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Title: What Did Ancient Romans Do Without Toilet Paper?
Source:
RealClearScience
URL Source: https://www.realclearscience.com/ar ... thout_toilet_paper_110608.html
Published: Apr 12, 2018
Author: Stephen E. Nash
Post Date: 2018-04-12 01:02:57 by Tooconservative
Keywords: None
Views: 2361
Comments: 15
We’ve all been caught unawares by our digestive tract at one time or another. It happened to the Nash family several months ago. We were nearing the end of an extended road trip, driving down a secondary highway through a sparsely populated area of Colorado at night, when one of my 9-year-old twin sons had to use the bathroom. Despite my pleading, he said he couldn’t make it to the next town. (He had to poop.) So we pulled over and headed for the bushes. After he took care of his business, we realized that we didn’t have toilet paper with us. The whole dramatic episode got me thinking, and for the next couple of hours, I pondered toilet paper and the cultural nature of bathroom routines. (Cut me some slack. It was a long drive.) Toilet paper is now such a routine part of our lives that we rarely give it any thought. That boring reality, however, should make us think—because toilet paper is an artifact, a technology, and is therefore grounded in culture. As we finally re-entered Denver—my wife and kids blissfully asleep—I saw the Colorado state capitol building, beautifully lit on the horizon. I started thinking about the ancient Romans. With tall columns, colonnades, and a high, golden dome, the capitol is nothing if not a Roman temple to civics. Modern American society, and Western societies more generally, tend to look back on ancient Rome as the pinnacle of Western civilization. We emulate their institutions and cultural practices. Why? Are they worth it? When I thought more about their everyday habits, I realized that, despite all of their accomplishments, ancient Romans engaged in some practices that many people today would find thoroughly revolting. Take a minute to consider, for example, what many of those supposedly “civilized” people did when they had to go to the bathroom. When Mt. Vesuvius erupted on August 24 in A.D. 79, Pompeii, Herculaneum, and other Roman settlements were sealed as time capsules. They were first excavated in the 18th century, and since then these sites have given us a wonderful view into ancient Roman society. Many of the bathrooms uncovered at Pompeii and elsewhere were communal. In many cases, they were beautiful, with frescoes on the walls, sculptures in the corners, and rows of holes carved into cold, Italian marble slabs. Roman toilets didn’t flush. Some of them were tied into internal plumbing and sewer systems, which often consisted of just a small stream of water running continuously beneath the toilet seats. In the same way that we use an American-style toilet, a Roman user would sit down, take care of business, and watch number two float blissfully away down the sewer system. But instead of reaching for a roll of toilet paper, an ancient Roman would often grab a tersorium (or, in my technical terms, a “toilet brush for your butt”). A tersorium is an ingenious little device made by attaching a natural sponge (from the Mediterranean Sea, of course) to the end of a stick. Our ancient Roman would simply wipe him- or herself, rinse the tersorium in whatever was available (running water and/or a bucket of vinegar or salt water), and leave it for the next person to use. That’s right, it was a shared butt cleaner. (And of course, there were other means of wiping as well, such as the use of abrasive ceramic discs called pessoi.) OK, so ancient Roman pooping habits seem strange, but what about their customs around pee? As best we can tell from historic and archaeological data, ancient Romans peed in small pots in their homes, offices, and shops. When those small pots became full, they dumped them into large jars out in the street. Just like with your garbage, a crew came by once a week to collect those hefty pots of pee and bring them to the laundromat. Why? Because ancient Romans washed their togas and tunics in pee! Human urine is full of ammonia and other chemicals that are great natural detergents. If you worked in a Roman laundromat, your job was to stomp on clothes all day long—barefoot and ankle deep in colossal vats of human pee. (Frankly, I wonder why we haven’t emulated this aspect of Roman culture in our age of green, eco-friendly, and sustainable businesses. I’m thinking of opening a chain called Urine-Urout All-Natural Laundromat. It’s a sparkling business opportunity!) As peculiar as personal hygiene practices in ancient Rome may seem to us, the historical fact is that many Romans successfully and