The Throne of Technology

From transparent glass walls to heated seats and pre-spray technology, how Japanese toilets spoiled me for bathrooms everywhere else

Vending machines that sell hot ramen. Train stations that run to the second. Convenience stores that feel like lifestyle laboratories. Japan has a habit of overengineering the mundane. But nothing quite prepares you for the toilets. Why do they care so much about bathroom technology?

The Convenience Factor

Finding a toilet in Japan is never the problem. Train stations have them. Convenience stores - over 55,000 nationwide^[1] - let anyone walk in and use theirs. Department stores have entire floors dedicated to restrooms that put hotel lobbies to shame.

And they're not just available - they're strangely well-appointed:

• Sinks inside individual stalls
• Hooks and shelves for your bag
• Baby changing stations
• Makeup areas with proper lighting
• Background music or "privacy sounds" to mask noise

The Glass Bathroom Experiment

In recent years, Tokyo installed a series of public toilets with transparent glass walls. Before you recoil: the glass uses smart technology that turns opaque when locked.

The concept, designed by architect Shigeru Ban^[2], solves a common problem - you can see inside before entering to confirm it's clean and unoccupied. Lock the door and the glass frosts over completely.

These transparent toilets have appeared in parks across Shibuya, each designed by different architects^[3]. What could have been utilitarian structures became public art installations that people actually photograph.

The Washlet Revolution

The electronic toilet - or washlet - is where Japan's bathroom obsession reaches its peak. High-end models can cost thousands of dollars and feature control panels that rival airplane cockpits in complexity.

Standard features on most models:

• Heated seats with adjustable temperature settings
• Bidet and front-wash functions with adjustable water pressure and position
• Air dryers to eliminate the need for toilet paper
• Deodorizers that activate automatically
• Auto-open/close lids that sense your approach
• Pre-spray function that mists the bowl before use, preventing waste from sticking

The pre-spray is the clever one. A thin layer of water on the porcelain before you sit means nothing sticks. Simple idea.

Someone had to think of it first.

Some high-end models even include:

• UV sanitization between uses
• Nightlights for 2am bathroom trips
• Bluetooth speakers (because apparently some people need music everywhere)
• Health monitoring that analyses waste for health metrics

How They Became Normal

The washlet wasn't always everywhere. TOTO introduced the first model in 1980, and it took years to catch on. Now over 80% of Japanese households have one^[4]. TOTO alone has sold 50 million units worldwide^[4].

Japan's aging population helped. Washlets offer independence for elderly users who might struggle with traditional bathroom routines. A luxury item became a practical necessity.

They're also surprisingly green. While manufacturing these things takes resources, they cut toilet paper usage by up to 75%^[5]. That adds up.

The Tourist Experience

Your first washlet encounter will probably involve pressing the wrong button. The control panels are labelled in Japanese, and trial-and-error leads to surprises. Here's what you're looking at:

Hotels catering to international visitors usually include English labels or pictograms. But figuring it out yourself is part of the experience - best approached with a sense of humour.

A Reflection on Living Here

After years in Japan, you stop noticing the toilets. They fade into the background of daily life, like punctual trains or ubiquitous vending machines. Then you travel abroad.

Suddenly you're in a foreign bathroom, reaching for controls that don't exist. The seat is cold. There's no bidet function. You've been spoiled, irreversibly.

That's the thing about living in Japan - it's not the temples or cherry blossoms that mark you. It's the small, everyday conveniences that become invisible until they're gone. The toilets are just the most literal example.