Something has shifted. Following the 2016 presidential election, women across the country felt compelled to make noise. We poured into the streets in massive demonstrations. We cast our votes in record numbers. Quiet murmurs transformed into open defiance. We weren't doing it for "attention"; we were doing it for advancement. In "Fired Up," ELLE.com examines women's fury—and the path forward.
Profanity carries weight. It functions as a genuine pain reliever. It can communicate our highest peaks of excitement ("Fuck yeah!") along with our deepest disappointments ("Oh, shit…") Crude language grabs focus, and in certain environments, even garners a measure of admiration. For instance, research indicates that profanity is perceived as evidence of genuineness, truthfulness, and passion. However—and this is a substantial however—that dynamic only holds true when you are male. If you are female? Profanity becomes the tool that could easily turn against you. Consider Victoria Fierce, who received a twelve-hour "Twitter suspension" for directing Vice President Mike Pence to "fuck off" following the reversal of safeguards for transgender students. Or Rose McGowan, who faced suspension after expressing identical rage toward Ben Affleck. Yet examine the comments under virtually any prominent woman and you will find abundant gendered insults that apparently bring no consequences to their (male) authors.
This gendered split in how profanity is evaluated was documented in a 2001 study by Dr. Robert O'Neill at Louisiana State University. 377 participants were instructed to evaluate instances of profanity for how offensive they were. Present individuals with a written "transcript" featuring some profanity and, if they are informed the speaker is female, they evaluate her as feeble and repulsive. Male speakers, conversely, are viewed as more energetic, and equally appealing as though they had refrained from profanity entirely. It makes no difference whether you poll men or women; we have all been conditioned to accept that male profanity is standard, whereas female profanity represents some sort of failure. It simply isn't "refined" to curse.
This notion is relatively modern, measured against the timeline of human communication, yet it has persisted for centuries. In 1673, clergyman Richard Allestree released The Ladies' Calling—a deeply sexist volume that promoted the stereotype of the gossiping, chattering woman—and declared with certainty that "no noise on this side of Hell can be more amazingly odious" than a woman using profanity.
While conducting research for my book Swearing Is Good for You, a scientific examination of the force of profanity, I absolutely encountered this double standard. A female scientist investigating profanity? I still receive questions about whether I am bothered by the topic I voluntarily chose to dedicate my time to. I am not bothered—I am fucking incensed that these contradictory beliefs, fabricated by men like Allestree more than four centuries ago, continue to corrupt how we communicate. And I believe that to combat this, women must assert our entitlement to potent vocabulary, powerful concepts, and intense emotions.
You might question why this even carries significance. Isn't profanity merely an indicator of limited intellect, a depleted lexicon? Can't women simply adopt some legendary elevated approach, and articulate ourselves even more skillfully without profanity? Well, in reality, there are numerous reasons why that simply cannot succeed—and is fundamentally unjust.
To begin with, we recognize that profanity operates entirely differently from the remainder of our vocabulary. It produces an effect on our minds and physical selves that no other words achieve. Profanity aids in reducing pain—if you curse while submerging your hand in ice water, you can maintain it there approximately fifty percent longer than you could if you remained silent. But substitute that profanity with "fudge" or "sugar," and the pain-reducing benefit disappears. You cannot obtain that endurance with a polite substitute.
Furthermore, profanity has foundations that extend broadly and deeply within our brains in a manner that no other language does. Even following a stroke that eliminates virtually every structure enabling us to employ language, profanity frequently survives. It is the language that emerges when alternative vocabulary abandons us, and it is the language most likely to endure past the cognitive deterioration of aging. Consequently, profanity carries a rhetorical force that no other words possess. When I curse, I am communicating directly with your emotions. Yet women continue to be disproportionately pressured to constrain our vocabulary out of concern for giving offense.
Against common belief, profanity also genuinely is not the fallback of an impoverished intellect. Studies demonstrate that individuals with the broadest vocabularies are likewise those most inclined to deploy profanity with skill and precision. Profanity serves as the blade in the rhetorical toolkit—it can be employed with remarkably exacting results. For instance, Professor Janet Holmes of the University of Wellington, New Zealand, once patiently took the time to clarify for me the distinction between "not fucking likely" versus "not FUCKING likely" (the former conveys an irritated rejection; the latter suggests a defeated resignation) in the manner only a linguistics professor could.
Profanity serves as a communicative instrument, and we deserve to wield it. And that is partly because unequal standards regarding female profanity will only shift if we confront them. The emotional impact of profanity is not inherent—we acquire what is and is not appropriate as we mature through the responses of those around us. Harmful perspectives toward women's profanity—and toward women's anger—will never evolve while "politeness" remains the expectation.
During my research for the book, I encountered several individuals who insisted that profanity is a plague on civilization. I observed that every single one of those individuals possessed the luxury of presuming they would be heard without ever needing to amplify their voices. It is simple to advocate for civil discourse when you automatically anticipate respect. Requesting others to suppress their rage under the guise of civility is simply another method, deliberate or otherwise, of preserving the arena tilted in your direction.
Women's profanity, similar to women's anger, appears to frighten and confound. That explains papers bearing titles such as "Why Do Women Swear?" yet no one has ever assembled a scientific investigation to comprehend why men do. We can leverage this to our benefit—reclaim profanity, as we have reclaimed "nasty woman." That may not feel simple; even when we are enraged by an injustice, apoplectic about an abuse, it can still feel awkward to curse, because profanity demands attention. Profanity declares: My experience and my emotions are significant and you will acknowledge me. The world is unaccustomed to us articulating our fury in unambiguous terms. We are unaccustomed to it.
Well, fuck that—the moment has arrived.
elle.com
