McGill Tribune

Some of humanity’s greatest achievements are rules that have been written-down. Whether on papyrus or webpages, we document how we think things should be run, then we run them accordingly. For predictability and fairness, the Do’s and Dont’s are visibly laid out for all to see. We mobilize around them, argue about them, and sometimes kill over them. But ultimately, we write them down—for the most part. Some rules are just too malleable and complex to define, like how a conversation starts, flows, and ends. Others are simply so well ingrained that writing them down would be redundant, like urinal etiquette.

Anybody who has spent time in a men’s room will know what I mean. The unwritten statutes at work around the urinal area are not to be tampered with, or discussed; they simply are. Like the rights to liberty and life in a constitution, these are laws we use to explain and direct other laws, not to be tweaked themselves.

Take, for instance, the Middle Urinal Act. Years ago, some idiot was humming along, and decided the average amount of urinals to be found in medium-sized men’s washrooms should be three.  He failed to understand the effect of this arbitrary decision. Seeing as the urinal rules are not spoken about, the collective men’s-washroom-using consciousness had to strive for decades to mutually agree on what has become the Middle Urinal Act, which states: should you come upon three urinals, the two outside ones being in use, never (ever!) use the middle one. It’s untactful, and simply gets into the aura of another man’s peeing space. It’s just not cool.

Sometimes it gets even trickier. One of the Middle Urinal Act’s most adhered-to bylaws deals with the conundrum of arriving at three empty urinals. The rule still stands: do not use the centre urinal. The consequences could be catastrophic. Someone might show up with dire need, and be forced to stand right next to you. This means exposing him to the Can’t-Get-It-Started complex, or—and this is much, much worse—it means you have to contemplate switching urinals mid-action. And once you’ve committed this despicable act, you might as well be banned from Urinaldom altogether.  

There is one more rule that deserves mentioning; the Don’t Speak Decree (the No Sharing a Urinal Regulation goes without saying). The very last thing you want to do while using a urinal is chitchat. It always seems forced and—if you’re correctly following the Middle Urinal Act—you have to yell across another urinal. Again, not cool. It has been agreed upon to stare straight forward, do the deed, and proceed to the hand washing section. There you can exchange pleasantries to your heart’s content.

Inside and outside the men’s restroom, unwritten rules abound. Some are silly, but some aren’t. Being aware of them, their history, and why we follow them is perhaps one of the most perceptive things we do in day-to-day life. Changing them is often an important duty, but leaving them exactly as they are is also necessary. Believe me, the very last thing you want to do is delegitimize things like the Middle Urinal Act. Urinal users the world over will see this as tantamount to anarchy. Thank God the two-urinals-only washrooms are less widespread than their three-urinal counterparts.