US Congress moves to increase penalties for on-air obscenities
Harold F. Schiffman
haroldfs at ccat.sas.upenn.edu
Tue Sep 20 17:20:53 UTC 2005
>>From the NYTimes,
September 20, 2005
Almost Before We Spoke, We Swore
By NATALIE ANGIER
Incensed by what it sees as a virtual pandemic of verbal vulgarity issuing
from the diverse likes of Howard Stern, Bono of U2 and Robert Novak, the
United States Senate is poised to consider a bill that would sharply
increase the penalty for obscenity on the air. By raising the fines that
would be levied against offending broadcasters some fifteenfold, to a fee
of about $500,000 per crudity broadcast, and by threatening to revoke the
licenses of repeat polluters, the Senate seeks to return to the public
square the gentler tenor of yesteryear, when seldom were heard any
scurrilous words, and famous guys were not foul mouthed all day.
Yet researchers who study the evolution of language and the psychology of
swearing say that they have no idea what mystic model of linguistic
gentility the critics might have in mind. Cursing, they say, is a human
universal. Every language, dialect or patois ever studied, living or dead,
spoken by millions or by a small tribe, turns out to have its share of
forbidden speech, some variant on comedian George Carlin's famous list of
the seven dirty words that are not supposed to be uttered on radio or
television. Young children will memorize the illicit inventory long before
they can grasp its sense, said John McWhorter, a scholar of linguistics at
the Manhattan Institute and the author of "The Power of Babel," and
literary giants have always constructed their art on its spine.
"The Jacobean dramatist Ben Jonson peppered his plays with fackings and
"peremptorie Asses," and Shakespeare could hardly quill a stanza without
inserting profanities of the day like "zounds" or "sblood" - offensive
contractions of "God's wounds" and "God's blood" - or some wondrous sexual
pun. The title "Much Ado About Nothing," Dr. McWhorter said, is a word
play on "Much Ado About an O Thing," the O thing being a reference to
Even the quintessential Good Book abounds in naughty passages like the men
in II Kings 18:27 who, as the comparatively tame King James translation
puts it, "eat their own dung, and drink their own piss." In fact, said Guy
Deutscher, a linguist at the University of Leiden in the Netherlands and
the author of "The Unfolding of Language: An Evolutionary Tour of
Mankind's Greatest Invention," the earliest writings, which date from
5,000 years ago, include their share of off-color descriptions of the
human form and its ever-colorful functions. And the written record is
merely a reflection of an oral tradition that Dr. Deutscher and many other
psychologists and evolutionary linguists suspect dates from the rise of
the human larynx, if not before.
Some researchers are so impressed by the depth and power of strong
language that they are using it as a peephole into the architecture of the
brain, as a means of probing the tangled, cryptic bonds between the newer,
"higher" regions of the brain in charge of intellect, reason and planning,
and the older, more "bestial" neural neighborhoods that give birth to our
emotions. Researchers point out that cursing is often an amalgam of raw,
spontaneous feeling and targeted, gimlet-eyed cunning. When one person
curses at another, they say, the curser rarely spews obscenities and
insults at random, but rather will assess the object of his wrath, and
adjust the content of the "uncontrollable" outburst accordingly.
Because cursing calls on the thinking and feeling pathways of the brain in
roughly equal measure and with handily assessable fervor, scientists say
that by studying the neural circuitry behind it they are gaining new
insights into how the different domains of the brain communicate - and all
for the sake of a well-venomed retort. Other investigators have examined
the physiology of cursing, how our senses and reflexes react to the sound
or sight of an obscene word. They have determined that hearing a curse
elicits a literal rise out of people. When electrodermal wires are placed
on people's arms and fingertips to study their skin conductance patterns
and the subjects then hear a few obscenities spoken clearly and firmly,
participants show signs of instant arousal.
Their skin conductance patterns spike, the hairs on their arms rise, their
pulse quickens, and their breathing becomes shallow. Interestingly, said
Kate Burridge, a professor of linguistics at Monash University in
Melbourne, Australia, a similar reaction occurs among university students
and others who pride themselves on being educated when they listen to bad
grammar or slang expressions that they regard as irritating, illiterate or
dclass. "People can feel very passionate about language," she said, "as
though it were a cherished artifact that must be protected at all cost
against the depravities of barbarians and lexical aliens."
