Where Are the TTC's Restrooms?

The transit agency's failure to provide accessible restrooms demonstrates a severe, if not tactical, neglect of its passengers' needs

The subway slows to a crawl before it stops with a sudden thunk. The conductor’s voice—inaudible, crackling in and out on the intercom—announces that there has been a delay at a nearby station. I sigh, checking the time and calculating how much this delay will set me back. But in the back of my mind, another, more pressing issue rears its head: how long can I hold it in?

When the train finally lurches into a station, I weigh my options: should I get off here and try to find a bathroom in a strange neighbourhood, or do I endure the discomfort? Will I be able to make it? What seems like a trivial human function increasingly becomes a recurring—and often embarrassing—source of dread whenever I leave the house. For many, I imagine, stopping to use the restroom doesn’t factor into their commute. For me, it’s an unspoken source of anxiety.

On the TTC, delays are routine, and restrooms are few and far between. The transit service provides 1.7 million individual trips every workday, or around 540 million rides per year. Yet, of the 70 available stations, there are only 13 washroom facilities. The TTC's failure to provide clean and accessible restrooms demonstrates a severe neglect of its passengers' basic needs and rights, especially given that only 58 percent of trips are on time as of 2022.

Moreover, the lack of available restrooms is a major accessibility issue for many Toronto commuters. To state the obvious: washrooms aren't used exclusively for relieving oneself. They provide a private space to tend to very human needs that do not pause just in between stations. It follows that equal access to restrooms in public spaces is a basic human right, particularly for individuals with health conditions (such as irritable bowel syndrome), parents with children, and people experiencing homelessness.

For such people, the lack of TTC washrooms is the difference between using the transit service or not at all. While most riders are forced to wait, the added minutes—and, yes, sometimes hours—to their commute can take a toll. In some scenarios, it may be necessary to exit the TTC system entirely.

You may be asking: to what degree does the TTC, which is fundamentally a transit service, owe its customers restrooms? Well, the TTC is a government-owned agency that citizens use on a near-daily basis. Not only do they use it, but they also help keep it running. As of 2022, the TTC recovers nearly 70 percent of its operating budget from fares, meaning that most of its revenue comes directly from passengers paying to use the service. It’s only natural that the TTC feels like an extension of the city itself.

On a system as large and heavily used as the TTC, treating restrooms as an afterthought overlooks the fact that millions of riders rely on this infrastructure daily, and their needs extend well beyond getting from point A to point B. The TTC has a responsibility to provide riders with clean and reliable restrooms, given their role in keeping the transportation system running.

In the past, the TTC has avoided addressing the accessibility needs of travellers by claiming that adding washrooms to existing subway stations is “prohibitively costly.” The TTC’s existing policy has been to build public washrooms at terminal stations only. Rather than an oversight, the TTC’s lack of washrooms can be understood through the lens of what urbanists call “defensive urbanism,” a strategy in urban design that shapes or restricts how people use public spaces.

In her essay, "Designing out Disorder" from Messy Cities, public space advocate Cara Chellew argues that defensive urbanism is often tied to crime prevention and property protection. By using design elements, it aims to influence behaviour without relying on authorities. This can involve making spaces less inviting for certain activities through uncomfortable seating, barriers, or a lack of public amenities.

In transit systems, the effect is clear: benches, water fountains, and washrooms may be removed, closed, or poorly maintained, creating what Chellew refers to as “ghost amenities,” design elements that exist in name but not in practice. (I can't count the number of times I've fallen to my knees before an "Out of Order sign.") The absence of washrooms on the TTC reflects a deliberate strategy to control the movement and behaviour of riders rather than a simple planning oversight.

Right now, multiple transit expansion projects are underway, which would introduce hundreds of thousands of daily commuters to the TTC but only a handful of restrooms. While these projects are still in the construction phase, the TTC should reevaluate its policy and build more public washrooms across the subway system to address the accessibility needs of commuters. It seems, however, like the transit agency is prioritizing new projects instead of addressing the public safety concerns of its existing spaces. If the TTC ignores this basic element of catering to passengers’ needs, then what does that say about the TTC’s funding model? Why should we pay for a service that overlooks our most basic needs?

Let me be clear: nobody wants to use the TTC restrooms; we would much prefer a delay-free commute. Even still, TTC riders don’t ask for much; they only require the minimum amount to travel with dignity and comfort. The issue goes beyond minor inconvenience; it’s a matter of public health, safety, and equity. Clean, accessible washrooms are not a luxury but a necessity in any well-functioning public transit system.

If the TTC can’t manage this, how can we trust them to handle more complex projects like the Eglington Crosstown West Expansion? The problem with prioritizing flashy new developments over improving core services is that it ignores the reality of day-to-day commuting. Riders deserve better, and they shouldn’t have to feel anxious or ashamed about a biological need while using public transport. Because, in the end, a transit system isn’t just about moving people. It’s about serving them. And until the TTC addresses this glaring oversight, it will continue to fail its riders.