But I can no longer live in the shadows, ashamed and afraid. Its time for toilet texters to come out of the (water) closet.

New York - Last week, I texted a colleague from the bathroom and then denied it. I’d written a blog post, sent it to him to proofread, got up to have a wee, and then realised I had omitted a key fact.

I didn’t want him to set the post live during the 60 seconds it was going to take me to finish my business and wash my hands, so I did what any self-respecting digital native would do. I opened my Google Hangouts app and chatted him to hold the post.

When I emerged into our open-plan office, he immediately called me out on my behaviour – “Did you just text me from the loo?” – and in response I told a flat-out lie. “No,” I scoffed. “That would be gross.”

But I can no longer live in the shadows, ashamed and afraid. It’s time for toilet texters to come out of the (water) closet. Done in the proper spirit, toilet texting/e-mailing/tweeting/chatting does no harm and is, in fact, a force for good – not to mention a cultural inevitability.

Here are just a few reasons I take my iPhone to the loo: By doing a smidge of extra work during bathroom breaks, I am doing my part to wring the last productivity gains from the IT boom.

I am also doing my part for (a certain variant of rich white lady workplace) feminism, checking the cute pics of my baby sent by my nanny without “stealing” the time from my employer.

By breaking taboos, I am pushing back against the surprisingly large role that irrational or semi-rational feelings of disgust play in our moral judgements, an essential step in the historical march to a more civilised, pluralistic, and peaceable world.

Plus, I’m pretty busy.

And you probably are, too. A YouGov/Huffington Post poll last autumn found that half of people aged 18-29 use their phones on the toilet, with 42 percent of people aged 30-44 and a quarter of people aged 45-64 fessing up to the same behaviour.

Loo much information?

These are all people who presumably know they would suffer social disapprobation for their behaviour, but do it anyway. Even people who say they disapprove of toilet texting do it, which suggests they value the gains they get from those stolen digital moments more than they’re willing to admit.

In fact, similar numbers of people text and e-mail in far riskier scenarios. A recent US poll joins dozens of similar studies that have found that about half of drivers under the age of 35 admit to texting while behind the wheel.

And nearly everyone eats at their desks these days, combining work with yet another biological function while risking a certain amount of unhygienic revoltingness.

Such behaviour makes a little excretory multi-tasking seem downright harmless.

But perhaps the harm is deeper and subtler. An ever-growing cadre of thinkers and writers worry on behalf of millennials and other device junkies. They fret that we are not taking time for mindfulness, that we are failing to realise the ultimate benefits of downtime.

Sociologist, TED talker, and amazing French accent-haver (and the inspiration for this diatribe) Yves Morieux, suggested earlier this month at a conference that smartphone use on the toilet is a sign that things have gone too far, that we are too stressed, too maxed out. Present on the same panel was Brigid Schulte, author of the new book Overwhelmed.

Schulte is concerned that we are no longer enjoying long uninterrupted periods of peace and/or productivity.

But I suspect that many of the millions of people who bring their phones to the can are actually extending periods of productivity in a way that feels natural and non-burdensome. Others may actually be grabbing those moments of serenity that are tough to come by in the modern world.

Our devices are increasingly parts of ourselves. Soon we will be trotting to the pot with our Google Glass or Oculus Rift 3.0 goggles already strapped on. The notion that there are times and places where we should be separated from our devices will become increasingly quaint in the not-too-distant future. I, for one, plan to keep conducting work and social business in the throne room, and I look forward to a future where you all join me. (Just not literally.) – Slate