sustainably used tersoria and washed their clothes in pee for several centuries—far longer than we’ve used toilet paper. Indeed, toilet paper is not a universal technology even today, as any trip to India, rural Ethiopia, or remote areas of China will make abundantly clear. The memorable stop we made for my son in rural Colorado will always remind me of our culture’s widespread dependence on toilet paper. We’ve become so accustomed to the stuff that we are loath to consider widely used alternatives. (Heck, even the elegant bidet gets short shrift in our society.) As an archaeologist, this is surprising to me, especially because toilet paper was formally introduced in this country only in 1857, a comparatively short time ago. At that time, New York entrepreneur Joseph Gayetty first created commercial toilet paper; each individual paper sheet bore his name. He claimed that, in addition to their novel utilitarian function, they were medicinal and prevented hemorrhoids. In 1890, Clarence and E. Irvin Scott developed the first toilet paper on rolls; their brand thrives today. (It happens to be my favorite. Too much information?) Like Gayetty’s sheets, Scott tissue was originally marketed as a medicinal product. In the late 1920s, Hoberg Paper Company marketed Charmin brand toilet paper to women, with an emphasis on softness (thank goodness) and femininity, rather than medicinal properties that didn’t actually work. Today, toilet paper is ubiquitous in Western cultures; it’s a US$9.5 billion-a-year industry in the United States. Americans, in their typical excess, use more than 50 pounds per person per year! About 1.75 tons of raw fiber are required to manufacture each ton of toilet paper. That doesn’t seem sustainable, and frankly, I’m surprised that people haven’t protested more as a result. Given these numbers and the marketing efforts behind them, it’s hard to argue that the use of toilet paper is somehow natural. On the contrary, toilet paper is nothing more than a technology. So the next time you’re enjoying a morning constitutional, think about the fact that defecation and urination are more than biological functions; they are cultural activities that involve artifacts and technologies that change through time. Speaking of which, it’s high time that we consider changing how we clean ourselves after we use the toilet. Tersorium, anyone? Correction: April 6, 2018 An earlier version of this piece used the term “tersoriums” for the plural form of “tersorium.” After scrubbing for more information, we confirmed that “tersoria” is the correct plural form of the term. The text has also been updated to clarify that the butt-brush “cleaning” ritual varied and to note that tersoria were certainly not the only means ancient Romans used to clean themselves after defecation. We don’t mean to be abrasive, but it’s impossible to convey all the minutiae of personal hygiene practiced by the ancient Romans. (And would you really want to know more?) This work first appeared on SAPIENS under a CC BY-ND 4.0 license. Read the original here. Poster Comment: Notice that this article was published under the CC BY-ND 4.0 license. You can copy the article unchanged and post it anywhere as long as you include a link to the Creative Commons licensing terms. Interesting. Anyway, we had several other poop-related threads in the last few days so I thought I'd toss in a TP thread. 
Tersoria, used by ancient Romans to clean themselves after defecating, took the idea of “communal” toilets to a whole new level.
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#1. To: Tooconservative (#0)
Around here they used corn cobs back in the day. The red ones for the first wipe and then the white ones to make sure you did your duty.
My mom told me that the major standby back in the Thirties was last year's Sears & Roebuck catalog. She said the B&W pages went first because the (relatively few) color pages were scratchy. I was willing to take her word for it.
I just use leaves while on a fishing trip.
I’m spoiled, I only use baby wipes when I’m out in the woods hunting. They get buried in the shallow hole I dig, with my pile. I'm the infidel... Allah warned you about. كافر المسلح
We were using S & R catalog pages in the early 60's before gramps got indoor plumbing down on the farm. Never noticed the color pages being any more scratchy than the B & W pages though. Well there always the old option as the parody song would indicate: Stranded, Stranded on the toilet bowl
Isn't that what Muslims do,and the reason why they have strict rules about which hand can be dipped into the communal food pot? In the entire history of the world,the only nations that had to build walls to keep their own citizens from leaving were those with leftist governments.