Dr. Burridge and a colleague at Monash, Keith Allan, are the authors of
"Forbidden Words: Taboo and the Censoring of Language," which will be
published early next year by the Cambridge University Press. Researchers
have also found that obscenities can get under one's goosebumped skin and
then refuse to budge. In one study, scientists started with the familiar
Stroop test, in which subjects are flashed a series of words written in
different colors and are asked to react by calling out the colors of the
words rather than the words themselves.
If the subjects see the word "chair" written in yellow letters, they are
supposed to say "yellow." The researchers then inserted a number of
obscenities and vulgarities in the standard lineup. Charting participants'
immediate and delayed responses, the researchers found that, first of all,
people needed significantly more time to trill out the colors of the curse
words than they did for neutral terms like chair. The experience of seeing
titillating text obviously distracted the participants from the
color-coding task at hand. Yet those risqu interpolations left their mark.
In subsequent memory quizzes, not only were participants much better at
recalling the naughty words than they were the neutrals, but that superior
recall also applied to the tints of the tainted words, as well as to their
Yes, it is tough to toil in the shadow of trash. When researchers in
another study asked participants to quickly scan lists of words that
included obscenities and then to recall as many of the words as possible,
the subjects were, once again, best at rehashing the curses - and worst at
summoning up whatever unobjectionable entries happened to precede or
follow the bad bits.
Yet as much as bad language can deliver a jolt, it can help wash away
stress and anger. In some settings, the free flow of foul language may
signal not hostility or social pathology, but harmony and tranquillity.
"Studies show that if you're with a group of close friends, the more
relaxed you are, the more you swear," Dr. Burridge said. "It's a way of
saying: 'I'm so comfortable here I can let off steam. I can say whatever I
Evidence also suggests that cursing can be an effective means of venting
aggression and thereby forestalling physical violence.
With the help of a small army of students and volunteers, Timothy B. Jay,
a professor of psychology at Massachusetts College of Liberal Arts in
North Adams and the author of "Cursing in America" and "Why We Curse," has
explored the dynamics of cursing in great detail.
The investigators have found, among other things, that men generally curse
more than women, unless said women are in a sorority, and that university
provosts swear more than librarians or the staff members of the university
day care center.
Regardless of who is cursing or what the provocation may be, Dr. Jay said,
the rationale for the eruption is often the same.
"Time and again, people have told me that cursing is a coping mechanism
for them, a way of reducing stress," he said in a telephone interview.
"It's a form of anger management that is often underappreciated."
Indeed, chimpanzees engage in what appears to be a kind of cursing match
as a means of venting aggression and avoiding a potentially dangerous
Frans de Waal, a professor of primate behavior at Emory University in
Atlanta, said that when chimpanzees were angry "they will grunt or spit or
make an abrupt, upsweeping gesture that, if a human were to do it, you'd
recognize it as aggressive."
Such behaviors are threat gestures, Professor de Waal said, and they are
all a good sign.
"A chimpanzee who is really gearing up for a fight doesn't waste time with
gestures, but just goes ahead and attacks," he added.
By the same token, he said, nothing is more deadly than a person who is
too enraged for expletives - who cleanly and quietly picks up a gun and
Researchers have also examined how words attain the status of forbidden
speech and how the evolution of coarse language affects the smoother
sheets of civil discourse stacked above it. They have found that what
counts as taboo language in a given culture is often a mirror into that
culture's fears and fixations.
"In some cultures, swear words are drawn mainly from sex and bodily
functions, whereas in others, they're drawn mainly from the domain of
religion," Dr. Deutscher said.
In societies where the purity and honor of women is of paramount
importance, he said, "it's not surprising that many swear words are
variations on the 'son of a whore' theme or refer graphically to the
genitalia of the person's mother or sisters."
The very concept of a swear word or an oath originates from the profound
importance that ancient cultures placed on swearing by the name of a god
or gods. In ancient Babylon, swearing by the name of a god was meant to
give absolute certainty against lying, Dr. Deutscher said, "and people
believed that swearing falsely by a god would bring the terrible wrath of
that god upon them." A warning against any abuse of the sacred oath is
reflected in the biblical commandment that one must not "take the Lord's
name in vain," and even today courtroom witnesses swear on the Bible that
they are telling the whole truth and nothing but.
