
Americans rudest on the internet
For the Australian duo behind the research, it came as a surprise that the inhabitants of their own country did not lead the way, such is the stereotype that Aussies are easy-going and relaxed, in actions and words.
But Australians were only the third-most likely citizens to drop a swear word in conversation online.
The reason that America — viewed by some to be a more conservative and polite culture among English-speakers — is the most profane community online may be the anonymity of the screen, according to the study's co-author Martin Schweinberger, a linguist at the University of Queensland, Australia.
"Especially when you're not tied to what you write with your name, for example," said Schweinberger. "There are also cultural differences on what is allowed in social situations."
"Different cultures have different norms on when and what is permitted. It seems as if the Americans, basically, are more forgiving online," he said.
Billions of words
Schweinberger and collaborating linguist Kate Burridge evaluated 1.7 billion words used in online news stories, company websites, institutional publications, blogs and other web sources, across 20 English-speaking regions.
From these sources, they created a list of around 600 obscenities, including modified words and abbreviations, like "WTF", and dozens of variations of the "F" and "C" words and other vulgarities.
They then analysed how frequently those vulgarities appeared in the documents they had found online.
In their results, Americans topped the list with a curse word appearing 0.036 per cent of the time. That is equivalent to 36 curse words in a 100,000-word text.
The British were next, with 25 curses per 100,000 words. Then the Aussies with 22, Singaporeans with 21 and New Zealanders with 20.
Bangladeshis are the politest among English-speakers — just seven vulgarities per 100,000 words.
Polite in the real world
While a broad range of internet sources were used for the study, social media was excluded from the dataset.
That was done deliberately, said Schweinberger, because social platforms require more "weeding" of material that is not suitable for analysis.
However, he said they have analysed the use of vulgarities on social media — compared to face-to-face interactions — in a separate study.
The results, which have yet to be published, are quite different: On social media, New Zealanders top the list, ahead of the Irish and Australians, said Schweinberger.
And in face-to-face interactions, the American stereotype for conservatism is evident. "Face-to-face, the Americans are way down the list," Schweinberger said. "But social media basically had the same pattern that we find in general online data."
Swearing culture
For linguists, a data-rich analysis of the use of language online provides insight into how humans behave and interact.
Andrea Calude, a linguist at the University of Waikato, New Zealand, who was not involved in the study, said it was important to have a scientific approach to how words are used.
"Sometimes you think you know things which you don't, so you have to look at [the] data," said Calude. "We think of English as one thing — one language — but look at how different English [is used] around the world," Calude said.
In particular, the context in which speakers use vulgarity is a useful way to help non-native speakers integrate into a new environment.
"Even in this connected world, we each have our own idiosyncratic way of speaking locally," said Calude. "If you break those patterns, you identify yourself as not one of the locals. It speaks to this idea that there are local communities, even when you have a globalised world."
Schweinberger, who hails from Germany, knows it from personal experience. He once used vulgarity in the company of American colleagues and said he "could see their faces shift completely, as if I'd said something really horrible. I just wasn't aware of these cultural constraints."
Analysing vulgarity, he said, was not only a valuable tool for linguists but for people in all walks of life.
"When we think of these bad words or bad language, it's not that you need to avoid it, it's to learn when to use it appropriately," Schweinberger said, "and then it can be really effective for improving your communication style and skills."
Hashtags

Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles


Express Tribune
28-07-2025
- Express Tribune
The language dilemma!
People of Pakistan has a love-hate relationship with the English language, more like a 'can't live with it, can't live without it' scenario. From making fun of cricketers' broken English to mothers restricting their kids to only speak in English, we as a society are obsessed with the language. The reason can be traced to our colonial past, but the language's importance cannot be denied. It serves as lingua franca in today's globalised world. Maybe that is the reason it is the medium of instruction in a majority of Pakistani schools. But in a country where over 70 languages are spoken, it gets hard for the kids to navigate their semantics when they speak in their mother tongues at home, converse in Urdu with their teachers, and read their textbooks in English. That is why, the narrative of instruction in vernacular languages is catching on in the policy discourse. There is a growing strand of evidence in the form of studies and interventions to support the premise. There have been multiple studies in Africa and India where instruction in native languages have resulted in enhanced understanding among learners. Hence, it is safe to state here that this approach isn't just theory. Research by Unesco and renowned education experts supports the idea that when kids understand what's being taught, they're more likely to retain that information, develop critical thinking, and perform better academically. Moreover, it's not just about academics. Teaching kids in their own language boosts their self-esteem and helps them feel more connected to their culture. And we know how powerful that sense of belonging is when it comes to motivation and engagement in school. After all, the primary objective of sending children off to schools is learning. It is more important to learn the concepts of Math well than to learn it in English. But introducing native languages as medium of instruction also comes with challenges. First and foremost, it's not a silver bullet. A small yet prevalent strand of literature also provides evidence that teacher's training, administrative issues, and quality of