
Why do we curse and swear: #!@*&% ?
Listen to learn how swearing can bond people together, how it changes across cultures and languages, and why some words just hit harder than others, especially in your first language. Together, we'll explore how bad words might not be so bad after all.
SBS Audio
29/05/2025 32:36
Host: Rune Pedersen joined by Stefan Delatovic
Producers: Rune Pedersen, Stefan Delatovic
Writers: Rune Pedersen and Stefan Delatovic
Artwork: Wendy Tang
Post production and sound design: Dom Evans and James Coster at EARSAY
SBS Audio team: Joel Supple, Max Gosford, Bernadette Phương Nam Nguyễn
Guests: Professor Kate Burridge Stefan: How Humans Talk is an SBS podcast recorded on Wurundjeri country. We pay our respects to the custodians of this land, which has been shaped by stories and language and love for generations. The following episode contains swearing and bad language. So if you're listening with children, family, or friends, make sure they listen closely because studies show swearing might be good for your health and optimise your performance. Rune: But if you rather skip any coarse language. This might be a good episode to miss. Although we think you might miss out. Stefan: That little Danish. That's fun. What does that mean? Rune: Ah, it's just, uh, some, some friendly banter, like Aussie style banter. Oh, cool. What does it translate into? I think it's something like, um, you disgusting dick face. Stefan: Oh my God. Why would you call me that? Rune: I don't know. It's just like the, just what we say here, right? Like just. You dick face. Stefan: Oh, you are thinking of dickhead. Rune: Isn't that the same? Stefan: It's uh, similar. I dunno, for some reason when you call me a disgusting dick face, it feels more offensive than dickhead. But maybe that's just because I, I say dickhead all the time. Rune: Well, the head and the face is kind of connected. I don't quite get Aussie swear words are really, really confusing. But I, I'm so like intrigued and I wanna, I wanna Stefan: just learn them. Yeah. Okay. I mean, there's probably some safer ones. If you want to just sprinkle them in to sort of Aussie chat, please. Uh, there's some classics like Struth or Crikey. Yeah, those are some of the all time classics. You've got my all time favorite Fuckwit. My mom used to love that one. And that leads to, we got a lot of sort of sex ones, like, uh oh, bugger me or get rooted, or, oh, you're soft cock. And then obviously there's the C word, but, um, you know, a handle with care. Like, like what do you mean? Like, crap? No, no, not that one. But you just said cock, was it, is it cock? No, no, it's not cock like creepy cock. No, no. Not creepy Cock. Uh, I, yeah, I wouldn't feel comfortable saying it. Well, Rune: well what, what is it? Stefan: It's, uh, look, I actually think I'm not qualified to be teaching you this stuff. I think we need to find someone else. Rune: You. Creepy cock. Creepy cock is so upsetting. So off I went. On my merry way to meet none other than Kate Burridge, distinguished linguist professor at Monash University and a professional swearer. For someone like yourself who deals with language every day, what's your take on using language as a means of cursing? Kate: Well, it's the fallout of taboo, really. It's all part and parcel of it. Yes. These things that go bump in the nighters as sometimes describe it for society, whatever they be, uh, we, you know, I'm incredibly powerful and uh, Kate: I think even today, words have this power. Rune: Why do you think that? Kate: Oh, that's a, that's a really good question. Why? Why? Why is it? I think in the case of taboo, taboo words, people really do behave as if there is a very real connection between what the word means and how it sounds, you know? Linguist, bang on about the arbitrary nature of language, the fact that there's no necessary or natural connection between, I don't know, table, um, you know, what I'm looking at now and the word table. But in the case of taboo words, it's very, very different. People talk about these as, you know, ugly sounding and. Dirty words and parents even wash kids' mouths out with soap, you know, when they utter one of these words. Uh, so they, I think that is where the power comes from. And this, you know, is also power that's attached to names. Look at, you know, Rumpelstiltskin , which I think has parallels in many different, uh, cultures where, you know, learning the, the name of the little villain, uh, stripped him of his power, you know, so there's all sorts of examples of that. Rune: So it's, it's what humans attach to it. Hmm. It's the energy we put into it. Kate: Yes. I mean, when you think about it, these words are just assemblages of vowels and consonants. Uh, and they can easily be stripped of their power, and they are often over time. But, uh, people just have this. Reaction, and people talk about them as sort of raising goose flesh. And, and then there are scientific experiments to show that they do, uh, bring on, you know, larger, stronger galvanic skin responses. Uh, they, there's evidence that they're, if they're not stored differently in their brain, they're at least access differently. Some people lose all ability to, you know, to use language, accept the ability to use dirty words or swear words. This is. Fascinating. Really? Mm. Rune: So