilet as they have used it. The woman leaves it down, the man leaves it up. If everybody urinates the same number of times, then everyone does the same amount of lifting or lowering. When the man has to take a crap, he leaves it down -- bonus for the woman. There's the equality argument, and it holds up pretty well.
But wait! Then the woman counters with, "I might accidentally sit in the water." A compelling argument. No one wants to sit in the water, especially not the Porterman. There are two responses: in an all-male household, does a man sometimes accidentally sit in water during an emergency 2am crap? I've never heard of it. Second, the more time the man and woman spend in an environment of equality, as explained above, the more she will be used to putting the seat down. It's only in the toilet-seat-down-99%-of-the-time world that such risks exist. Thus, I don't think the argument holds up against the equality scenario.
"But it just looks better to have the seat down." Ah, an aesthetic debate! I myself think a bowl looks more interesting than a covered lid, from a modern art standpoint. Very 20th century. You, however, might think a the stair-step form is more appealing. Probably a 50/50 split, nationwide. But if it's a messy toilet seat you find objectionable, then yes, your argument has been made. The men should clean up after themselves, or else install a toilet that isn't so damn short and splatter-prone.
Those are the three prevailing arguments, and, as you can see, I don't think any of them argue for more than strict equality. Why, then, do I always put the toilet seat back down? Rather ponderous, isn't it?
The answer is, because it's an easy way to make my wife happy. There are so many other complicated procedures and rituals that I'm supposed to remember but fail at. Here's one that's simple. I can't water the plants correctly; I can't remember which utensil turns brown in the dishwasher. But this -- this! -- I can remember. It's a meaningful gesture, and takes little thought if incorporated into your daily routine.
I just wish I had a Big John so I could shave off six inches x 2000 lifts a year.
The only possible reason for this is that, when all toilets moved to the 1.6 gallon-per-flush standard, the designers decided to scale the whole thing down, instead of just making the tank smaller. Or else they hate all men over 6 feet. That's why I want a Big John.
But all the time I spend bending and lifting and lowering has given me exceptional clarity on the time-honored toilet seat debate. Should the men put the seat back down?
Let me digress a moment and say that I have no illusions that men are superior to women in any way. At my tiny high school, I had no way of cracking the top 10 in class rank, even in spite of my incredible sense of self-worth. The reason is that 10 exceptional young women had a lock on it since the middle of 9th grade. They were smarter and worked harder. I could neither beat them, nor date them. (I did, however, ultimately get the last laugh: I married a valedictorian.)
Now that I've established my respect for women, let me address the first argument: equality of the sexes. Let's say, after every use, the man and woman both leave the toilet as they have used it. The woman leaves it down, the man leaves it up. If everybody urinates the same number of times, then everyone does the same amount of lifting or lowering. When the man has to take a crap, he leaves it down -- bonus for the woman. There's the equality argument, and it holds up pretty well.
But wait! Then the woman counters with, "I might accidentally sit in the water." A compelling argument. No one wants to sit in the water, especially not the Porterman. There are two responses: in an all-male household, does a man sometimes accidentally sit in water during an emergency 2am crap? I've never heard of it. Second, the more time the man and woman spend in an environment of equality, as explained above, the more she will be used to putting the seat down. It's only in the toilet-seat-down-99%-of-the-time world that such risks exist. Thus, I don't think the argument holds up against the equality scenario.
"But it just looks better to have the seat down." Ah, an aesthetic debate! I myself think a bowl looks more interesting than a covered lid, from a modern art standpoint. Very 20th century. You, however, might think a the stair-step form is more appealing. Probably a 50/50 split, nationwide. But if it's a messy toilet seat you find objectionable, then yes, your argument has been made. The men should clean up after themselves, or else install a toilet that isn't so damn short and splatter-prone.
Those are the three prevailing arguments, and, as you can see, I don't think any of them argue for more than strict equality. Why, then, do I always put the toilet seat back down? Rather ponderous, isn't it?
The answer is, because it's an easy way to make my wife happy. There are so many other complicated procedures and rituals that I'm supposed to remember but fail at. Here's one that's simple. I can't water the plants correctly; I can't remember which utensil turns brown in the dishwasher. But this -- this! -- I can remember. It's a meaningful gesture, and takes little thought if incorporated into your daily routine.
I just wish I had a Big John so I could shave off six inches x 2000 lifts a year.
posted by Porterman at 8:22 AM
2 Comments:
I'm going to preface this post by saying that I agree with your conclusion. Despite all the highly logical arguments for leaving the seat up, in the end it just seems like an easy way to satisfy the woman(en) in the household.
That being said, I'd like to point out that one of the problems with leaving the seat down is that it lead to one of the other common toilet problems: the messy lid. Though it may be indeed a simple task, what guy can say that when facing a particularly urgent bladder he hasn't neglected to lift the seat simply to save three seconds? And what guy hasn't, perhaps drunkenly at three am, decided to urinate via "sonar"? Were the seat pre-lifted, these splashing incidents would not be nearly pronounced.
Alas, the reality is that we men, regardless of fairness, will forever need to work on the three basic toilet skills:
a) Lifting
b) Aiming
c) Cleaning
Well put, well put. In the case of having an incredibly stumpy toilet, as I do, I would add:
a) Stooping
b) Lifting
c) Aiming
d) Cleaning
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