The Eloquence of Profanity

In my growing up years, I sometimes used profanity. My subconscious intent was to seem more mature. Strangely, my cussing occurred more often in casual conversation than in hammer-hitting-finger events. Later, I began to question my casual profanity. With age, I became more mature—albeit unwillingly. Meanwhile, my professional career increased the need for eloquence, simply defined as clear and effective speech.

Don’t we all want our speech to be clear and effective? If so, does profanity promote such eloquence?

Consider the following clause, which I uttered one day after forgetting to apply my car’s parking brake: “… and my damn car started rolling down the hill.” Here, the word “damn” is an adjective, a part of speech used to describe something, in this case: my car. But what does the adjective, damn, tell you about my car? Nothing. Instead, it’s a flimsy filler word or phrase—like “uh” or “you know”—employed by lazy or inarticulate speakers. If cuss words provide no clarity, why use them?

Aside from lacking clarity, profanity can annoy— and perhaps offend— many listeners. If eloquence is effective speaking, how effective is speech which annoys or offends?

The Bible records Paul, the apostle, saying “Let nothing foul or dirty come out of your mouth. Say only what helps, each word a gift.” (Ephesians 4:29 MSG) Words which help and constitute a gift are effective in positive ways. By being effective, they are eloquent. Profanity isn’t, and I try to avoid it.