that's a different part of the brain. Kate: And that would only be possible if these words were well, if not stored differently, then certainly accessed differently. And people often, you know, I've heard a number of people describe the very distressing situation where, you know, older relatives. Experience this, and they, they suddenly start to, you know, swear like a trooper and they've never sworn all their life. So there are, there's something very special about these words. Rune: Yeah. So have we been able to then figure out if it's the intent and meaning of the words or if it's the sounds of the words or if it's a combination of both? Kate: Combination of both. I think. Because I think they're tied closely together. Yes. Some last for centuries and retain their slangs or their power, uh, others, peter out. And so what is it that allows these words to survive so well? Uh, so, and, and the sound, the aesthetics of words. That's a big part of it. Rune: Yeah. They feel good in your mouth. Rune: And I think it's interesting also being a, a non-native English speaking person, um, I'm very fond of saying, uh, the F word. Mm-hmm. Um, and I don't attach a great big deal to it. Kate: No. And that's the interesting thing because there have been many studies done on. Bilingual multilingual speakers. Um, and yes, certainly swear words in, let's say both languages. If we think of bilingual speakers, will, um, raise goose flesh if I put it loosely like that. So they will have a greater emotional reaction to, you know, the swear words in, in, um, in both languages. But, um, you know, in the first language, it's always much stronger in fact. Bilinguals often report that, you know, say the F word as you've just said, does nothing. It'll depend on, you know, when the second language was acquired. But it has to do with the very early experience. It has to, uh, swear words. I mean, kids learn the power of these words really very early on. Uh, you know, I've spoken to many traumatized Australians who have had their mouths washed out by soap. Usually older Australians now. Really? Yeah. Very traumatic experience for them. So. These, these, um, words will, will kind of enter the brain with a kind of linguistic health warning as, uh, the psycho linguist Timothy J put it, you know, these words come with with rewards. You know, kid drops one of these words and they get, you know, all the attention in the world. I. Uh, they also come with penalties, washing your mouth out with soap, uh, sent off to your room, whatever. Uh, so, and if you learn it later in life, you know, a swear word, then it's not going to have the same kind of cultural imprint of the forbidden. So it's, it's just not gonna have that sort of power. Rune: A lot of us had to adopt English as a second language. Um, there is this sort of. For lack of a better way of defining it, and maybe you can help me out here, but there's this sort of blue collar, larrikin Australian identity in terms of how we talk. Is that the case? Kate: Most certainly. And I think it goes back to the very early appearance of English in this country. And when you think of the, what went into that linguistic melting pot, it was, you know, the slang and cant of sailors and whalers and gold diggers and convicts of course. So a lot of underworld slang at that time, uh, there was a lot of early commentary around the fact that Australian English speakers swore a lot. Interestingly, and this goes to what you were saying, uh, a number of people commented that, you know, and nothing was meant much by this. So it's this idea of kind of solidarity. So yes, I think, uh, and that is a marked difference, I believe with Australian. English swearing and swearing elsewhere. You know, and Australians might be disappointed to know that. Uh, we're not the top when it comes to vulgarity. Uh, we are third in fact, behind the US and behind the uk. But the big difference is that we wear these swear words. Uh. Along with the kind of nicknames and the shortenings and the insults, a bit like emblems on a t-shirt. You know, they define us, they're important part of our Australian ness, the kind of mythic friendliness and you know, that's how we like to imagine ourselves anyway, the larrikin. Rune: And so, so from someone who's coming to Australia and also want to, to fit in, like how can I navigate, how can I navigate swearing to a degree where I fit in? Um, but I also don't offend. Kate: Hmm. 'cause 'cause these words still can offend. Of course they can. Yeah. Rune: And I, I know it's context based of course. Right. But yes. Is that the, is that the answer to it? I think the, the Kate: only thing to do is to watch and learn, which is obviously what you've been doing. Uh, there are always, um. Camouflage words, remodelings, linguistic fig leaves to use. Uh, you know, society recognizes that you might have the inner urge to swear, but it may not be appropriate. So you've got this out in the way of these kind of remodeled swear words. And Australian English is full of those two, like crikey and cripes and all those, you Butte Aussie lingo words from way back, uh, they still trotted out. Uh, so yeah, there's, there's a way, but it is a very hard part to learn. I mean, it's a bit like the, those what are sometimes called discourse markers, the little words that we pop in our conversations like the, your nose and the likes. And I mean, and I think, and yeah, no, and. Uh, they're hard, but they take a long time. But they are important part of full competence of a language like the swearing. I mean, there are some key expressions and bloody would be one of them. You know, the so-called great Australian adjective. I mean, it isn't an adjective, as I'm sure you probably aware, adjectives will describe nouns. You know, the, the bloody door would be a door that has blood smeared all over it, but, you know, shut the bloody door. That bloody there just smears the sentiment all over the entire sentence. Mm. Uh but it's, um, that's an important part of Australian English, you know? 