analysis of bathroom use as metric of social trust, courtesy Gillian Tett, Financial Times U.S. editor

Earning the key to the T-suite

By Gillian Tett

Published: November 5 2010 19:54 | Last updated: November 5 2010 19:54

A few weeks ago I was visiting an office in central New York, when I asked to use the “rest room” (aka toilet).

A receptionist handed me a vast key on a wooden board that might have been a prop from a prison drama. Then she sternly warned me to check that the rest room door was “properly locked” after use.

“Why?” I asked.

She glared at me, as if I was a simpleton.

“They are private.”

“But why?” I queried again … but received no response. No surprise, perhaps. Ever since I first lived in America a decade ago, I have been struck by the diligence with which many offices and institutions lock their toilets, particularly in cities such as New York. Americans rarely discuss this topic; after all, rest room habits seem a tad puerile. But precisely because this issue is so rarely discussed, it is rather fascinating from an anthropological view – not least because it speaks volumes about the degree of trust (or mistrust) in parts of American life.

If you walk into an office in central Tokyo you will be able to wander freely into the toilet (or toire), which is usually a delightful place, with warmed toilet seats, bountiful tissue, sparkling floors and background music (to disguise any rude sounds). If you need the “loo” in a London office, you will almost always get open access too, albeit to something rather less elegant and likely lacking loo paper. Locking up the convenience is not considered normal in Europe or Japan; or in central London.

But keys and combination codes are found in many New York offices, as well as many restaurants and gas stations. Indeed, the practice is so endemic that websites welcoming new immigrants to America include a specific paragraph explaining how to ask for the rest room key. Why?

The “official” explanation – or that proffered by those key-wielding receptionists whenever I ask – is “security”. Keeping the door locked ensures that the rest room stays “clean” and “safe”; if the door was not locked with a monster key, the implication goes, then the facilities might become soiled. Tramps could sleep there. Heavens, somebody might even nick the toilet rolls. Indeed, this reflex is so ingrained that the website of the US State Department explicitly tells American companies that “restrooms should be kept locked in high-threat environments”, with “access controlled by the receptionist”.

Perhaps that is a reasonable point to make in places such as Kabul, where there are bigger threats at stake than somebody stealing the mouthwash. But in Manhattan, the argument seems odd. After all, security in most office blocks these days is already so tight that anybody going anywhere near a locked rest room would have already been screened. Or as a lobby group with the wonderful name of the “American Restroom Association” observes: “Typically, buildings in areas where there could be a problem with misuse [of rest rooms] already have access control procedures such as a guard.”

I n my mind, the real issue at stake is social trust and cohesion. A country such as Japan has a high level of cultural homogeneity, conformity and cohesion; everybody presumes that everyone else knows how to behave “correctly”, and there are powerful unspoken social norms to enforce that. At times, this can feel oppressive; but it also creates a climate of trust. Thus, loo doors remain unlocked – and public, or semi-public, infrastructure usually stays in a sparkling state. There is toilet trust.

Places such as New York, however, have far lower levels of cohesion, informal control or mutual trust. That creates a feeling of freedom; but it also means that there is less respect towards public, common infrastructure, compared with private property. Hence the fact that the elites who work in offices feel too nervous to let strangers randomly appear in their rest rooms; keys are needed to impose control.

This makes life darn uncomfortable for anyone with a weak bladder. So much so, that the ARA (mission statement: to be an “advocate for the availability of clean, safe, well-designed public restrooms”) is now lobbying companies and institutions to start providing unlocked rest rooms. “To assure building restrooms are used only by tenants and their guests, many Companies have keyed bathroom entry, [but] unfortunately, this hindered access can be a problem for the restroom challenged,” its website earnestly declares. “After a long trip, for example, a person may desperately need to use the rest room as soon as they enter the building. If they can’t quickly find the organization they are visiting their health is compromised.”

And to further this cause, the ARA website is gathering donations (all major credit cards accepted). But while I wish it well, I doubt its chances of success. After all, current fiscal and economic pressures look set to create considerably more, not less, social friction in the coming years. Just look at the political vitriol swirling around Obama for a sign of that. Those keys, in other words, look set to stay in use, if not proliferate; low-status “outsiders” with a weak bladder had better cross their legs.