Amsterdam just installed the world’s first retractable urinal for women and it is a Very Good Thing

"Or we could just pee in the canal, I guess." Image: Getty.

It’s here. Womankind has waited with baited breath and crossed legs for this joyous day. Now, finally, the world’s first retractable urinal for women has risen.

Retractable urinals for men have long been a feature of most capital cities. Stored underground during the day and rising to pavement level in the evening, they are designed to counteract the traditional night-time narrative of – man goes out, man drinks, the nice toilet at the back of M&S is shut, man floods streets of city with piss.

Now a rumour that women have bladders too has finally reached Amsterdam. The city council has installed a (one! singular! for all the women who go out after hours in one of Europe’s most densely populated capital cities!) night-time urinal for women. It's part of a unit that comes with two standard issue retractable urinals for men; the women's side of the installation includes a lockable door.

The company behind this towering tribute to the female urethra is Urilift. “During the day there are plenty of opportunities to visit a toilet,” director Marco Schimmel told Dutch broadcaster NOS. “[But] at night they are often locked. Men in dire need quickly resort to public urination, but for women it is more difficult. The urinal for women offers a solution”.

Schimmel’s statement was accompanied by a video, demonstrating the corrosive effect of late-night urination on Amsterdam’s old churches, and a booming voice introducing the twin academic disciplines of Indiscriminate Urination and Peak Urination. (The video also showcases all my favourite bike parking spots around Dam Square, so that’s delightful.)

This is the first time that any city, anywhere, in the world, ever, has acknowledged that women going out in the evening might need somewhere permanent to piss. Many councils install portable toilets on Friday and Saturday nights; but their temporary nature implies that women needing to use the toilet late at night is somehow unusual.

A marketing image of the women's urinal. Image: Urilift.

The suggestion that men are more susceptible to Indiscriminate Urination than women can be seen in the ratio of male to female public toilets in the UK today. Victorian health boards believed that men spent more time outside the house than women did (busy fighting wars and denying us the vote); and so, public toilets were distributed accordingly.

Legislation now requires that public toilets allocate an equal amount of space to men and women – but this usually results in long lines for the ladies, while the gents remain tauntingly empty. In 2015 Soraya Chemaly responded to this blatant provocation by tweeting the British Museum about the #everydaysexism of women having to queue for the toilets.

Chemaly was immediately asked why some of the women didn’t use the (empty) men’s toilets, a fun and practical suggestion. But even once we remove the social taboos around such an action, there’s the fear of assault to contend with, and the fact that most public toilets are designed to exclude people who don’t “belong” there.

After her tweet Chemaly pointed out in Time that current legislation ignores the fact that a lot of older public toilets were built for men and have not been adapted to suit women’s needs. Women traditionally sit down to urinate, they wear more restrictive clothing, are often responsible for young children – and, on an ideological level, no woman should have to live out the best years of her life queueing to change a tampon.


The question of how many public toilets for women a city should supply is partly tied up with how a city council chooses to invest its money. If the majority of a city’s public transport network is not wheelchair accessible then that city clearly doesn’t value disabled people. Likewise, if there are limited or inadequate facilities for women, then the women’s ability to access public spaces is not a priority.

But accessibility isn’t the only reason women need more retractable urinals. By providing women who go out after 6pm with somewhere safe, discreet and permanent to urinate, Amsterdam city council  has acknowledged that women’s bladders are not some SS16 fad: they’re here to stay.

In creating a permanent, public, facility for women, city councils endorse women’s right to be out after dark. It’s 2016, and the question of whether women should be going out at night is apparently society’s Stone of Sisyphus.

There are, however, practical things cities can do to keep their female population safe. Start by acknowledging that they exist and that their biological needs are worth consideration.

 
 
 
 

Self-driving cars may be safe – but they could still prevent walkable, liveable communities

A self-driving car, driving itself. Image: Grendelkhan/Flickr/creative commons.

Almost exactly a decade ago, I was cycling in a bike lane when a car hit me from behind. Luckily, I suffered only a couple bruised ribs and some road rash. But ever since, I have felt my pulse rise when I hear a car coming up behind my bike.

As self-driving cars roll out, they’re already being billed as making me – and millions of American cyclists, pedestrians and vehicle passengers – safer.