'cause we just love the vernacular language. Uh, so little words like that are important probably. Yeah. Two years Rune: I think. So. I think, uh, it's a. Because you stand out when you use them incorrectly. Mm-hmm. Um, Kate: and they are complex. I mean, you know, depending on the li the, the situation, depending on the linguistic context, what's the bloody, you know, nestled up against a whole lot of different meanings. Rune: Could you help us define what makes a swear word? Kate: I suppose we still have the earlier understanding of swearing, you know, um, where you make a solemn oath, I swear by almighty God to tell the truth, et cetera. That's the sort of early understanding of swearing. So profane, swearing in that early period would've been irreligious language. So language that's not respectful of the deity. And then I. From there, it just broadened to encompass whatever was taboo at the time. So these days you could think of swearing as being the emotional use of. Of a taboo word? Well, for a number of purposes, it could be to let off steam. It could be to insult somebody. It could be to show surprise or excitement. It could be as a bit of verbal cuddling, you know, to show your good mates, uh, whole lot of different functions for swearing. And it's, I think, important to think of those different functions. Rune: And how is wearing then different than saying other taboo words? Uh, taboo phenomenons like a euphemism. Kate: Uh, so yes. So it won't learn. I mean, if I, if I can use a swear word, shit, for example. Uh, it's not gonna cut it. If you say excrement, if you use a, uh, a Latin based. Euphemistic term. Um, of course, you know, Latin and French have been deodorizing English for a long time and we have a vast array. And what you will find with taboo is that you'll typically get a incredible richness of vocabulary. As of course, euphemisms wear out and become themselves taboo or just simply disappear and then have to be replaced. So they just don't cut it. They don't, 'cause what gives you that emotional release is the breaking of the taboo. So. You might think, well, there have been studies done, for example, to show how swearing will alleviate pain. Famous experiment by Professor Stevens. In England and uh, participants were had to plunge their arm into ice cold water and they were given a swear word of their choice and then they had to do it again. I'm not sure how we got ethics approval for this. It's not very nice. Plunging your arm into ice cold water. But anyway, then they were, had to repeat the experiment with, uh, just an ordinary word, like table or whatever. And of course they could keep their. In the water longer, um, with a swear word. Kate: Um, than without. So, you know, there's pretty robust evidence. There are plenty of other experimental, um, or other experimental evidence to show that swearing can alleviate pain. It has that power to do that. Only, you know, plenty of studies coming out of maternity wards to, to see, you know, the air blue with language and it does help to, so, you know, it shares that with other, I suppose. Mostly involuntary. Um. Noises that we make, like laughter, like screaming, like, um, those sorts of crying, you know, that, that it will help you cope with a stressful, painful situation. It will help you to focus, uh, it'll make you feel better. There's always something good about bad language, whatever that bad language is. And of course, you know, there's a whole lot of things that people will brand with the label. Bad language, you know? Yeah. Whether we're talking about pronunciation features or lousy grammar or whatever Rune: we often call swearing. Bad language. Bad, bad thing to do, but yeah. And you kind of answered it now, but can swearing be good? Kate: Yes. Absolutely. I shouldn't use the word. Absolutely. I'm sure many people would brand that, that emphatic use of absolutely as a swear word, as probably more so than bugger or shit. But anyway, I'll stop using. Absolutely. Most certainly indeed. Uh, it, uh, it has, uh, a lot of therapeutic benefits. So alleviating pain, Stevens went on to do another. Well, a number of experiments. In fact, one, to show that, uh, people who sort of curse their way through a half a minute bike exercise on a, on an exercise bike could, I think it was, raise their power. I think something like 24 watts or something like that. Mm-hmm. Uh, a hand grip, uh, exercise and gripping this, I quite can't, there is a term for it. I can't think of it now. Um, their strength was increased by over two kilos if they were allowed to swear. There have been studies where people have been put in