It’s f—ing time to let TV news anchors swear. Our ears can handle it.

There was a time when bad language was banned on TV news.
Peter Mansbridge never started “The National” with: “Good evening. We begin with a f—ked up story.” The news was polite. The news was scared to sound like Chris Rock in “Never Scared.” Now the news is getting more street.
I’ve heard anchors say “s—t” this year more than in all my previous years combined. “Asshole” has raised its head. This year, a BBC presenter blurted out “c—t” on air.
Language is always evolving and we definitely live in saltier times. A recent survey from WordTips ranked countries that swear the most based on a tweet analysis. Granted, a flawed methodology since everyone on X now sounds like a drunken sailor. But for what it’s worth, the Top 10 nations in cussing order are: United States, United Kingdom, Australia, New Zealand, Canada, Mexico, Jamaica, Colombia, Dominican Republic and Egypt.
(Canada would have ranked higher if researchers analyzed question period.)
The point is swearing is not the taboo it once was in polite society. Pop culture is front-loaded with more profanities than ever before. The streaming services don’t even bother to slap a “Contains Coarse Language” warning on shows because they all have coarse language.
Swearing is no longer limited to road rage. Musicians swear. Athletes swear. Actors swear. Cops swear. Teachers swear. A lovely clerk at Sobeys recently mumbled the F-bomb in frustration while struggling to scan the barcode on my Caesar salad.
I wasn’t offended. What was the poor woman to say? Crouton?
A story in the Washington Post this week wondered, “Why the #&@% are candidates swearing so much these days?” I can answer the #&@% out of that. Politicians are swearing because constituents are swearing. Everyone is swearing. A few weeks ago, fans of Donald Trump — at a church event with children in the pews — started chanting, “Bulls—t!”
I have argued with my overlords over the years to stop dashing out expletives. They tell me to do something anatomically impossible and I drop it. But I’m sorry, this idea of a “family newspaper” is outdated. Even if the kids are reading, they won’t be scandalized by a vulgarity that is already in high rotation on TikTok or Instagram.
Eventually, a baby’s first words will be, “Where the $%@! is my bottle?”
So here’s my argument: it is time to unshackle our broadcasters and let them go blue at their discretion. Scrap the decency whims. Remove the prudish regulations and double standards. Let them speak freely.
George Carlin’s “Seven Words You Can’t Say on TV” are now said everywhere.
Again, discretion is the key. I’m not sure how I might feel about tuning into the Weather Network to hear a meteorologist say, “Don’t forget the sunscreen. Today will be a motherf—ker.” But I’ll get over it. It might even make me smile.
With all the grim news in the world, swearing is a release valve. Multiple studies have found that cursing is linked to higher intelligence and creativity. Man alive, you should have heard the smut flying out of Thomas Edison’s mouth in the back of that horse carriage.
Swearing can also do wonders for circulation and pain tolerance. When you stub your toe, this is why your brain doesn’t reflexively go with, “Fudge!”
So greenlight the profanities for the anchors. Let them swear. When the red hats spread fake tales about how immigrants are feasting on cats and dogs, I want Wolf Blitzer to stare into the camera and sound like a Quentin Tarantino character: “These lunatics are f—king idiots. F—k you, Donald Trump, for poisoning millions of minds with your bulls—t conspiracies and goddamn lies. F—k you, FCC. And if you are watching in Canada, f—k you, CRTC. This is the Situation Room and I’m Wolf f—king Blitzer, bitches!”
CNN’s ratings would quadruple overnight.
It’s not fair right now. Broadcast news is under siege by independent media. But podcasters are not held to the same rules. The swearing I hear just on political shows is effing bananas. Podcasters speak in the popular lexicon. Broadcasters speak like robots designed in the 1950s that were inspired by Pope Pius XII.
Let them say what they are really thinking. Our ears can handle it.
There is no style guide for social media. Users can pretty much type whatever they want. An X user is not held to the same standards as the on-air talent at CBC. Ian Hanomansing is blessed with the silky baritone of a Greek god who flies around on a trident. Do you know how effective that voice could be if he could occasionally punctuate his newscasts with language you’d only expect to hear when a masked bandit is knocking over a 7-Eleven?
It’s time to embrace the $%@! future.
The talking heads delivering bad news deserve bad words.