I think I've only ever met two people who never swore. One for moral and religious reasons, the other had taught herself not to, because she thought she was doing it too much. I admired them both for their self-control and adhering to something they believed to be right.
Nevertheless, for right or wrong, I do swear. A fair amount I suppose, but not particularly excessively - although certainly a great deal more when speaking than when writing. As a blogger and copywriter, it is obviously wise to temper the use of sailor-speak when typing. A blog littered with profanity is going to upset someone very quickly, and that may well be the person paying me, so I like to avoid that hazard. And very few clients brief a copywriter to create an ad, app or website littered with rude words. Indeed, that has never once happened.
But it's interesting the way in which certain words have so much power that their use is restricted in these areas. If I was to write an ad or a column that included the word 'artichoke', I could do so without fear of negative consequences (provided, I suppose, it was relevant). However, if I undertook the same task and wished to deploy the word 'f*ck' - all sorts of potential troubles would rear their heads. Which is obvious from the fact I've had to use an asterisk instead of the vowel, in the previous sentence. Only, they're both just written characters. The second word cannot directly cause physical harm or peril, because it's just a word. Or is it?
"We're repelled, excited or provoked by the images these words conjure."
Swear words are usually (although not always) associated with sexual or bodily functions, and they have appeared because we have an instinctive reaction to those aspects of human behaviour. We're repelled, excited or provoked by the images these words conjure - so the words themselves now have the ability to inspire the same reaction, by proxy. 'Artichoke' produces a neutral mental image of an edible thistle, whereas 'f*ck' ignites any number of highly charged associations. There is clearly a hierarchy of strength in our vocabularies. All words are not the same, and if we image language to be a box of fireworks, we can see that some are sparklers (he, she, they, the, it, and), some are roman candles (fear, joy, wonder, grief, love, thrill) and others are big, dangerous rockets (you can add your own swear words here).
Although I was sure it would come, I always imagined I wouldn't live to see a mainstream advertisement containing swearing. I was wrong. A couple of years ago, the Australian Tourist Board ran a campaign on British TV. The pay off featured a pretty woman asking "Where the bloody hell are ya?". It was a great piece of work, enhanced by the taboo-busting script; funny, unexpected and loaded with Aussie personality. Okay, 'bloody' isn't the strongest obscenity in the box, but it used to be much more of contender. As a schoolboy, had I used the word in earshot of a teacher, I would have been heartily punished. In thirty years, 'bloody' has moved from shocking to completely acceptable. I heard a caller use it on the radio only this morning, and the presenter didn't turn a hair.
So, does this mean we will eventually hear the dreaded 'c' word in daytime broadcasts and advertising campaigns? Frankly, yes. There is no reason why one swear word would evolve to become tame and tolerable and not another. It won't happen next week, or anytime soon, but it will happen. Late night TV is now an open field for any 'bad' language in the book. The 'c' word is never heard on adult panel games (although 'f*cking is), but it is used in dramas. That would have been unthinkable just twenty years ago.
True, I get a bit fed-up when I hear somebody use 'f*ck' as mere punctuation. Largely because it takes away much of its venomous sting - but I won't stop swearing. I quite enjoy it - and it's particularly handy when I'm frustrated, alarmed or irate. I try not to do it in front of children or elderly relatives, but other than that, my industrial potty mouth does more or less what it likes.
Swear words are a wonderful part of our verbal heritage. We should be revering, celebrating and relishing those funny, abrasive, angry and forceful syllables, rather than letting them upset or offend us. Who the f*ck's with me?
Magnus Shaw is a f*cking copywriter, blogger and consultant
Randy Kershner August 8th, 2014, in the evening
Great commentary, Magnus. When I was in college, I had a class in semantics and one day the professor engaged us in a discussion of swear words. She explained, as you noted, how some words (curse words) have more power than others by the association we bring to them. She then had us yell out all the possible swear words / curse words / dirty words we could think of, while she wrote them all on the blackboard. Imagine a class of students given free rein to yell out swear words in the classroom... and to have your teacher write them down for all to see... without anyone being sent to the principal's office or given detention! It was oddly cathartic – and an impressive way to make the point that words are merely words, a conglomeration of various letters, that in and of themselves, have no meaning, for good or bad.Anyway, that's where my mind went as I read your very delightful musings. Personally, I rarely swear. The younger me avoided it for moral/religious reasons. The older (wiser?) me avoids it in accordance with the quote I once read somewhere: "Swearing is a lazy man's way of being emphatic."
But sometimes there's just no replacement for a good "f*ck"...
Thanks for sharing!