stressful situations and been told they can't swear. I mean, I think there is good evidence that swearers will lead less stressful, you know, lives. Kate: But I should add to this, and this will again, interest you because of the power of words. Uh, the effects in all areas as far as I know, will diminish if you're an habitual swearer. Kate: of these words will diminish with use. Rune: Okay. That's good advice then. Yes. Kate: So if, yeah, so don't overdo it Rune: Now. Choose your swear words Kate: carefully. Mm-hmm. Gordon Ramsey would be well advised to. Uh, in fact, I often think that there's a lot in common between language and food. You know, that, uh, as my cookbook, I've got one cookbook that says, you know, a flavor repeated too often, it becomes tiresome. And what is interesting too is that many studies, and these are studies going back to the 1930s, show that when things get really, really stressful, the swearing cuts out. There was a study done by the, um, Australian lexicographer. Partridge, Eric Partridge of swearing amongst World War I soldiers. And again, when things got really stressful, the swearing diminished. Uh, it was a study, one of the very famous early studies done in 1960. A woman looked at, um, swearing amongst zoologists in the Norwegian arctic periods of, you know, total darkness. And again, when things got very stressful, swearing diminished. Psychiatric Ward sa, same study. I've looked at black boxes from, you know, when aircraft crashes. Awful stuff, swearing while it's, you know, dreadful things are happening. But as soon as it's clear that the plane is gonna crash, then the swear words cut out. Kate: I'm not sure to be honest why, why that is, why that would be why. You know, when things get really, really ful, well, there's often just silence. I think people are literally lost for words. Rune: You're getting closer to a a almost, if you're in that belief system. Mm-hmm. If you believe of something like that, then you're getting close to it. Then it's really quite interesting. Mm-hmm. That if we, if we say that swearing in its initial form was. Uh, cussing off, you know, the deity. Rune: Then when we are now getting really close to it in a serious situation, we actually stopped doing it. There's something there that's giving me actual goosebumps. Interesting. Yes, yes, Rune: And I know this is just me speculating, right. But of course, if you've been in a really tragic situation, you also just know you're lost for words. Kate: Yes, exactly. It could be as simple as that. So you kind of wonder whether, uh, one of these remodeled swear words would have the same effect as. Sort of like fiddle fat or that's a cute one, but you know, there are sugar, shoot, shucks, all these, there, there are hundreds of these remodel swear words. Would they have the same effect? I suspect not because the effects comes from that, you know, violating a taboo that's gives you the emotional release. Rune: Could you, yeah. Could you expand on that for me? What it means to, to violate the taboo or to break the taboo? I. Kate: By actually saying the taboo word. Kate: So if you use one of these linguistic fig leaves, you're not actually saying the word. And yes, it will give you. The same release. You know, let's say you hit your thumb with a hammer, uh, you can say ow or you can say a whole lot of much stronger words. Mm. I don't know yet of a study that's done comparing those. I think that would be very, very interesting. Rune: Can you, in a short amount of time, take a word and then make it into a swear word even without it being a taboo? Kate: Now it has to arise out of those things that are difficult for society, you know? So ma, in an early times it was, you know, God and supernatural and. Body parts, particularly the body, body parts, the, sometimes it was dangerous animals, sometimes, you know, uh, bodily functions. And these days, you know what really packs a punch, of course, is what my colleague Keith Allen describes is Easter language. So racist, sexist, ageist, religionist. Language, you know, language that's deemed discriminatory in some way. Mm. They, so these have legal restraints now, whereas, you know, the, the legal restraints around other types of swearing have been lifted. And what is also interesting is that whenever there have been, you know, periods of censorship or oppression, it doesn't matter whether it's just social niceties or whether it's been in a full-blown laws. I mean, the first laws in English were in the Renaissance period. It was laws against, um, blasphemous language on the stage. Did people stop using that language? Well, no. They just got really inventive, and that's where you got some of these curious remodelings, like Zunes or Zs as sometimes pronounced God's wounds, swot. Every part of God's anatomy was sworn upon, but always in heavy disguise. Mm-hmm. You know, and again, when you come to the Vic. Victorian era. There was all this squeamishness about sex and body parts and bodily flu and bodily functions. And anyway, did they, you know, periods of great social nicety swearing didn't stop. Of course it didn't. And it was a Victorian era that gave us these great dictionaries of vulgar language. They, they came outta that time. Um, Rune: yeah, it's funny. It's almost like it's, it's, it's almost a futile exercise. Kate: It is