In the last few weeks, there's been some controversy in the US over 'fleeting expletives' on network broadcasts as a case between the FCC and Fox television went before the Supreme Court on election day. Basically, Cher and Nicole Richie used the f-word and s-word at awards ceremonies, and the FCC cracked down.
The specifics of the case can be found here, but this issue got me thinking about swearing in general and why we give certain words so much power. In a previous case, the court made note of the "sexual or excretory" meanings of these words. But if Richie had said "crap" or Cher had said of her critics, "have sex with 'em," would anyone really be that upset? I imagine the critics would be somewhat grateful. Is it really the meaning of the words that makes them 'bad?'
I remember the first time I saw the f-word. It was carved into the bathroom stall at a family restaurant. That's funny, I thought. I'll have to ask my father what that means. With some sort of childish prescience, I realized before asking that this was not the best idea.
I imagine nowadays a kid might just google it. For me it was a slower process, but of course, soon the other kids at school answered any questions I had. By the time I reached the age of twelve, I was already an old hand at casual swearing.
I remember in Junior High I had particular trouble because our school's principal was only as tall as most of the students. At school, of course, if you never swear you run the risk of being uncool. But if you swear in front of teachers or principals, you run the much greater risk of detention. Our principal would blend into a crowd, and several times I found my friends stifling laughter just after I'd sworn up a storm. I would turn around, and there would be Mr. Anderson, and I would slink back meekly, hoping he hadn't heard (I think now that he must have heard me but didn't particularly care).
My father, for many years, still tried to shield me from swearing. I remember at one point he had me watch the movie Slapstick with him, and he tried to mute every curse. Of course, since he hadn't seen the movie in years, he inevitably failed to catch the right words in time and instead muted whatever came directly afterwards, thereby making my recollection of the film a string of curses, silence, and fast-forwarded sex-scenes.
For some reason, though, I swear cautiously even now (note my language in this post). I don't mind the words. In fact, I quite like them (though the casual use of the c-word here in the UK still makes me cringe). But years of dodging principals and parents has created a layout of words in my head, and the f-word is still locked in its own secret chamber.
It seems to me that shielding children from these words is a war of attrition. And the subjects the words talk about are like-wise going to be exposed sooner or later (after all, every living creature is aware of excretion, even if they can't say the s-word). But there might still be some use to keeping these words locked up. If nothing else, it grants the words more power than they would otherwise have (consider that a 'curse' is also a magical thing, a spell in which words can control a person's fate).
Recently, comic Frank Skinner decided to pare back the use of swear words in his set. And he found that it only heightened the effect of those jokes in which he did use the f-word.