Watch Your Language

OK, I admit it. I swear like a trooper. It wasn't always the case, but at the tender age of 11 I was lucky enough to win a scholarship to public school, Westonbirt, and it was whilst there (before running away!) that I learnt to swear, albeit with a plum in my mouth.

There have been occasions recently when I have had reason to pause for thought in considering the language I use.

As 'plebgate' reached its denouement this week, with the truly shameful admittance by PC Keith Wallis that he had lied in order to obtain the resignation of MP Andrew Mitchell, after he swore in front of police, as a result of not being able to gain entry to Downing Street. Clearly, whatever it was he said, or how it was said, was deemed to have been sufficiently inflammatory to cause someone to seek revenge by lying. Whilst revenge may be sweet, in my own experience it only leads to bitterness.

The other recent incident that caused me to pay more attention to my bad language was when I was reported by a fellow councillor because of the language I was accused of using during a public meeting. My prompt response, on being told of this, was to say 'Whatever it was I'm supposed to have said, it will be true.'

What concerned me most however was that the person concerned, who I made efforts to identify, had not mentioned it to me directly. An alternative agenda maybe?

After much brain racking amongst those that had attended the meeting, it turns out that as far as anyone could recall, I had used the word 'bloody'. Now, if I know anything about myself, it is highly likely that it would have been my rapid response to the application of some daft rule or regulation, and I probably said, 'That's a load of bloody nonsense.'

Depending on your point of view, such comments may or may not have been deemed to be objectionable. However, in the spirit of proffering some level of remorse I contacted the councillor in question to apologise, and was sent away with a flea in my ear, amid comments about lowering the tone of the council by my behaviour. I took it on the chin, but cannot deny that I may have blasphemed under my breath.

The point is, whether or not I felt that my language was inflammatory, someone else did, as is their entitlement.

This has been a salutory lesson to me, to watch my language in future, and to ensure that those on the receiving end are not offended by it. No matter how unreasonably sensitive I feel they may be. When communicating, it is the response of the recipient that counts, every time. Lesson learned, although it will be an uphill battle for me to undo the bad habits of almost 50 years. The last time I tried to give up swearing was for Lent, and it cost me £70.