a futile, so it's, you know, it's, it's not like trying to get people to stop biting their nails or stop smoking, you know, there's something, and it. Goes to this idea that there is always something good about bad language. Our brain swear for, for very, very good reasons. I always love that image of, um, Shakespeare's, you know, the worm in the bud. It's as if you've got this kind of offensive little worm feeding on the sort of bud, the rose bud of social nicety. Kate: It's, it just seems to, any sort of periods of, of repression seem to bring about even greater creativity of swearing. Kate: I've greater flourishing of it anyway, so I've probably gone off on tangents. I feed that you Rune: can kind of, I'm feeding you. Yeah, Kate: you are feeding me, uh, you are leading me down the garden pathway, right? Yeah, exactly. Rune: Yeah. Um, imagine me being a little, little thick worm. Is there a, this is quite linguistic question, but is there like a consistent linguistic formula that makes a word a taboo? Or is it purely the sort of the cultural context? Kate: Um, I love the description once of a, a mother of a child who had Tourette syndrome and she said, as she put it, society shapes the noise that is made. So she made the point that if I think if wish whistling the national anthem was the greatest obscenity, her daughter would be doing it there as a tick. Is how she put it. So, and, but I thought her description of society shaping the noise that is made is, is perfect because it is exactly that, you know, so you will find that taboo is dynamic. Uh, it will change over time. It will change from place to place. Uh, it will change, you know, even within the different English speaking communities. If I give an example, like, screw you or fuck you, or something like that. These are probably the only structures that my students of English grammar will remember, because we looked at the interesting grammar around these. So you look at screw you, you think, okay, what is that verb? You know who, who, what's the subject of that verb? It doesn't make sense. It's not a command. It's who's, who's the subject. Then when you look at earlier expressions like, damn you, or Bless you, if it could be something positive, of course there's God, God damn, you. Um, and God gets deleted because of euphemistic reasons. So it's just damn you. And then you just put it with the modern idiom. Mm-hmm. Um, screw you the more sexually, physically based verb. So it's a bit like, you know, new wine in old bottles. So you've got the linguistic bottle and you, you just put the modern idiom. Into that bottle. Rune: Wow. So, so, so the, so the sort of, the, the, the blasphemy energy is retained in that structure? Rune: But we, we just use new words. Rune: That's fascinating. Kate: And presumably that will change again, and you see it also the way that. Taboos will change. Is that in that curious expression? Pot calling Kettle black in English. So you know where you um, say someone is guilty of doing whatever they're accusing. Someone else of doing pot calling Kettle Black. You know that used to be pot calling Kettle black ass. In the Victorian era. So you've gotta think of kettles and pots on a fire and they're black and bottoms from the fire. And the kettle is saying to the pot, you've got a black ass just like I have. Mm. You know? And then of course the Victorians got a bit queasy about ass. So Ass was dropped. Pot calling Kettle Black. These days there's a lot of discussion on the internet about the racist nature of that word. So what happens now is that black gets dropped and so it's pot calling Kettle. It's all about pots and kettles. I've heard someone say so that that model, that that expression just kind of adapts as it Yeah. Moves through time. Rune: Okay. Interesting. Yeah. 'cause I. Uh, we don't have the same expression in, in Danish, but I've, uh, I heard it in English and understand it, but I always just like imagine, oh, I guess, I guess all puddles and ke kettles were black, but I never thought it was the actual burnt bottom. Kate: Burnt bottom. Mm-hmm. Yeah. Rune: Okay. Because I'm just like, oh, it's cast iron because, so knowing that swearing can be actually good sometimes, can swearing also connect people? Kate: That's the most usual function for swearing in. All the studies will show that, that it's the social. Social side of swearing, the, the use of swearing for friendly banter or to show mateship or solidarity or, you know, particularly when directed against outsiders, you know, it's kind of defines the gang. Kate: So that's where you might use a, a swear word, but not with any hostility. And then, you know, it might be thrown back at you. I could, I could call you a silly bugger and you. Hurler, you know, an insult back at me. But it's, it's all meant, you know, it's all signaling great friendship. Uh, and, and this has been the case for a long, long time. In fact, if you go back early enough in English, and you certainly get this in the Scandinavian languages, there's something called flighting, which is what, what was it defined as? The fine art of the savage insult. This is basically where the players, and we are looking at, you know, we're thinking of old Norse literature here. So it's embedded in exquisite literature of the time where the players will hurl abuse terms at