learning materials (primarily textbooks) plays a bigger role in effective inculcation of knowledge. An even bigger catch is many areas of Pakistan are a melting pot of languages. Several schools are catering to students with different ethnic backgrounds and migrant families. A student in Mirkot may come from a Punjabi or Baloch family and another one in Bahawalpur may hail from Sindh. Urdu may work as a bridge in such scenarios but local languages may not cut it. So, the primary focus while shifting to vernaculars should be inclusivity. Then comes a major concern: preparing these students for the market. Many students would enter a job market that doesn't cater to native languages. Even before that, these students would be entering universities and studying courses developed in English. At this stage, they should be prepared well to undergo such major transition. Besides, we are heading to gig economy where jobs would be transcending the national boundaries. Even currently, this model is prevailing in Pakistan where freelancers are working for international clients. Effective communication is an integral requirement of this ecosystem, which would obviously occur in lingua franca. Therefore, the importance of learning English cannot be denied. We need to find the balance between imparting knowledge effectively to young learners and ensuring they are ready for the market when they graduate. And that balance is effective transition from vernacular at elementary level to English at higher education. However, it wouldn't be that simple to implement. The schools will need skilled teachers to make this transition effective. Moreover, the curriculum has to be designed while keeping in view the needs of the students who have studied English only as a subject before. The transition has to be gradual rather than swift to give learners time to acclimate. All this is possible only with skilled teachers and quality learning materials. To ensure that the teachers are adequately skilled, proper trainings and ensuring higher degree criteria for higher education levels is crucial. Instead of a sudden, dramatic switch to English in the classroom, we should think of education as a journey. A gradual shift from vernacular languages at the elementary level to English in the later years of schooling is the smartest way to approach this. This isn't a new idea. Countries like Finland and Singapore have done it. In Finland, students are taught in both Finnish and Swedish from an early age, ensuring they are comfortable in multiple languages. Similarly, in Singapore, students are taught in their mother tongue while also learning English, which has helped the country's youth thrive in a bilingual world. The key to this approach is ensuring that students become proficient in both languages. English, as a subject, should be integrated early on so that by the time students reach high school, they are not only familiar with the language but comfortable using it to learn complex subjects. In the end, it's not about choosing one language over the other. It's about finding a balance, giving children a strong foundation in their mother tongue while also preparing them for a future where English is a critical skill. The solution lies in a gradual transition, starting with vernacular languages at the elementary level, then slowly incorporating English as a subject. By the time students reach higher education, they'll be ready to thrive in an English-medium environment, equipped with skills. Let's start this journey now.


Express Tribune
24-07-2025
- Express Tribune
Project to promote remote education
In a bid to boost literacy in rural and hilly regions, the Education Department has announced the launch of "School on Wheels" and "Library on Wheels" projects, with Rs500 million allocated initially. The pilot phase of the project is expected to begin in the last week of August, after the summer vacation ends. Special electric rickshaws are being developed, outfitted with solar panels and stocked with textbooks, stationery, painting supplies, and educational toys. According to the Director of Monitoring Education, these mobile schools will reach children in remote areas and provide them access to quality learning tools. Additionally, the "Library on Wheels" initiative will feature mini-vans decorated with cartoons and fitted with chairs and tables. These mobile libraries will offer books in Urdu, English, and Science, as well as magazines, and can be stationed in open fields or playgrounds. In the first phase, the projects will be launched in hilly tehsils of Rawalpindi Division, including Kahuta, Kallar Syedan, Kotli Sattian, and Murree.


Express Tribune
29-06-2025
- Express Tribune
The war that ended, the suffering that didn't
It is well known that when power is left unchecked, it can lead to disaster. Throughout history, numerous individuals and nations have struggled to emerge as the dominant power, but there is one that remains undefeated — the United States of America. John Hersey's Hiroshima explores this country's relentless pursuit of global dominance through the lives of six survivors and the tragic bombing of Hiroshima. Though this event occurred decades ago, we remain subversive beings, dominated and controlled by the US. Hiroshima remains relevant in today's world, while in the modern era, as the US continues to exert its influence through military interventions, economic pressures, and political maneouvering, Hiroshima remains a crucial text for understanding how power is wielded at the expense of human lives. Published in 1946, this book takes a narrative-driven approach, describing the lives of six survivors — two doctors, two women, a Catholic priest, and a factory worker — before, during, and after the atomic bombing of Hiroshima on August 6, 1945. The book is divided into four sections: the immediate impact of the bomb, the survivors' experiences in the aftermath, their struggles in the following weeks, and a final chapter, added 40 years later, examining their long-term physical and emotional scars. Additionally, the structure brings these characters to life in a powerful way, as it documents their entire experience. Hersey doesn't focus on just one instance or occasion; rather, he elaborates on how the past, present, and future of these individuals were completely shattered by the bombing. This is one of the book's greatest strengths, as it allows readers to connect with the narrative on a deeper level. To truly understand a tragedy and draw parallels between different