Nearly three hours into what seemed to be a standard Minneapolis city council meeting, the subject of fucking raw in bathhouses came up—indirectly, and through layers of euphemisms. The council was considering repealing its longstanding ban on bathhouses, and council president Elliott Payne was making his case.
“This isn't just about community; this is about public health,” Payne said, arguing that sex is already occurring in “the shadows” of the city. “We want to work with staff so that we can actually put some really sound parameters around this type of activity so that when it does happen, it's happening in a safe way that is aligned with best practices in public health.”
The last legally operating gay bathhouse in Minneapolis, 315 Health Club, closed its doors on July 14, 1988. The next day, the city council voted unanimously to ban all venues facilitating “high-risk” sexual activity. Now, 38 years after banning bathhouses in the name of public health, Minneapolis’ city council is reconsidering that decision in the name of, among other things, public health.
The shift reflects four decades of progress for the LGBTQ+ community, as well as significant advancements in the treatment and prevention of HIV.
During the height of the epidemic, the closure of Minneapolis’ bathhouses was part of a larger movement in queer urban hotspots targeting businesses seen as facilitating “high-risk sexual behavior” to curb the spread of the virus. By the late 80s, laws, restrictions, and outright bans on bathhouses had been passed in gay meccas like San Francisco, New York City, Los Angeles, and Chicago. Minneapolis’ bathhouse and glory hole prohibition was championed by Brian Coyle, the city’s first gay council member who was himself secretly living with HIV.
“40, 45 years ago, I think it was very reasonable for the Minneapolis council to ban and shut down bathhouses,” said Professor Simon Rosser, a researcher from the University of Minnesota’s School of Public Health’s Division of Epidemiology and Community Health whose work focuses on HIV/AIDS. During the mid-80s, when there was no effective treatment for the virus, closing bathhouses made sense. “Way back at the beginning, there was great uncertainty. We didn't know how to treat HIV.”
But those closures were a double-edged sword. The prohibition had unintended consequences. They contributed to the growing wave of serophobic and anti-gay sentiment in conservative political circles.
For The Safer Sex Spaces Coalition, a group of Minnesota-based LGBTQ advocates, ending the ban is about more than just sex—it’s about ending stigmatization of the LGBTQ community and restoring communal infrastructure lost during the HIV crisis. The Coalition was formed to recognize that the "climate around our health has changed,” according to Kat Rohn, a Coalition member and executive director of the LGBTQ+ advocacy group OutFront Minnesota. “Folks need spaces where they can feel welcome and feel free to fully express themselves, where they can engage and move through the world without stigma or shame or challenge. This is an opportunity to expand that circle of spaces.”
Though the city made sex venues illegal, the sex didn't stop; it relocated to parks, rest stops, basements, and back alleys—places where safety is never a guarantee, and lightning-fast HIV tests are nowhere to be found.
The lack of communal sexual spaces is a problem of visibility, especially for DL, bisexual, and other men who have sex with men who may not frequent overtly “gay” bars, clinics, or community spaces where public health intervention has historically taken place.
If the closure of bathhouses was intended to protect men who have sex with men from the risk of exposure, today, public health experts like Rosser argue that leaving them closed risks exposure to a different kind of threat: invisibility to the healthcare system.
“HIV prevention has changed dramatically,” Professor Rosser said. Though rapid testing and effective medicines have made HIV preventable and treatable, Rosser says the challenge now is outreach— especially to those outside the traditional sphere of the self-identified LGBTQ+ community. That’s why, he argues, bathhouses’ anonymity and freedom make them an especially useful way to reach DL, bisexual, or curious members of the community for testing and HIV treatment. “When you look at people in a bathhouse, it's a venue that often [welcomes] people who are more closeted or have other reasons why it's very hard for them to go and admit this to their doctor.”
Payne echoed Rosser’s concerns as he pleaded his case to the city council. He pointed to San Francisco, which used bathhouses as sites to administer the MPox vaccine following its own repeal of bathhouse bans in 2020.
Bathhouses aren’t just places for hot, sweaty, gay group sex. They’re important hubs for public health and community building. New treatment and prevention strategies widely available mean the threat that once spurred legislators to shutter bathhouses is a lot easier to mitigate.
But as important as they may be to public health, it’s easy to forget that bathhouses are also just fun. They represent a unique space for relaxation and socialization while also serving as a safe place for sex. Yes, cruising out in the world is always a thrill, but it’s nice to know there’s a place you can go that offers safety and resources, where you can facilitate your steamy sexual desires freely without the risk of accidentally interrupting a corporate softball game or cock-blocked by a police officer or any number of unsafe situations that the horned-up mind may take you.
The steps Minneapolis’ City Council are taking to reexamine the ordinances surrounding bathhouses is a continuation of the LGBTQ+ advocacy work that Brian Coyle began over 38 years ago—and other cities like Los Angeles, New York, and Atlanta with remaining bathhouse bans should take note.
As Safer Sex Spaces Coalition member Dylan Boyer reminded me: sex is a basic human need. In arguing for legal bathhouses, he says "we are affirming people's sexual identity and their gender identity and saying, you belong here in the city and here's the space for you to get your freak on."
At a time when the LGBTQ+ community once again finds itself under attack, the destigmatization and legalization of gay bathhouses can offer a vital outlet for the queer community. At a bathhouse, we can come together and cum together, blow off some steam, and, if nothing else, take a little pressure off the janitors at Equinox.