each other. You know, really offensive terms, and it comes as quite a shock when you encounter these, um, examples. But it's, it's, um, it's not meant to be negative. It can turn nasty, but, and it, it's some, you know, that I suppose you get echoes of flighting as it's called in, um, in the kind of modern rap battles where you exchange these insults with rap. So, you know, it does have its modern appearances as well. Rune: Yeah, yeah. But it is Kate: something called flighting, Rune: and this is a really sensitive topic. Then when we are navigating all, a lot of people living together with different beliefs as well because it's like, how do you navigate this Kate: language? It's like anything in life, you know, you wouldn't use a knife to eat peas, um, because it's not the right tool and it's the same with language. Kate: There's a time and a place, you know. There's no point in washing kids' mouths out with soap. You're just giving those words extra power and fascination for kids. But it's good to have a good discussion with kids about these words. Rune: Yeah. It's quite interesting that action in itself is empowering the word. Kate: Mm. I mean, it's a, it's a striking, a literal, you know, that dirt metaphor? Uh, we talk about them as dirty words. I mean, they're poor little things. They're just words. Rune: Is there a common myth about swearing you would like to debunk? Kate: I suppose the idea that you can stamp it out well, that I would like to get that message across for all bad language, really, uh, that it's not intrinsically bad, uh, and there are positive aspects to it, and that indeed, as I've mentioned earlier. History shows that periods of censorship and repression just simply coincide with a, a greater flourishing of swear words. Mm. It just seems to provide more fertile soil for the swear words to thrive. Uh, so that was, you know, I, I think that's right. Rune: Okay. So last question. What does swearing say about how humans communicate? Kate: What's wearing says for me, and I suppose it's vernacular language generally, or what it drives home to me, is just this extraordinary creativity of ordinary language users. You know, the sorts of poetic language metaphors that. That come up in this sort of language are, are, are amazing. And you see it also in the remodelings, we talked about the remodel swear words. So you know everything from sort of holy moly to drought, to suffering, sache to yes, just having fun really. Stefan: So swearing feels good because it let us play around with taboos. Yeah. And like everything we're looking at, it's got all this sort of unexamined importance baked into it. Like Kate, I thought. I had a really great point about how you can use swearing to find the sore points in a culture like. It used to be blasphemy and now it's the stuff that people say that's really cooked is all about prejudice and inequality and those current preoccupations and you know, still sex stuff. Rune: Still sex stuff. So when we try to hold this down, right, like we try stopping people from swearing, it just gets stronger and it just builds and we can't really stop it. And I thought that was such an important point. Swearing still feels like blasphemy, but I thought it was so interesting that when we are truly looking at guard and we are meeting a daily and we're in a desperate situation, humans just stop swearing and it's just funny how that all binds us together. Yeah. Wow. Kate was really smart. Very smart. We should find a way of recognizing her. Could we make a new swear word in her honor? Yeah. Like what? So what's the recipe then for creating a good swear word Kate: sound? I. Mm. And shortness if it's gonna be a good expletive. I think so. Thinking of the, oh, no second, where you, you know, where you think of pressing that key and dispatching the email to your work, the entire workplace instead of your mate, what word bubbles up then? It's usually a short, sharp, for English anyway. Word. And Rune: I guess that depends then on the phonetics of a particular link, which, what's Kate: yes. Yes. I think in the case of swear words, you've got, um, in English anyway, the sort of recipe would be single syllable, low vowel and stopped consonants. So like, shit, you know, ends in a, a strong stopped consonant. Fuck. Interestingly, they're the same characteristics of the quintessential male name in, in English like Jack, you know? Kate: But I mean, it doesn't go across the board, and that's always the way with sound symbolism. So my own name, Kate, ought to be a very good swear word, but Rune: maybe that will be the new swear word. Kate: that's right. That's Rune: right. Thank you very much, Kate. I really appreciate it. That's my pleasure. Rune: you. Ah, okay, so that's the recipe for, for a good swear word. What do we, what do, what should we do? I. I Stefan: dunno, what should we do? You're sick, Kate. Rune: How Humans Talk is produced and written by Stefan Delatovic and by me Rune Pedersen from Onomato People. Post-production and sound design for the series was done by Dom Evans and James Coster at EARSAY. The SBS team is Joel Supple and Max Gosford, and our artwork is by Wendy Tang.
Rune: And just to be clear, any swearing in this episode was done with a lot of love. But if we raised your goose flesh, tell us off wherever you found this podcast.
