One public toilet? Chicago bathroom desert belies windy aspirations to being a world-class city

 

The Dark Horse, Boulder, Colorado, 2025

     It’s best not to comment on specific mistaken remarks made by Mayor Brandon Johnson — the air is already thick with criticism, and once started, where does one stop? But there is one statement he says repeatedly that is almost Rahmesque in its misguided pretension:
     “Chicago is a world-class city.”
     Yes, there is the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, the Art Institute, Margie’s Candies and a few other first-rate institutions that might embolden a person to imagine Chicago is right up there with London and Paris and the other global big boys.
     But the truth remains: Chicago is not a world-class city. It can’t be. We don’t have any public toilets. A survey by Nationwide Waste Service lists 21 cities. Kansas City is first, with 30 public toilets per 100,000 residents, while Chicago is dead last, with less than half, 14 per 100,000.
     And those are not actual public toilets but toilets accessible to the public, theoretically, in libraries and hotels and restaurants that turn a blind eye to those in need. While a few city-run facilities no doubt lurk in remote park district field houses and other public buildings, this woeful sentence was published by the Sun-Times this week:
     “The city’s sole public bathroom appeared near the CTA Blue Line station in the Polish Triangle at Division Street and Ashland and Milwaukee Avenues in West Town.”
     The structure appeared, that is. Not yet open. Almost there. After decades of dithering. Chicago is about to open one sleek self-cleaning public bathroom. In Wicker Park. How many of those are found in Paris? A city of 2 million residents, or three-quarters the population of Chicago?
     Answer: 435
     Any idea how embarrassing this is? How bad for our reputation? Flip open a guide book.
     “Public toilets are non-existent on the streets of Chicago,” a Frommer’s guide chides.
     How long was this humiliation in the making? (pardoning the mild pun; we journalists love punning on this topic; doing so relieves — whoops — reduces our discomfort.)

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