Julia de Bres is associate professor in Linguistics at Massey University/Te Kunenga ki Pūrehuroa. She regularly appears on RNZ talking about language
This story (obviously) contains strong language and many uses of the C-word.
OPINION: Last week, journalist Andrea Vance used the swear word cunt (or c… as it was spelt in print) to refer to six female government ministers, in the wake of the government’s explosive pay equity policy changes.
National deputy leader and finance minister Nicola Willis objected to the accusation of being a cunt and doing ‘girl math’ in the same week, interpreting both as ‘sexist slurs’, while today workplace relations minister and ACT MP Brooke van Velden became the first MP to use the word in parliament when she too denounced the “clearly gendered and patronising language” in the column.
Linguistically, a swear word is simply a word that has the capacity to offend. Swear words generally originate from taboo subjects, which in English often involve bodily excretions and sexual behaviour. When applied to specific groups, women in this case, they can also be termed slurs.
Historically, layers of misogyny are built into referring to a woman as a cunt. Referring to someone by their genitals is sexualising and reducing someone to one of their body parts is often objectifying and dehumanising. Gendered insults made towards women often hit harder than those made towards men because of the broader context of sexism women still labour under (consider, for example, the different rhetorical effect of ‘cunt’ versus ‘dick’).
When women use gendered insults on each other it can also carry an extra sting, if it is received as reflecting internalised misogyny and in-group violence.
All this may be true in relation to the word cunt – and historical origins do stick around – but contemporary context plays a big role too. Is the word as negatively loaded as it used to be?
In Aotearoa, the Broadcasting Standards Authority undertakes regular surveys to determine what is acceptable to the public when it comes to potentially offensive language in the media. The last time they did this, they looked at changes in public views on offensive language between 2018 and 2022, surveying 1500 people’s responses to 31 potentially offensive words, both swear words (such as the F-word) and slurs targeting specific groups (such as the N-word, C-word, and R-word). They found that audiences were becoming more relaxed about many swear words, including the F-word, but were less tolerant of racial or cultural slurs.
There were also differences between groups. Men were more accepting of offensive language than women. Younger people were more accepting of offensive language than older people, but younger people had less tolerance for words relating to gender or sexual orientation than older people. Pacific people were least accepting of offensive language, and Māori were most likely to find racial and gender-based terms unacceptable.
The survey ranked cunt as the second most unacceptable word, with the most unacceptable being the N-word. These were also the two most unacceptable words in the two previous surveys in 2013 and 2018.
Not much evidence of change, then, but the report does note that cunt had declined in perceived offensiveness by 6 percent since the last survey.
Also relevant here is the phenomenon of groups reclaiming terms once directed towards them as slurs. ‘Queer’ is a clear example of this. Once used as a slur towards gay men, it is now accepted by almost every young queer New Zealander I know as a highly positive identity term. Once uncomfortable with it, I now happily use it for myself.
Another local example is the recent media furore over Green MP Benjamin Doyle’s use of the term ‘bussy’ on their personal Instagram page. While (politically motivated) detractors leapt immediately to the dictionary definition of this word and expressed great offence, Doyle provided their own explanation of what it means to them: “‘Bussy galore’ is an in-joke and a nickname. The translation here is ‘me at large living my best life’”. This does not sound offensive to me.
Maybe in the sex-positive, intersectional feminist times we’re living in, cunt is travelling down this road too?
I’ll admit I’m not there yet with cunt. But before making up my own mind, I’d like to know more about how Gen Z women feel about this word.
We all have the right to choose what offends us, but just because it offends us doesn’t mean it’s offensive overall. When encountering a swear word that shocks us, we would be well advised to look a bit closer at how others react to the word, particularly those to whom it might be applied. And the best place to look for contemporary meanings of language is young people, who will be leading language change.
If you continue to find cunt offensive – and, honestly, you do you – you might also do well to reflect on what exactly it is that is offending you. The use of swear words is intended to shock. That’s the whole point of them, and they wouldn’t be very effective otherwise. I’m sure the journalist who called these ministers cunts intended for them to feel the force of her anger via her choice of this word. But when we really get down to it, I would like to think all women can agree that cancelling pay equity claims under urgency is much more offensive towards women – to gravely understate it – than using the C-word.
What is more, in the same week that saw a surge of outrage about the use of cunt to refer to women in government, one of them – Judith Collins – described the use of the haka in parliament as showing a ‘lack of civility’. Calling a time-honoured Indigenous cultural and linguistic practice uncivil, in the same year that your coalition government has launched a full-scale attack on Māori rights, language and culture? Now that’s offensive. One might even say cuntish.
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