The University Toilet Wall

A Bastion of Free Expression

By now, the topic of free speech being on its deathbed in western universities has become an eyeroll.  It’s become something that old-timers say, a lost cause.  But you don’t really know the eeriness of the whole thing unless you’ve experienced it yourself.  It’s like an episode out of Black Mirror.  When I was getting ready to go to university myself, I had heard of all the cliches.  I knew about the routine and ceremonious protesting that’s always happening.  I knew about the angry communist posters all over campus.  But I thought all of that was constrained to the level of ambience.  If - like I used to - you think that the people you meet amidst it all are mostly unaffected by it, you likely haven’t spent enough time on campus these days.  

Ideology governs every nook and corner of campus: from presentation slides in class to the stickers on laptops in the study hall.  Every opinion expressed in lecture halls, every club promotion on social media and even a passing comment you hear while you are on campus, conforms to the new orthodoxy.  I have yet to witness an exception to this rule.

This one time, I was seated in a common area, surfing YouTube and a Joe Rogan clip happened to show up on my screen, prompting me to instinctively look over my shoulder to make sure nobody saw.  At first, I thought it was quite strange that every single person in college has the exact same view on everything and recites the same political cliches in identical sentences when asked a question. But of course, that’s not what the reality is.  It’s a polite reign of fear.  The confused looks people give you when you don’t nod righteously during the land acknowledgements, the throat clearings you hear when an odd view is expressed; the fear of ostracization, one of the oldest fears known to man. 

What makes me especially cynical are my suspicions around the sincerity of this movement.  It increasingly feels like the “Free Palestine” slogans I hear echoing around me are just glorified vibe-checks.  Just something the activists say to feel you out before associating with you.  This leads us to the deeply depressing realization that all of this noise and trampling on freedoms is really for nothing.  

I now see that I’ve digressed into my usual doomsayer tendencies.  Believe it or not, I started this essay with the intent of expressing hope.  There is actually one place on campus that retains the culture of debate and disagreement.  The verbal sword-fighting that, for so long, was closely associated with the image of a western university holds its last bastion…on the toilet walls.  I don’t say this lightly or sarcastically, but the university toilet wall is now the only real safe space for the free-spirited.  

It’s an absurd phenomenon.  The words scribbled onto these walls range from crude jokes to thought-provoking political commentary.  It’s a raw and unfiltered expression of views that these students couldn’t muster up the courage to bring up elsewhere.  I remember the first time I stumbled upon this hidden realm.  It was during my first term in college, and I was simply taken aback by the contrast that this netherworld provided to the world outside.  There were passionate arguments about everything from campus politics to global affairs, adorned with doodles and drawings that added a touch of levity to the serious discussions.  There was the occasional “Call this number for cheap cigs'’ scribbled here and there as a reminder that this was after all, a toilet wall.  But that didn’t take away from the strange warmth of this phenomenon.

I have a favorite toilet wall debate that I watched go back and forth, day by day.  I had a 10 AM class and would go to the washroom right before it. In one of the stalls, there was a big message written on the wall with a pink marker: “Trans people own the world.” This was on the first day.  Of course, when I first saw that, I just went, “Huh”, not knowing that this was going to be the beginning of an Oxford Union debate.  A couple of days later, I happened to go into the same stall, and under the message was an arrow that pointed to a response: “Inflation is sky-high, people can’t afford rent or food, and this is what y’all care about? Time to grow up.” Wow, this guy must’ve had a bad day, I muttered, thinking that was the end of that.  But later, I started waiting to get into the same stall every day, out of curiosity and I’m glad I did.  What started as a mindless comment on the wall developed into a mature debate with bullet points and citations.  It was very clear that the same two people came in there every other day to respond to their opponent.  Both of them had developed fans of their own who cheered their guy on with drawings of emojis.  These tended to be unsavory at times, but that was part of the competition.

What struck me the most was the anonymity afforded to those who contributed to the dialogue.  Without fear of reprisal or judgment, these students could express their views openly and honestly.  It was a liberating experience, a stark contrast to the stifling atmosphere of conformity that pervaded the rest of the campus.  It was as though the walls themselves had become confidants for the students.  Every scrawled message, every hastily penned retort was a testament to the nature of human expression.  Here, amidst the mundane backdrop of tiled walls and flickering fluorescent lights, students found solace in this haven afforded by the graffiti covered stall.  Despite the cacophony of voices clamoring for attention, there was a sense of unity in this diversity of expression.  Here, in this humble space, students from all walks of life came together, united by a shared desire for authenticity and freedom of speech.

For me the university toilet wall has become a symbol of defiance against the homogenization of thought that plagues modern academia.  It’s a reminder that differing voices still exist, even in the overwhelming pressure to toe the line.

But, as I reflect on the significance of this unlikely sanctuary, I can’t help but feel a sense of sadness.  The fact that students feel compelled to resort to graffiti on bathroom walls to express themselves tells us a great deal about the mess we’re in.  It’s a symptom of a larger problem, one that threatens the very foundation of intellectual freedom in higher education.  In a world that’s even remotely close to an ideal one, these students would be sitting in the cafeteria, face to face, or even better - standing up in classrooms, debating and disagreeing fearlessly.

And yet, despite this gloomy state of affairs, there is reason to hope.  The phenomenon of the university toilet wall reminds us that the human spirit is resilient.  Our capacity to adapt, evolve and persevere in the face of censorship has always made the world a braver place.