“There ought to be a room in every house to swear in. It’s dangerous to have to repress an emotion like that.” – Mark Twain
Most of us are taught not to swear as children. In my younger days, I enjoyed the taste of soap in my mouth enough times to know that it was something to be avoided. I can remember the consequences of repeating the choice words of my father, who cursed like the proverbial sailor because, well… he was a sailor. And then there was my third-grade teacher, who would swear under her breath as she read Peter Rabbit to us in class. I learned way too much from her that year and explaining away the source of my choice use of words to the principal didn’t seem to help my case all that much.
A series of decidedly blue-collar work experiences in my younger years only honed my skill with the fouler side of our language. Spending my summers working alongside Vietnam War veterans broadened my selection of colorful metaphors to the point where it became my true medium. Three decades of military service seemed to be the icing on the cake; by the time I learned to tame the beast within, it was time to move on to a second career.
knowing the rules
At a certain point in my life, I understood that there were times when I should restrain my inner Red Foreman. Some would say that such language denoted a lack of culture. Others might suggest that it reflected a lack of intelligence. My mother would just say that it was rude, ignoring the fact that her husband rarely shied away from such language. But I heard the message, saw the writing on the wall.
In most instances, they were right. I don’t know if swearing reveals a lack of culture, but it’s best not to do so in mixed company where some might be offended. There’s no doubt that some words and phrases are to be avoided in certain settings. I’ve heard people curse in church and that never seems to go over well. I dispute the idea that swearing reflects a lack of intelligence; there’s a plentiful body of research to suggest otherwise. Although dropping swear words in polite company might be an indicator of a lack of intelligence or at least a lack of common sense, swearing even has health benefits– something I like to remind others as often as practical.
But is it rude? It depends.
Getting your message Across
There’s a spectrum to rudeness when it comes to swearing. Swearing at someone can generally be considered rude, even if you feel like they deserve it. Doing so pretty much assures that you’ll escalate the situation, whatever that situation may be. It can also be especially humiliating. Call someone the wrong thing in a public setting and you can bet they’ll never, ever forget about it. You’ll be on a list for as long as you live, and that’s never a good thing.
Swearing about someone is more of a gray area. Rarely a day goes by when I don’t curse at another driver on the road – why some people drive they way they do is a mystery that will never be solved – but I don’t tempt the road rage gods by letting them know how I feel. That tends to be the dividing line: as long as you can be assured that the other person doesn’t know that you’re swearing about them, it more or less falls squarely in the “no harm, no foul” region of the gray area.
Swearing about something, though, is rarely rude. Frankly, when you do so, in most cases you’re outwardly projecting a frustration that is shared by others. If you don’t swear loudly after hitting your thumb with a hammer, most people would think there was something wrong with you. However, if you walk by the same hammer and call it a foul name, you might be accused of being insane. So, there are limits.
using your words
So, even though that gray area was much wider in the ranks of the military, I worked hard to restrain my inner monologue when I transitioned to the civilian world. I made a concerted effort to find less offensive ways to express my frustration when circumstances spun out of control. When someone did or said something extraordinarily stupid, I took a deep breath (or ten) before speaking. My better self persevered.
Instead of telling someone to “get your sh*t together,” I would remind them to focus more on their self-development. When tempted to ask, “Why would you do something so f**king stupid?” I would instead query about gaps in their decision-making process. When a subordinate bypassed the defined leadership chain, I resisted the urge to ask, “Who the f**k put you in charge?” And for all the times the only words that came to mind were “What the f**k?” I chose instead to ask people to describe the chain of events that lead the incident in question.
This kinder, gentler version of myself had higher blood pressure, more stress, and a noticeable anger management problem. So, I released the beast. I feel better already, but I think Human Resources has me on speed dial.