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First Nations firefighters changing culture on the Queensland fire line
When Arlene Clubb and her relatives joined their local volunteer fire brigade in rural Queensland a decade ago, they were not entirely welcomed with open arms. "People didn't want us there because we were Indigenous people," the Kuku-Thaypan, Kuku Yalanji and Kuku-Possum woman said. "[Some members] in a photo, they turned their backs on us, they didn't want to be in the same photo as us and it just sort of made us feel no good. "But we didn't let that faze us. If you let people like that affect you, you're not going to go anywhere." The reception some gave the Clubb family at the Tinaroo Rural Fire Brigade in the state's far north belied the efforts of first officer and founding member Les Green, who went out of his way to encourage the Wadjanbarra Yidinji traditional owners to join in the first place. It started with a conversation about the need to manage a piece of the Atherton Tablelands of great importance to traditional owners. Arlene's sister-in-law Kylee Clubb, who also signed up, is now the Tinaroo brigade's second officer, working to drive cultural change in fire management more broadly. "[We] thought about what we wanted to do as a family and what we wanted to do as First Nations people, especially on the lands we've been on up there on the Tablelands," she said. Kylee said the growing number of First Nations firefighters was leading to a greater appreciation within agencies of the importance of cultural burning. The practice involves using small fires to benefit the ecology and encourage plant growth, rather than a simple focus on reducing fuel loads. But the best time for a cultural burn on the Atherton Tablelands — an ancient landscape shaped by volcanic activity millions of years ago — might clash with statewide fire bans or burning schedules decided elsewhere in the state. Kylee said the "conversation is being started" about moving away from strict burn schedules, to better include Indigenous knowledge of landscapes. "At the moment, we've seen heaps of lantana, heaps of different weeds, sicklepods just overtake the forest," she said. "[It's about] paying attention to what's flowering and what's seasonal. "The seeds we have out here need activation from fire." Fire management agencies have shown an interest in investing in the leadership skills and expertise of their First Nations personnel too. When the Queensland Fire Department was looking for female firefighters to attend an Indigenous-focused intensive training exchange program in the United States three years ago, Kylee was one of those asked to go. She and fellow Far North Queenslanders Chloe Sweeney and Alex Lacy found the experience so rewarding, they decided to organise their own version of Women-in-Fire Training Exchange, or WTREX, on home soil. It ran over 12 days near Cairns last month, bringing together 40 fire practitioners from across Australia and overseas, most of whom were Indigenous women. One of those was Arlene, who said the growing presence of Indigenous women among the ranks of volunteer firefighters was about showing "we're not just mothers, not just caregivers, not just stay-at-home wives anymore". "[Dispossession] did stop a lot of our cultural burning but it never got lost — the mentality has always been there and all the knowledge we had from our elders is still there," she said. Lenya Quinn-Davidson, an expert on human connection to fire at the University of California, was one of the founders of WTREX in 2016. She took part in the recent Queensland program, and said it was important to offer Indigenous women a safe place to develop their skills and share knowledge so they could thrive in a traditionally "male-dominated, very militaristic" field. "The fire issues we have globally are so wicked, they're wicked problems, and we need diverse perspectives to solve them," she said. Megan Currell, an Australian-born member of the British Columbia Wildfire Service said a decade ago, "it felt like Canada was way ahead of Australia" when it came to relationships with Indigenous peoples. "When I come back and visit home, honestly, I see a massive improvement in the relationship and that cultural aspect, starting to get into cultural burns and being a support system for that and forming real partnerships," she said. "I'd say now they're starting to become neck-and-neck a bit or maybe even Australia is starting to take over."

Daily Telegraph
2 hours ago
- Daily Telegraph
Robert Lewers: The man behind The Kiosk at Freshwater and the Queenscliff Tunnel
Don't miss out on the headlines from Manly. Followed categories will be added to My News. Many men and women have made their mark on the northern beaches but few of the structures for which they were responsible have survived the passage of the years. One exception is Robert David Lewers, who was responsible for the excavation of the Queenscliff Tunnel and the construction of the building that is now a restaurant called Pilu at Freshwater. Robert Lewers, who was born in Ireland in 1855, was the son of Rev Robert Lewers, who migrated from Ireland to Queensland in 1867, after which he was the minister of St Andrew's Presbyterian Church in Sydney from 1869 to 1873. In 1873 Rev Lewers moved to Victoria and was the minister at the Presbyterian Church at Sandhurst in Melbourne and then at Eaglehawk near Bendigo. Robert Lewers c1889. Photo Virginia Farley, Northern Beaches Library Rather than follow his father into the church, Robert Lewers became a banker and by 1880 he was living in Sydney and managing the Sussex St branch of the London Chartered Bank of Australia, which had been formed in 1852 by Duncan Dunbar, the owner of the Dunbar shipping line and of the ill-fated Dunbar. Along with many other banks in Australia, the London Chartered Bank of Australia collapsed in 1893 but, after being restructured, it reopened in August the same year as the London Bank of Australia. Lewers' first foray into the northern beaches was in 1887, when he bought two acres of land on the waterfront south of the southern end of Forty