Baby wipes? Time, 2013: In the blogosphere, the question of whether or not adults should use what are essentially baby wipes in conjunction with toilet paper has grown nearly as contentious as the debate over the “right” way to hang toilet paper. Do we need both products for good hygiene? Or is this just another case of Madison Avenue exploiting our bodily insecurities? Who really cleans up here: wipers, or the companies making the wipes? If you’ve never thought about what you flush beyond one-ply versus two-ply, you might be surprised to find out wet wipes for adults in general and men in particular is a growing category. Market research firm Smithers Apex estimates that the global market for consumer wipes will grow by a little over 5% a year, becoming a $12.6 billion industry by 2017. (This category also includes baby wipes, along with wipes you wouldn’t want to put anywhere near your sensitive parts, like bleach-soaked wipes for disinfecting your countertop.) And Dubin’s “One Wipe Charlies,” which will sell for $4 for a pack of 40, aren’t the only product trying to, uh, crack the market. A product called Dude Wipes, individually-wrapped wet wipes targeted at men, won an innovation award at an industry conference, and gender-neutral products from brands like Cottonelle and Charmin have been on store shelves for some time now. But in the U.S., adults associate wipes with babies and toddlers, says Ian Bell, head of tissue and hygiene research at market research firm Euromonitor. For the Dollar Shave Club guys, that’s the bad news. The good news is that this is a potentially big untapped market, and the giants in the industry are eager to grow it because it doesn’t cannibalize sales of regular TP. “We found that once people started using wipes, they became part of their routine,” Dude Wipes CEO Sean Riley told an industry publication earlier this year. “This product is really creating new customers for wipes.” “We know from our user data that the growth is 100 percent incremental,” a Cottonelle exec told the New York Times last year. “If you used six squares of dry toilet paper before, you’d still use six squares, and one or two flushable wipes.” If nothing else, Dollar Shave Club knows its audience: As the success of Kmart’s “Ship My Pants” ad proves, poop jokes never seem to get old. The roughly two-minute video features Dubin on the toilet, strolling through the woods past a cartoonishly costumed bear (who’s doing what bears do in the woods, naturally), running through a battle zone with camo-clad soldiers, and engaging in scatological wordplay that would appeal to any 13 year-old boy. “You’re leaving buried treasure behind,” Dubin trills as he joins an archeological dig between two round piles of sand. At least the ad sort of acknowledges the pointlessness of being coy about a product the website refers to as “buttwipes” (yes, it’s one word). When Dubin announces he’s talking about poop, his fellow archeologist answers in a somewhat annoyed tone, “I know, Mike. We all know.” . . .
WWJD?
The invention of wet wipes, was as great as the wheel. Even if they do clog the sewer lines. My colon hole deserves presidential treatment.
I'm the infidel... Allah warned you about. كافر المسلح
I have always wondered how you live in your beloved, "mom's basement" ... are you looking for some presidential salve, while playing on the Internet?
Shut your shit spreader. I don’t chit chat with 3rd world spic elbow rubbers.
I'm the infidel... Allah warned you about. كافر المسلح
Don't throw wet wipes in the toilet unless they're designed for modern sewer systems. Even then, they're a bad idea. But if you're burying stool in the field, go crazy with it. At a dime a wipe or less, it would be hard to spend $50 in any given year unless you're Grizzly Adams.
At home, I wouldn’t. However last year, while vacationing in Mexico... I flushed as many as I could. I called them undocumented ass wipes. I'm the infidel... Allah warned you about. كافر المسلح
Good move. LOL
#2. To: Fred Mertz (#1)
(Edited)
#3. To: Tooconservative (#0)
#4. To: no gnu taxes (#3)
I just use leaves while on a fishing trip.
#5. To: Tooconservative (#2)
My mom told me that the major standby back in the Thirties was last year's Sears & Roebuck catalog.
“Truth is treason in the empire of lies.” - Ron Paul
Those who most loudly denounce Fake News are typically those most aggressively disseminating it.
#6. To: GrandIsland (#4)
(Edited)
What do you do when you're stranded and you don't have a roll?
To prove you're a man, you must wipe with your hand...
#7. To: no gnu taxes (#6)
To prove you're a man, you must wipe with your hand...
#8. To: GrandIsland (#4)
(Edited)
I’m spoiled, I only use baby wipes when I’m out in the woods hunting.
The Straight Poop on Dollar Shave Club’s Wet Wipes For Guys
The Dollar Shave Club guys are back, and this time they’re knocking on the back door. “I’m talking about poop,” CEO Michael Dubin announces in another self-consciously edgy (not to say “cheeky”) YouTube video shilling his company’s newest product: wet wipes for grown men.
Dwight Schrute: "Oh, I'm sorry. Is that not good enough for your anus? Don't get me started on how coddled the modern anus is."
#9. To: Fred Mertz (#1)
Around here they used corn cobs back in the day.
#10. To: Tooconservative (#8)
#11. To: GrandIsland (#10)
My colon hole deserves presidential treatment.
#12. To: buckeroo (#11)
#13. To: GrandIsland (#10)
Even if they do clog the sewer lines.
#14. To: Tooconservative (#13)
Don't throw wet wipes in the toilet unless they're designed for modern sewer systems. Even then, they're a bad idea.
#15. To: GrandIsland (#14)
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