Imagine going to the bathroom in the forest and feeling like you’re part of an ecological cycle — not just leaving waste behind, but actually helping create something useful. That’s the promise behind MycoToilet, a groundbreaking “mushroom-powered” toilet built by researchers at the University of British Columbia (UBC). And over in the Scottish Highlands, the Mountain Bothies Association (MBA) quietly rethinks outdoor sanitation in remote huts (“bothies”), showing another way to balance wild living and environmental responsibility.
At UBC’s Botanical Garden, a small cedar-paneled building houses what might be the world’s first mushroom-powered, waterless toilet. The team behind it hopes to reshape how we think about composting toilets — not as smelly, complicated contraptions, but as “pleasant, clean, and connected to nature.”
“We wanted to turn a daily routine everyone knows into a pleasant experience that reminds us of our connection to ecological cycles, ” Joseph Dahmen, associate professor at UBC’s School of Architecture and Landscape Architecture, explains. He acknowledges that composting toilets often come with negative baggage. “We aimed to create a system that’s clean, comfortable and easy to use.”
MycoToilet
So how does the MycoToilet work? The system separates liquid and solid waste. Solids go into a compartment lined with mycelium, the root-network of mushrooms. There, fungi produce enzymes that break down the biomass. This microbial-fungal collaboration accelerates decomposition without adding water, electricity, or chemicals.
“Fungi are very good at breaking down biomass, including human and animal waste. They produce enzymes that transform material into simpler compounds while supporting microbial communities that accelerate decomposition,” said Dr. Steven Hallam, professor of microbiology and immunology at UBC.
In lab tests, the mycelium liner removed more than 90 percent of odor-causing compounds. Maintenance is surprisingly light: just four visits per year. The toilet is also wheelchair-accessible, designed to be modular so it can be dropped into parks, remote communities, or areas with no plumbing. Once fully operating, UBC researchers estimate it will produce roughly 600 liters of compost-rich soil and 2,000 liters of liquid fertilizer per year.
According to Dahmen, if the pilot goes well, MycoToilet could become a self-contained, cost-effective sanitation solution — especially in places that otherwise lack infrastructure.

From mountains to oceans, delivered to you. Follow us on Lingkar Bumi WhatsApp Channel.
Bothy Toilets
Meanwhile, in the rugged hills of Scotland and Wales, the Mountain Bothies Association quietly maintains remote shelters (bothies) without plumbing or modern amenities. For many users, a bothy’s charm lies precisely in its simplicity — but sanitation has always been a tricky question.
Historically, bothy users would dig a “bothy spade” hole some distance from the hut, do their business there, and then cover it. This is still encouraged in many places. According to the MBA’s guidance, if there’s no toilet, you should bury waste well away from the bothy, at least 50 meters from any water source. But the MBA also recognizes that as use increases, more robust solutions are needed.
Richard Grummitt, who serves as the MBA’s sanitation officer, has spoken publicly about the challenges. In the MBA’s review report, he explains that there isn’t a “one size fits all” solution when it comes to toilets in bothies. Soil type, climate, cost, and maintenance capacity all play a role. The MBA’s sanitation policy calls for rugged, reliable toilets that ideally last at least ten years while demanding almost no extra input from volunteers.
In some bothies, the MBA has already installed composting or long-drop toilets; in others, they use septic tanks or more basic systems. For example, Walkhighlands reported that at Corrour Bothy, the MBA redesigned the toilet area so the interior could better handle the volume of waste.
Grummitt describes a pilot strategy. Build different types of toilets in various bothies over a period of years, monitor how they perform, and learn which designs work best in different terrain and conditions. This is deeply pragmatic — not chasing trendy eco-ideas, but designing for real use, real remoteness, and real volunteer capacity.
Why These Two Worlds Matter
At first glance, a fungal toilet in a botanical garden and old stone huts in the Highlands have little in common. But they reflect the same core philosophy: sanitation should respect nature, not fight it. Both projects show that we don’t need massive infrastructure or harsh chemicals to deal with human waste; rather, we can lean into ecological systems.
MycoToilet invites people to rethink their relationship with waste: instead of seeing it as something dirty and disposable, we can view it as part of a living cycle. The bothy model reminds us that even in remote, minimal places, human dignity and environmental integrity can coexist.
These are not fringe ideas. UBC’s prototype is real, supported by rigorous lab work and real-world pilot testing. The MBA’s sanitation policy comes from decades of experience, on-the-ground volunteer work, and careful stewardship of bothies.
Looking Ahead
Imagine if MycoToilet-like systems were deployed in national parks, refugee camps, or remote villages around the world. Think of bothies that don’t just rely on spades, but use composting toilets optimized for their environment — reducing pollution and preserving the wilderness.
These innovations challenge us to ask: What if toilets weren’t just places of concealment, but active contributors to ecological health? What if our most basic facilities reflected our respect for the planet?
In a way, MycoToilet and the MBA’s bothy sanitation efforts are two sides of the same coin. Building a future where convenience and care for nature are not opposed, but deeply aligned. (Wage Erlangga)