Baskets Beach, opposite Manly. In 1891, Lewers and another man, John Davison, bought nine acres at the southern end of Forty Baskets Beach, adjoining the land he had bought four years earlier, although Davison sold his share in the nine acres to Lewers five months later. Two years earlier, in 1889, Lewers had married Maria Propsting, who was 10 years his junior. Robert and Maria Lewers were members of the Religious Society of Friends – also known as the Quakers – a Christian denomination founded in England in the 17th century by people dissatisfied with the existing denominations of the Christian church. The house at Forty Baskets built by Robert Lewers. Photo Northern Beaches Library Maria grew up in Tasmania, where her father Henry was a businessman and for some years an alderman on Hobart City Council. He was also a Quaker and presumably it was from her father that Maria and then her husband took their beliefs. Although Lewers bought the nine acres at the southern end of Forty Baskets in 1891, the Lewers family didn't move to Forty Baskets until 1896. Lewers had a road wide enough for a horse and cart built down to the shoreline from near the end of present-day the upper part of Beatty St and also had a jetty built on the foreshore. There was already a timber house on the property, in which Lewers and his family lived while a much larger two-storey stone house was built closer to the shoreline using rock quarried on the site. The Kiosk c1920. Photo Northern Beaches Library Lewers was knowledgeable in the use of explosives – as was later seen to tragic effect – and in excavating stone by drilling. Lewers sold his property at Forty Baskets in 1903 and by 1904 the family was living at Wahroonga. By 1907 the Lewers were living at Manly and in 1908, Lewers bought a large piece of land behind the beach at Freshwater and built The Kiosk there. He also established a number of small cabins, or camps, that were rented by working men, as did several other men who owned land behind Freshwater Beach. As well as being the family home for a year, The Kiosk was a family business, although Lewers continued working for the London Bank of Australia. The Kiosk offered refreshments and afternoon teas, as well as overnight and weekend accommodation. After a year living in The Kiosk, the Lewers family lived in a house The Camp on the cliff edge at the end of Queenscliff Rd. The Camp, the Lewers family home at the end of Queenscliff Road, Queenscliff. Photo Northern Beaches Library The Freshwater Bay Postal Receiving Office operated from The Kiosk from 1909 to 1911 and, until the Harbord Literary Institute took over that role, The Kiosk served as Freshwater's social and cultural centre, providing a venue for afternoon tea parties, meetings and dances. It was also a favoured stopping-place for tourists on their way up the peninsula, often hosting groups of VIPs and even members of the visiting Imperial Japanese Navy in 1911. The Japanese were riding high on the back of their success against the Russian navy at the Battle of Tsushima six years earlier and would have been treated with some respect by the Australian authorities. In 1908 Lewers commissioned the construction of a tunnel through a section of Queenscliff Head that made access from Queenscliff Beach to Freshwater Beach difficult because the cliff in that section fell sheer to the water. Robert Lewers, far left, posing with D. Bevan, the man who excavated the tunnel in 1908. Photo Sonia Farley, Northern Beaches Library The completion of the tunnel was reported in the Evening News: 'An enterprising resident of Freshwater, Mr R.D. Lewers, has had constructed a tunnel through the rocks at the most difficult spot of what is known as Freshwater [Queenscliff] Head. This is recognised as the commencement of the construction of a walk from the Ocean Beach round to Freshwater. The southern end of the tunnel in 1982. Photo Manly Daily 'The tunnel is a little over 83 feet long, 6 feet 6 inches high and has been visited by hundreds of people, many of whom clamber round the rocks to the beach and others to favourite fishing spots. The work was carried out single-handedly by Mr D. Bevan and it took him three months to complete. 'To finish the walk, no more tunnelling will be required – the rest of the work to make the walk easy for pedestrians being mainly a matter of blasting the big rocks and smashing the debris to fill up the yawning crevices and making a level path.' The Kiosk in January 1980. Photo Manly Daily In 1910, Lewers began selling part of his land at Freshwater as the Lewers Sub-division. But on October 29, 1911, he took his own life in dramatic fashion by blowing his head off with gelignite and it was his daughter Aldwyth who discovered her father's mutilated body in one the camps. Lewers was only 56 years old at the time of his suicide. His wife Maria told the Coroner her late husband had always kept explosives on hand for use in blasting operations. She said he had been troubled by the pressures of his work at the bank and was always worried about the bank's customers, leading to insomnia. An examination of the books of the bank where Lewers worked found that everything was in order. The Kiosk, now called Pilu at Freshwater. Photo Manly Daily The Coroner returned a verdict of suicide while temporarily insane. When The Kiosk was sold in 1912 to Anton and Annie Loebel, the advertisement for the sale described it as 'a substantial structure of rusticated weatherboard, with six apartments and wide sleeping-out areas' – a modest description compared to the hyperbole of modern real estate agents. The Kiosk still sits in its prominent position at the southern end of Freshwater Beach but is now the restaurant called Pilu at Freshwater. Over the years the sides and roof of the tunnel through Queenscliff headland have been worn smooth by the elements, scouring the soft sandstone exposed by the tunnelling. As the process continues, as constant and unending as time itself, the tunnel's height and diameter has imperceptibly grown by the year. A monument that grows with the passage of time reflects well on those who toiled to create it.