I learned a lot during my undergraduate years at UCLA so long ago. I learned about Egyptian art, anthropology and how to swear. Can’t remember the difference between Upper and Lower Egypt or which tribes in the Amazon lived in trees, but I sure do remember how to swear.
Most of the time, I don’t even realize I’ve let loose with a “naughty” word. And I don’t bat an eye when others do either. I made a dear friend during my time in Montreal when she said “f**k me “ and I evidently just kept the conversation going. She was so charmed that she declared us instant BFFs.
As a therapist, this has been a double edged sword. I have had to actually be attentive to my language and really try not to swear in session with clients. I always apologize when I inevitably slip up. However, no one has ever been shocked and, oddly, new clients often respond with laughter and say something along the lines of “We’re going to get along great.”
My Master of Social Work professors would be turning in their graves if they were dead. Profanity as an element of my professional identity? A therapeutic bonding tool? Isn’t there something in the 500 pages of social work ethics prohibiting this? We are not even supposed to stay in a room with someone who tells non-PC jokes. (Try living with a comedy writer and obeying THAT one ….but I digress.)
Imagine my surprise when I saw an article on January 13, 2018 in the Wall Street Journal about a new book called — wait for it — “Swearing is Good for You” by Dr Emma Byrne.
Dr Byrne posits that swearing has benefits. It’s even been officially studied with money from, one presumes, grants. Richard Stephens at Keele University in Staffordshire, England has studied subjects whose ability to tolerate pain improved if they swore. There is a scientific reason we say, “F**k, G D it, S**t when we drop a pot on our foot. It doesn’t hurt as much! And swimmers can tolerate colder water when they swear. Dr Stephens says it helps all kinds of people in all kinds of situations — people who swear freely and those who report they don’t. Everyone’s pain is alleviated. Dr Bryne reports that Stephens said it “works through our emotions, heightening confidence, increasing aggression and making us more resilient.”
The best part is that it has to be the real thing — coy euphemisms like “Sugar” or “Oh drat” just don’t work like a rousing “SHIT!.”
Emotional pain is lessened too! A study in Australia found that 70 volunteers, over half of them men, felt the painful memory of being excluded from a group reduced. I thought listening to Joni Mitchell albums and crying did that. I should have sworn more. No wonder my clients swear so much too.
And then, it turns out that my swearing with (not AT) clients is, in fact, bonding. Dr Byrne says that “risking a swear word in a new social group is an important barometer of how much we believe that our good intentions are accepted. We tend to swear among those we trust and it can help to create trust.”
I think I’m onto something. Maybe I should start giving workshops? Or apply for some grant money? Workshop title suggestions welcome.
Dr Emma Byrne’s book, “Swearing is Good for You” will be published on January 23, 2018 by W.W. Norton