An Option Two for Number Two

Living in the United States during the COVID-19 pandemic, during times so unprecedented that I now attend church services via Facebook live stream, I found myself asking God this past Easter to save my butt—literally.

Because for the first time in my life, I've come face-to-face with a genuine fear for toilet paper insecurity.

But I don't live in a war-torn country in the Middle East, where water or food shortage can run rampant. I live in a country where people are fortunate enough to panic-buy the shelves empty from the largest supermarkets in the world. So, in a sense, I'm grateful that toilet paper, of all things, is a bigger concern for my family than water and food are. But it raises an interesting question—are countries in the Middle East toilet paper insecure, too? Well, strangely enough, they aren't.

Majority-Muslim countries in the Middle East don't have toilet-paper crises like most Western countries do. Take Iran, for example—the Islamic republic has become one of the hardest-hit coronavirus epicenters of the world, with over 75,000 confirmed cases and a death toll topping nearly 5,000. In spite of this, a 39-year-old citizen in Tehran recently told TRT World that Iranians have looked at the world's toilet paper crisis with a raised eyebrow—panic-buying is nonexistent, "with people shopping just like any other time." The United States, whose supermarkets have long been the largest and most prolific in the world, has been brought to its knees by the coronavirus. Why has Iran, whose economy is so exhausted from American economic sanctions that even fresh produce is a rare find on grocery shelves, remained immune from the toilet paper shortage?

Iran's immunity doesn't come from their economic vitality—it lies in their culture. Toilet paper was invented in New York in 1857—by the 1970s, it had grown ubiquitous in the United States, and Americans couldn't live without it. But to other countries, especially those in the Middle East, toilet paper was still just that—a foreign invention, one that most didn't adopt. Indeed, to this day, most living in the Middle East don't use toilet paper at all. They depend on water to clean up after a trip to the toilet—whether it be with a shatafa, which is essentially a mini shower head that attaches to a toilet, or a simple basin.

The same goes for countless other countries around the globe. Italy, for example, never got around to adopting toilet paper as Americans had, so when the coronavirus laid waste to the country with over 160,000 cases and 21,000 deaths (and counting), unlike the United States, toilet paper wasn't panic-bought off the shelves. They, alongside countries like Japan, South Korea, Australia, and many more, rely on their own version of the shatafa: the bidet.

But for most Americans, the bidet is an alien concept. TUSHY, one of the few companies in the United States that sells bidets, asks them: “If a bird pooped on you, do you wipe it?” That question, plastered on their website's homepage, is promptly followed by an equally simple answer: "No, you wash it off." TUSHY sells all kinds of bathroom accessories, ranging from towels to toilet stools—but most notably, they sell bidets, a small water spigot that attaches to a toilet under its rim. The device washes your rear with water, removing the need for toilet paper altogether. It's proven to provide a far more effective cleanse than toilet paper (a wash versus a mere wipe), and it's also incredibly more comfortable to use. By nature, they render toilet paper abrasion nonexistent, and it's not hard to imagine how a gentle stream of warm water can be easier on your anus than the scrape of a tissue. And in response to the toilet paper crisis, more and more Americans have begun discovering the luxury that bidets have to offer—companies like TUSHY have seen their bidet sales spike, running 10 times ahead of projections. In addition, online searches for "bidet" reached an all-time high.

But it’s for better reason than most realize. Not only do bidets remove the need for toilet paper and provide a more comfortable and effective cleanse, but they're vastly more environmentally friendly. Each year, the United States needs to cut down about 15 million trees to support the total annual consumption of 36.5 billion rolls of toilet paper. On top of that, it takes 473.6 billion gallons of water, 253,000 tons of chlorine, and 17.3 terawatts of electricity to manufacture the annual supply. The chlorine severely pollutes local water sources, and each year, in order to cut costs, toilet paper companies recycle less and less, meaning more and more trees are cut down. As it stands, the toilet paper industry is one of the most lucrative and environmentally damaging industries. But bidets offer a graceful alternative—not only do they prevent widespread deforestation and massive chemical pollution, but on a day-to-day basis, they also save water. To satisfy the 57 toilet paper sheets-per-capita consumption for the average American, the manufacturing process requires nearly four gallons of water. On the other hand, the bidet only requires an eighth of a gallon.

And during a time when hygiene and health prudence are more critical than ever, the bidet delivers. Because they provide a more effective cleanse, health experts have found that they reduce the risk of infections like urinary tract infections. In addition, because they can alleviate anal resting pressure, bidets have also been found to provide symptomatic relief to patients with conditions like hemorrhoids.

But despite the benefits, for some reason, the United States has yet to catch on the bidet wave. It's not a new invention—the bidet originated in France around 1600 as a simple washing basin beside the toilet, and a multitude of variations and advancements have been made since. In Japan, more than half of all households have bidets, which often come decked out with other features, like hot air for drying that follows the water and even toilet-seat warmers. These high-tech bidets are also popular in South Korea—having visited the country and tried one out for myself, I can personally affirm that bidets are as comfortable and effective as they're made out to be (they're so accurate that it's scary—seriously, how does the water never miss?). In spite of these advancements, American consumers have yet to find the bidet palatable. Some theories explaining the absence of bidets in the United States speculate that when American soldiers stationed in Europe were exposed to them in World War II, bidets were associated with sex work. Even before then, douching was seen as a pregnancy preventative measure, so Americans associated bidet basins with birth control, perpetuating the taboo.

Whatever the reason for it may be, the stigma around bidets is outdated and unfounded. In light of a crisis where toilet paper is a scarcity, in a country where corporate environmental negligence threatens the planet as we know it, and in homes across the globe where hard-working people have yet to be given the treatment they deserve—bidets await your call.