Apparently a number of people are employed in figuring out how to make toilet paper perform better in the bathroom. I really prefer my toilet paper to be more inert. I don’t want to think it’s doing anything behind my back, at least nothing I’m not personally doing with it behind my back. But we’re stuck with performing toilet paper now. We’re in the heyday of fancy tissue manufacture. The stuff is definitely on a roll.

It all seems a little precious. After all, humans have had a million years of evolution and didn’t even bother with toilet paper until a hundred or so years ago. There wasn’t paper of any kind for a lot of that time. Early paper would be your papyrus, but as far as we know no one used it as a butt wipe. It was not in great supply, which is why we used to have palimpsests, wherein an old written-on piece of papyrus was scrubbed clean for re-use, and I’d venture to say there never would have been a good market for palimpsest toilet paper. TP is a one-and-done kind of product.

Still, Marketing has insisted we upgrade our toilet paper experience, and has gone to considerable lengths to develop features that might give the product a commercial edge. Charmin, for example, has invested a not-piddling amount of research and development into its new scallop-edge perforations, designed to give you a clean tear every time, so you no longer need to suffer the horror of uneven edges. The straight-edge perforations we’ve all become accustomed to don’t tear as neatly because of the angles at which we come at the problem. Apparently most of us can’t be arsed to take a dab of care in tearing off TP, even though we’re just sitting there.

When I’m bored I like to imagine explaining all this to the fellow a couple hundred years ago who cleaned his butt with a corn cob.

It’s all a matter of perspective, isn’t it? I mean, when I encounter those toilet paper dispensers in the pit toilets in wilderness areas, the kind that will not give you more than two squares at a pull before snapping back, and that feels like slick parchment paper, I am not primed to expect a delightful experience, and frankly I’m pumped there’s any toilet paper at all, never a guarantee in those situations.

Charmin, of course, is the worst offender of several brands of toilet paper whose super softness owes to its use of virgin wood. I don’t know. I don’t have hemorrhoids, but even so I’d like to think that if I were given the choice of asswipes with angel-soft plushness or an intact old-growth forest, I’d come down on the side of leaving the giants alone to sequester carbon, clean air, and house birds and bugs and critters. I am so accustomed to my recycled-paper or bamboo TP that I don’t even like the soft TP I occasionally encounter in people’s houses. It feels icky, and also leaves butt crumble. Next thing they’ll manufacture secondary after-wipes to take care of the butt crumble. They’ll design double-roll dispensers and market it as Fluff ’n’ Buff.

The Trump administration, however, has caught wind of the move toward bamboo and other more sustainable toilet paper. In order to prop up the timber industry that has been treated so unfairly, they are now mandating standards ensuring a percentage of each roll of TP be made using giant redwoods and European mink fur. As the press secretary has pointed out, developing a TP market using fur from the 5,000 remaining European minks in the wild will lead to more protections for its habitat. You know, probably. Plus, they’re in Russia and we’re not putting tariffs on Russia.

Mr. Trump is said to be interested in soft toilet tissue on a personal level, and aides reveal he has inquired into having top-secret documents made out of the same materials, in case that’s all that’s at hand in the golden bathroom.