The Pleasures and Pitfalls of Professional Profanity

In this week’s F&BQ&A I interviewed St. Louis chef Daniel Poss, who has a very naturalistic manner of cussing. For example, he’s fond of the verb construction “to motherfuck” in the sense of really laying into somebody for a problem you have with them, as opposed to literally having intercourse with your own mother or implying some other low individual does the same.

That interview series is meant to be naturalistic and sound like spoken language, so I’m perfectly fine when people curse if it sounds like how they normally talk. We’re all adults here! I personally curse reflexively in the company of friends. But I’m also very attentive to how and when people curse in the presence of strangers or new acquaintances, as it can be quite revealing about personality or personal dynamics—especially in a nominally professional or workplace context.

Note I’m not talking about people cursing at you in a professional or workplace context, which is unacceptable and obviously has a very different emotional payload. Nor is demeaning profanity cool, ever, regardless of whether or not those demeaned are present. And certainly one should respect the perspective of any colleague who is made uncomfortable by profanity.

But I’m focused here on when and how people start cursing conversationally, especially without knowing how their conversational peers feel about it. As opposed to my conversation with Poss, I’ve interviewed people who started cursing right out of the gate, brazenly and boldly. This sometimes is just “how they are” as a person, though I think it’s pretty rare to be quite that oblivious. But even in that case, our society views deploying a full spread of f-bombs in the first five minutes of meeting somebody as a statement of some kind, subconsciously or otherwise.

For my own part, I always think it’s adorable when someone curses around me for the first time to see how I’ll react. I usually offer an encouraging chuckle in response, and if relevant, answer in kind after a suitable interval. This can lead to a profane poker game to level-set our mutual cuss appreciation.

But also, whenever someone first curses in my presence in a non-casual situation, I recalibrate my assessment of their vibe based on an admittedly arbitrary scale of how performative the cursing sounds. Is the profanity a power flex? An attempt to seem cool or connected? Or most generously, is this just how they normally talk and they’re comfortable enough to be real right now?

The weirdest move is when somebody who hasn’t cursed at all in a significant period suddenly starts swearing—and not just once, but a full on blue streak. This happens more often than you’d think in working situations. When that happens, I find myself mentally rewinding the conversation to figure out what switch got flipped, and if I somehow flipped it. Regardless, this move feels very … tactical and inauthentic to say the least.

Perhaps the saddest cursers are those who curse constantly at work, but unimaginatively and repetitively. I’ve had coworkers who rotated through the same small arsenal of profanity on a predictable schedule, completely draining the language of effect. Profanity can certainly be inappropriate, but it may be worse when profanity becomes boring.

I recently met an elderly neighbor on a walk who began cursing after perhaps 90 seconds of conversation. We had never met or, far as I know, even encountered one another. Yet she was very easy with the swears, despite not knowing how I’d react. And her swearing was purely decorative—she wasn’t swearing to vilify other people, or to indicate vehemence or negativity about the trivial and mundane topics du jour. I think she’d just reached an era of living where profanity was part of what I think of in interviewing as conversational furniture.

Now I might hesitate to “put her in front of clients” as the folks down in sales might say. But she would make for a fun interview.

The dynamics of cursing need not get complicated and heavy. You can of course feel free to abstain. I think profanity is a cultural language of connection worth enjoying, if you’re able. But using profanity professionally—and participating in its use by others—requires deft emotional intelligence, just like any work language.