As a driver and a cyclist, I initially welcomed the idea of self-driving cars that could detect nearby people and be programmed not to hit them, making the streets safer for everyone. Autonomous vehicles also seemed to provide attractive ways to use roads more efficiently and reduce the need for parking in our communities. People are certainly talking about how self-driving cars could help build more sustainable, livable, walkable and bikable communities.

But as an urban planner and transportation scholar who, like most people in my field, has paid close attention to the discussion around driverless cars, I have come to understand that autonomous vehicles will not complement modern urban planning goals of building people-centered communities. In fact, I think they’re mutually exclusive: we can have a world of safe, efficient, driverless cars, or we can have a world where people can walk, bike and take transit in high-quality, human-scaled communities.

Changing humans’ behavior

These days, with human-driven cars all over the place, I choose my riding routes and behavior carefully: I much prefer to ride on low-speed traffic, low-traffic roads, buffered bike lanes or off-street bike paths whenever possible, even if it means going substantially out of my way. That’s because I’m scared of what a human driver – through error, ignorance, inattention or even malice – might do to me on tougher roads.

But in a hypothetical future in which all cars are autonomous, maybe I’ll make different choices? So long as I’m confident self-driving cars will at least try to avoid killing me on my bike, I’ll take the most direct route to my destination, on roads that I consider much too dangerous to ride on today. I won’t need to worry about drivers because the technology will protect me.

Driverless cars will level the playing field: I’ll finally be able to ride where I am comfortable in a lane, rather than in the gutter – and pedal at a comfortable speed for myself rather than racing to keep up with, or get out of the way of, other riders or vehicles. I can even see riding with my kids on roads, instead of driving somewhere safe to ride like a park. (Of course, this is all still assuming driverless cars will eventually figure out how to avoid killing cyclists.)

To bikers and people interested in vibrant communities, this sounds great. I’m sure I won’t be the only cyclist who makes these choices. But that actually becomes a problem.

The tragedy of the commons

In the midsize midwestern college town I call home, estimates suggest about 4,000 people commute by bike. That might not sound like many, but consider the traffic backups that would result if even just a few hundred cyclists went out at rush hour and rode at leisurely speeds on the half-dozen arterial roads in my city.

Technology optimists might suggest that driverless cars will be able to pass cyclists more safely and efficiently. They might also be directed to use other roads that are less clogged, though that carries its own risks.

But what happens if it’s a lovely spring afternoon and all those 4,000 bike commuters are riding, in addition to a few thousand kids and teenagers running, riding or skating down my local roads? Some might even try to disrupt the flow of traffic by walking back and forth in the road or even just standing and texting, confident the cars will not hit them. It’s easy to see how good driverless cars will enable people to enjoy those previously terrifying streets, but it also demonstrates that safety for people and efficiency for cars can’t happen at the same time.


People versus cars

It’s not hard to imagine a situation where driverless cars can’t get anywhere efficiently – except late at night or early in the morning. That’s the sort of problem policy scholars enjoy working on, trying to engineer ways for people and technology to get along better.


One proposed solution would put cars and bicycles on different areas of the streets, or transform certain streets into “autonomous only” thoroughfares. But I question the logic of undertaking massive road-building projects when many cities today struggle to afford basic maintenance of their existing streets.

An alternative could be to simply make new rules governing how people should behave around autonomous vehicles. Similar rules exist already: Bikes aren’t allowed on most freeways, and jaywalking is illegal across most of the U.S.

Regulating people instead of cars would be cheaper than designing and building new streets. It would also help work around some of the technical problems of teaching driverless cars to avoid every possible danger – or even just learning to recognize bicycles in the first place.

However, telling people what they can and can’t do in the streets raises a key problem. In vibrant communities, roads are public property, which everyone can use for transportation, of course – but also for commerce, civil discourse and even civil disobedience. Most of the U.S., however, appears to have implicitly decided that streets are primarily for moving cars quickly from one place to another.

There might be an argument for driverless cars in rural areas, or for intercity travel, but in cities, if driverless cars merely replace human-driven vehicles, then communities won’t change much, or they may become even more car-dependent. If people choose to prioritise road safety over all other factors, that will shift how people use roads, sidewalks and other public ways. But then autonomous vehicles will never be particularly efficient or convenient.

The Conversation

Daniel Piatkowski, Assistant Professor of Community and Regional Planning, University of Nebraska-Lincoln

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.