Stephen Tuffin writes:

When I was a kid, swearing was taboo – except for that one time when my dad, a hulking great navvy of a man, took me down the yard where they kept all the equipment road workers used out on the roads, and I witnessed the cutting down of a tree. An elm, I am reliably told. At home, that evening, sat on the kitchen table of our council house, my mum scrubbing my hands and face, she asked, what I’d done that day. Fortunately, I’d overheard the ganger-man tell my dad exactly what the day’s work would entail.

“We cut down a f***ing great tree,” I said.

At any other time I’d have been threatened with having my mouth washed out with soap and water, but not this time. This time I got away with a “it’s not nice saying that word” from my mum and a snigger from my dad.

Now, it turns out, such attempts to stop us using the F word was misguided. Researchers have discovered that swearing when in pain or making a titanic effort to lift something, relieves discomfort and increases strength. It’s great for anxiety and tension, too.

But secretly I already knew this to be the case. No one can tell me that there’s a better word than the F-word for relieving pain after stubbing your bare toe on the leg of your bed. There just isn’t. I’ve tried using, “Blast!” and, “Confound it all!” – but they just don’t cut it. [Continue reading…]