time periods, it is imperative that an author humanise their characters by presenting various aspects of their lives. Hersey achieves this by providing detailed descriptions of his characters, such as Mr Tanimoto's background: 'There was another thing, too: Mr Tanimoto had studied theology at Emory College, in Atlanta, Georgia; he had graduated in 1940; he spoke excellent English; he dressed in American clothes; he had corresponded with many American friends right up to the time the war began; and among a people obsessed with a fear of being spied upon — perhaps almost obsessed himself — he found himself growing increasingly uneasy' (Hersey 10). Moreover, Hersey's depiction of the immediate and long-term effects of the atomic bomb compels readers to connect with the survivors' suffering. For example, Miss Sasaki, trapped under debris for hours, not only endures severe physical injury but also faces a life permanently altered by disability and isolation. Her pain is poignantly conveyed in the line: 'There, in the tin factory, in the first moment of the atomic age, a human being was crushed by books' (Hersey 22). Similarly, Father Kleinsorge's quiet suffering, as he battles ongoing illness due to radiation sickness, mirrors the fate of countless hibakusha (survivors of the bombing), who endured discrimination and health struggles long after the war ended. While reading the book, I constantly found myself linking this tragedy to the present-day world order. To me, Hiroshima still exists today because the US continues to wreak havoc and destruction in many nations. The book illustrates how a sense of normalcy is suddenly shattered by a country's decision to test atomic weapons without any regard for human lives. This remains our reality today. In an instant, war can erupt, a nation can launch an attack, lives can be lost, and international agreements can be breached — all it takes is a single moment for normalcy to be disrupted. This is precisely what we observe in the book from the very beginning. As readers, we are aware that something devastating is about to befall the characters, yet they are merely going about their daily lives when their world is completely upended. More often than not, it is the US that chooses to play the villain, justifying its actions in various ways. But Hiroshima is not confined to one place. You will find Hiroshima in Iraq, in Afghanistan, in the Middle East, and in all the countries that the US has treated as secondary. Hersey's text forces readers to reflect on the immense power this nation wields and raises an unsettling question: to what extent will it remain unchecked? And once this power fades, which nation — perhaps China or Russia — will scramble to seize it? Moreover, several instances in the book illustrate the aftermath of the bombing and how the victims adapted to their new, devastated world. These depictions reminded me of present-day Palestine, Syria, Yemen, and other war-torn regions where civilians are forced to endure unimaginable suffering. Just as Hiroshima's residents became collateral damage in a larger geopolitical struggle, modern wars continue to dehumanise victims, treating them as mere statistics rather than individuals with lives, dreams, and families. Hersey captures this ongoing struggle through his poignant portrayal of the survivors: 'A year after the bomb was dropped, Miss Sasaki was a cripple; Mrs Nakamura was destitute; Father Kleinsorge was back in the hospital; Dr Sasaki was not capable of the work he once could do; Dr Fujii had lost the thirty-room hospital it took him many years to acquire and had no prospects of rebuilding it; Mr Tanimoto's church had been ruined, and he no longer had his exceptional vitality. The lives of these six people, who were among the luckiest in Hiroshima, would never be the same.' (Hersey 89). This passage underscores one of the book's greatest strengths: its ability to humanise the victims and show that survival does not equate to an end of suffering. The destruction of Hiroshima was not just about immediate death — it was about irreversible loss, both physical and emotional, that extended long after the bomb had fallen. This mirrors the reality of millions today who, even after the airstrikes have ceased or the conflicts have subsided, must navigate a shattered world with no hope of returning to the life they once knew. Hersey's text forces readers to recognise that Hiroshima is not just a historical event; it is a recurring tragedy, playing out in different forms across the globe. It serves as a stark reminder that, despite decades of progress, war continues to erase entire communities, leaving survivors to pick up the pieces in a world that often turns a blind eye. As we discussed in class, the bombing of Hiroshima has been framed in US narratives as a necessity — an unavoidable act to hasten the end of World War II. According to this perspective, the attack was justified to prevent further casualties and bring about peace. However, Hersey's text deconstructs this view by presenting the personal suffering of civilians, shifting the focus from military strategy to human tragedy. Instead of reinforcing the dominant narrative of triumph and justification, Hiroshima forces readers to confront the devastating, long-term consequences of war on ordinary people — those who had no role in the decisions that sealed their journalistic writing style plays a crucial role in this deconstruction. His detailed, matter-of-fact descriptions strip away political rhetoric, replacing it with an intimate portrayal of loss, pain, and survival. By following the lives of six individuals, he makes the horrors of war accessible and deeply personal, ensuring that history does not erase their suffering in favor of abstract discussions of strategy and victory. The neutrality of his prose makes the destruction even more chilling; there is no embellishment, no overt condemnation — just raw, undeniable reality. In conclusion, Hersey's text forces us to question existing power structures and the limits placed upon them — if any truly exist. The book serves as a reminder that history is often written by the victors, allowing those in power to justify destruction in the name of progress, security, or peace. Ultimately, Hiroshima is more than a historical account — it is a call to remember, to question, and to resist the dangerous normalisation of war and destruction. Syeda Fizza Jafri is a media student and a freelance writer All facts are information are the sole responsibility of the writer