In the land of the free, in a building with a wall that depicts the words of the First Amendment to remind us of our rights to express ourselves freely through speech, religion, assembly and the press, shouldn’t we be allowed to say just a couple bad words?

“Don’t say that, honey. That’s a bad word. Now Mommy has to wash your mouth out with soap.” Sound familiar, anyone? Going off to college might mean you’re finally old enough (not to mention far away enough from home from angry mothers armed with soap) to let a bad word slip out every now and then, but it doesn’t mean you should. Foul language demeans the people who speak it and offends the innocent ears that hear it. It gets students in trouble and newspaper editors fired. But why?

If a student peppers a persuasive paper with strong, offensive language to emphasize an argument, it weakens the strength of that argument. But if a teacher sprinkles a few expletives into a lecture, it captures students’ attention and instantly labels the teacher as “cool” (although the “cool” label is often closely tied to lower levels of ascribed respect). And if we here at The Lumberjack were to publish all the foul language I have alluded to, we’d probably lose a lot of clients (and someone might even get fired).

In the land of the free, in a building with a wall that depicts the words of the First Amendment to remind us of our rights to express ourselves freely through speech, religion, assembly and the press, shouldn’t we be allowed to say just a couple bad words?  

Bad words, curse words, swear words, cuss words — they’re all the same, and they’re all harmless. Words, even the bad ones, are still just words; until we give them weighted meaning, they are only combinations of letters. The word “unicorn” could just as easily refer to a type of cheese instead of a magical one-horned horse if someone had decided to attach the word’s meaning that way. If cavemen had insulted each other by making grunting sounds that had sounded just a little differently, then the list of forbidden offensive words would be entirely different. 

What makes certain words more offensive than others? Why can I say, “gosh,” but shouting, “god” is not okay? Why is “shoot” completely acceptable, while “s—” will get a fourth-grader sent straight to the principal’s office? Is there really any difference between “darn it” and “damn it” other than the morphing of an “r” into an “m”? 

On the surface, the answer to all these questions seems simple: bad words are bad because they mean bad things. Curse words are designated as such because of what they imply — cursing.

It is understandable for people to desire to restrict such speech in a learning environment, but after further examination, these explanations just don’t make any sense. Sure, bad words are offensive, but the words that replace the bad words — darn, shoot, biotch, heck, frick — the ones The Lumberjack is clearly allowed to print and you are likely allowed to say in front of your parents, mean the same thing as the words they replace. So, theoretically, those replacement words should be equally offensive.

If the less harsh replacement curse words mean the same thing as the real ones, then what is it that makes “damn” so bad to say? Nothing. The extra hump between an “m” and an “r” — the only difference between “damn” and “darn” — holds no offensive value. If it did, we could insult people by simply shouting letters; and as fun as that would be, we all know it’s not the case. 

Words are only words until we give them meaning. So, if speaking certain words is going to be punishable, the meaning of those words must be clear. Until we can establish that link between bad words, their meanings and punishment for their mention, confused people will continue to be offended, restricted and have their mouths washed out with soap (or Tabasco, depending on the mom). Welcome to the English language, friends.