How swearing got less taboo
From Strictly Come Dancing to football, there is a class of cursers who literally don't know they are swearing
Mark Lawson guardian.co.uk, Monday 21 November 2011 21.30 GMT
If you are one of the 600 people who recently complained about the use of the word "sod" on Strictly Come Dancing, you might be advised not to read the next sentence of this article. If you are the judge who has just ruled that the word "fuck" is not necessarily offensive when spoken in public, you may find the previous sentence inexplicable.
The gulf in opinion on acceptable language is starkly illustrated by the proximity of these cases. It's tempting to see a division – of the kind beloved by the popular press – between ordinary decent people and an out-of-touch legal elite. But both linguistic positions turn more subtly on the question of the intent with which a word was used and the extent to which it retains power to offend.
The great speech policeman Professor David Crystal points out, in his recent book The Story of English in 100 Words, that taboo usages have generally travelled from earlier acceptability. One of his century of expressions is the most generally offensive female genital expletive, and yet it appeared in early gynaecology textbooks and even street names.
But when Len Goodman called fellow hoofing judge Craig Revel Horwood "a silly little sod", he used a word that has made the reverse journey from dark to light. In its probably 19th-century origins, the insult imputed sodomy until, along with "bugger", becoming a mild and even semi-affectionate rebuke. In online discussions some objecting viewers suspected an anti-camp or homophobic subtext in the TV exchange. I doubt that Goodman intended this, but such judgments are subtle; if he had called the professedly bisexual Revel Horwood a "silly bugger", he would almost certainly have his next few Saturday evenings free because that word retains more of its pejorative power.
On television there would be no doubt about the offensiveness of the words that 20-year-old Denzel Harvey used to the cops searching him. F-words are always bleeped (and pixelated, thus protecting lip-readers as well) before or close to the 9pm watershed, and subjected to advance warnings in other slots. The obscene message the singer Rihanna childishly chose to wear on her shoes on The X Factor this weekend provoked fury from the Sun, on behalf of the studio audience, but was not easily seen on TV. So those who welcome these restrictions may consider Mr Justice Bean – who ruled that Harvey's cursing was not a public order offence – a silly little sod. "Inspector Gadget", the blogging name of a senior police officer, has already warned of a verbal free-for-all in public places.
The appeal judge's argument, though, is sophisticated and challenging. The concept of "swearing" or "bad language" depends on the idea that certain expressions are irregular or taboo. But modern society frequently seems afflicted with Tourette's. On trains and buses it is now standard to hear, on one end of a mobile phone, conversation of a sort once tolerated only during gangland poker games and Radio 3 plays.
In this context, the judge ruled, it is impossible to argue that public order has been offended by the speaking of such terms on an east London street. (The verdict might have been different if Harvey had let rip in a church or school.)
The biggest problem is that the history of swearing has generally involved the user – novelist, playwright, comedian, student – deliberately and knowingly using taboo terms for dramatic, libertarian or insulting reasons. Now, however, there is a class of cursers who literally don't know they're doing it.
Recently, in a move that still surprises me in retrospect with its potential riskiness, I asked a supporter at a League Two football match if he might consider minding his language. The bloke had been vocal throughout the first half, hollering the C-word and F-word in various combinations at the referee, assistant referee and the home team.
Although all 14 men had more than earned this derision by their performance, I was present at the game with a 12-year-old and there were other much younger children in what is commonly considered the family section of the ground. At half-time, in the queue for the loo, I mentioned to the man that, while there was widespread support for his views, it might be better for the children to hear a bit less swearing. His non-ironic response: "Swearing? I ain't been [sexual adjective] swearing, you [genital noun]." :shock:
Had I been enough of a silly sod to call a copper, I imagine that, eventually, the court of appeal would have supported the supporter's view that he wasn't swearing. And, technically, he wasn't. Truly taboo terms – used by racists, for example – depend on speaker and hearer knowing a bomb is being exploded.
But neither the Strictly judge nor the youth judged unstrictly by the appeal court thought they were saying anything much. To which those raised in cleaner-speaking ages can only sigh and think: "Well, [insert preferred cuss word] me."
http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree ... less-taboo