Among Christians, the stricture against taking the Lord's name in vain
extended to casual allusions to God's son or the son's corporeal
sufferings - no mention of the blood or the wounds or the body, and that
goes for clever contractions, too. Nowadays, the phrase, "Oh, golly!" may
be considered almost comically wholesome, but it was not always so.
"Golly" is a compaction of "God's body" and, thus, was once a profanity.
Yet neither biblical commandment nor the most zealous Victorian censor can
elide from the human mind its hand-wringing over the unruly human body,
its chronic, embarrassing demands and its sad decay. Discomfort over body
functions never sleeps, Dr. Burridge said, and the need for an ever-fresh
selection of euphemisms about dirty subjects has long served as an
impressive engine of linguistic invention.
Once a word becomes too closely associated with a specific body function,
she said, once it becomes too evocative of what should not be evoked, it
starts to enter the realm of the taboo and must be replaced by a new,
For example, the word "toilet" stems from the French word for "little
towel" and was originally a pleasantly indirect way of referring to the
place where the chamber pot or its equivalent resides. But toilet has
since come to mean the porcelain fixture itself, and so sounds too blunt
to use in polite company. Instead, you ask your tuxedoed waiter for
directions to the ladies' room or the restroom or, if you must, the
Similarly, the word "coffin" originally meant an ordinary box, but once it
became associated with death, that was it for a "shoe coffin" or "thinking
outside the coffin." The taboo sense of a word, Dr. Burridge said, "always
drives out any other senses it might have had."
Scientists have lately sought to map the neural topography of forbidden
speech by studying Tourette's patients who suffer from coprolalia, the
pathological and uncontrollable urge to curse. Tourette's syndrome is a
neurological disorder of unknown origin characterized predominantly by
chronic motor and vocal tics, a constant grimacing or pushing of one's
glasses up the bridge of one's nose or emitting a stream of small yips or
Just a small percentage of Tourette's patients have coprolalia - estimates
range from 8 to 30 percent - and patient advocates are dismayed by popular
portrayals of Tourette's as a humorous and invariably scatological
condition. But for those who do have coprolalia, said Dr. Carlos Singer,
director of the division of movement disorders at the University of Miami
School of Medicine, the symptom is often the most devastating and
humiliating aspect of their condition.
Not only can it be shocking to people to hear a loud volley of expletives
erupt for no apparent reason, sometimes from the mouth of a child or young
teenager, but the curses can also be provocative and personal, florid
slurs against the race, sexual identity or body size of a passer-by, for
example, or deliberate and repeated lewd references to an old lover's name
while in the arms of a current partner or spouse.
Reporting in The Archives of General Psychiatry, Dr. David A. Silbersweig,
a director of neuropsychiatry and neuroimaging at the Weill Medical
College of Cornell University, and his colleagues described their use of
PET scans to measure cerebral blood flow and identify which regions of the
brain are galvanized in Tourette's patients during episodes of tics and
They found strong activation of the basal ganglia, a quartet of neuron
clusters deep in the forebrain at roughly the level of the mid-forehead,
that are known to help coordinate body movement along with activation of
crucial regions of the left rear forebrain that participate in
comprehending and generating speech, most notably Broca's area.
The researchers also saw arousal of neural circuits that interact with the
limbic system, the wishbone-shape throne of human emotions, and,
significantly, of the "executive" realms of the brain, where decisions to
act or desist from acting may be carried out: the neural source,
scientists said, of whatever conscience, civility or free will humans can
That the brain's executive overseer is ablaze in an outburst of
coprolalia, Dr. Silbersweig said, demonstrates how complex an act the urge
to speak the unspeakable may be, and not only in the case of Tourette's.
The person is gripped by a desire to curse, to voice something wildly
inappropriate. Higher-order linguistic circuits are tapped, to contrive
the content of the curse. The brain's impulse control center struggles to
short-circuit the collusion between limbic system urge and neocortical
craft, and it may succeed for a time.
Yet the urge mounts, until at last the speech pathways fire, the verboten
is spoken, and archaic and refined brains alike must shoulder the blame.
Copyright 2005 The New York Times Company
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