Disclaimer: This article is based on actual news from the real world – honestly! However, it has been sprinkled with a healthy dose of satire.

In a move that makes Black Mirror look like it just wasn’t trying hard enough, select Chinese public restrooms now require users to scan a QR code and watch an advertisement before they are allowed a small ration of toilet paper. Because apparently the natural evolution of surveillance capitalism is straight up monetizing your bunghole.

China solves the toilet paper shortage by inventing YouTube Premium for your butt. (filmstroemstock/depositphotos)

A video shared by “China Insider” shows a poor soul, mid-urge, scanning a code while nervously glancing around, presumably praying the ad doesn’t buffer. After about 15 seconds of watching a man in a lab coat explain the benefits of ginseng shampoo, the machine dispenses a few squares of tissue.

If you don’t want to watch the ad, no problem. You can pay the equivalent of 5 cents to skip straight to the good stuff, like a premium YouTube user, but if YouTube only offered one-ply solutions to your gastrointestinal disasters.

Authorities claim this system is designed to curb “toilet paper abuse,” which apparently means that too many people were treating TP like they were prepping for the next pandemic. According to officials, there were even instances of citizens showing up with empty backpacks and leaving with enough toilet paper to mummify a medium-sized yak.

Critics, including the Anti-Consumption subreddit and everyone with functioning dignity, have referred to the innovation as “dystopian,” “absurd,” and “oh hell no.” There are also practical concerns. For instance, what if your phone battery dies? What if you don’t have mobile data? What if you’re stuck watching a 45-second ad for hemorrhoid cream during an active crisis?

This isn’t even the first time China has tried to limit butt-related resource hoarding. Back in 2017, Beijing’s Temple of Heaven park installed TP dispensers that used facial recognition to determine if someone was allowed more paper. The machines would scan your face, give you exactly 60 centimeters (approx. one heavily rationed trip to Taco Bell), and then lock you out for nine full minutes before you could try again.

This, of course, led to an uncomfortable situation where people with… pressing biological concerns had to flag down a government employee and awkwardly explain the physics of the situation. Nothing says “modern society” like having to make eye contact with a state official while pantomiming explosive diarrhea.

Other bizarre and dystopian Chinese government proposals include:

  • Crosswalk karaoke: Pedestrian crossing lights won’t turn green unless someone sings an entire verse of “Gangnam Style” into a sidewalk microphone. Miss a note? Red light resets. Traffic deaths down, karaoke machine sales way up.
  • Trash bin face-scan sorting: Recycling bins won’t open until they verify your identity with facial recognition, then politely scold you about your carbon footprint. Drop in the wrong item and the bin spits it back out with a loud “shame gong.” Neighborhood kids use it to prank the elderly.
  • Elevator truth-or-dare: Before the elevator moves, passengers must either answer a personal government-survey question (“How patriotic are your dreams on a scale from 1–10?”) or perform a TikTok dance in front of the security camera.
  • Hug tax kiosks: Want to hug a friend in public? First, tap your phones together at the kiosk to log the hug. Hugs over 20 seconds are automatically charged as “suspicious loitering.”
  • ATM motivational speeches: Before dispensing cash, the ATM forces you to record a 30-second video praising your work ethic. Withdrawals over 500 RMB require interpretive dance about fiscal responsibility.
  • Coffee shop monologues: To unlock free Wi-Fi, customers must perform a one-minute speech about how much they love early mornings, productivity, and their boss. Espresso machines will hiss louder if you forget the “praise” part.
  • Grocery cart confessions: To unlock a shopping cart, you must record a public confession of your least efficient purchase last week. “I bought a watermelon the size of a toddler, even though I live alone and own only a butter knife,” earns you only the squeaky cart.

Toilet paper access is now decided by machines, same as your mortgage rate, dating life, and whether you’re allowed to unlock the smart fridge after 10 p.m. By 2030, AI will refuse to let you pee until you listen to three podcast ads and clap for Jeff Bezos’ moon colony.

This story is based on fully factual news, but if we got it wrong, blame these guys, we’re just here to make it funny.