Modern toilet seats are fantastic

The one I grew up with was a slab of white plastic on two hinges that came loose every few months. It was cold in the morning and it slid sideways if you sat down at the wrong angle. The lid dropped with a bang the whole house could hear. That was normal. I didn’t think about replacing it.

Then at some point soft-close lids appeared, and it’s the kind of small thing you stop noticing within a week. You let go of the lid and it lowers itself, slowly, in silence. The first time I saw one I stood there and pushed it down again just to watch. Now a slamming lid feels like something is broken.

The heated seat is the one I did not see coming. I’d read about the Japanese ones for years and filed it under “gimmick”. Then I sat on one on a cold morning in a cold bathroom and, I’m slightly embarrassed to say, it was one of the nicest small surprises I’ve had in a house. Central European winters are long and bathroom tiles are not warm. A seat that’s warm when you sit down turns out to matter far more than it has any right to.

The full versions go further. A little arm comes out and washes you with warm water, then a warm air dryer takes over. The whole thing runs off a remote on the wall, and some of them open the lid when you walk in. Japan has had these in ordinary homes for decades and the rest of us looked at them like they were science fiction. Once you’ve used one, the surprising part is how quickly it feels normal, and how odd a plain seat feels afterwards.

I’ve no idea why it took so long for this stuff to spread. It’s a seat with a heating element and a small water pump in it. I have no idea what the parts cost, or how much work a particular bathroom would need. I suppose nobody wants to be the person at the dinner party who brings up how good their toilet is.

I have become the person who mentions the heated seat after a visit.