by Roger J. Kreuz, University of Memphis, [This article first appeared in The Conversation, republished with permission]

During a campaign event with Democratic presidential nominee Kamala Harris in Michigan on Aug. 8, Harris’ running mate, Minnesota Gov. Tim Walz, used the word “damn” four times during his brief remarks, including in two sentences in a row:

“When you got a billion dollars, you don’t give a damn about your Social Security check. But if you’re like my mom and you depend on the Social Security check as your sole income, it’s pretty damn important,” he said.

The following day, in Glendale, Arizona, Walz used the term eight more times. A day later, at a rally in Las Vegas, he made use of the expression an additional eight times.

And in a social media post on Aug. 13, he declared that he was “damn proud” of his military service.

These episodes clearly weren’t mistakes or momentary lapses in judgment. What was the vice presidential candidate trying to accomplish by repeatedly using a term that some people find offensive?

I’m a cognitive scientist who studies and writes about language and communication. One question that sprang to mind was whether Walz was speaking as he always had, or whether he was deliberately adopting a new way of expressing himself.

Candidate Tim Walz at a Wisconsin rally on Aug. 7, 2024, says, ‘Mind your own damn business!’ speaking of conservative attempts to curtail abortion access and LGBTQ+ rights.

A consistent history

It turns out that Walz’s use of “damn” in public is nothing new for him.

In 2023, for example, he declared that “Minnesota has been waiting too damn long” for gun control measures.

At a news conference in Iowa two months later, he asserted – twice – that people should mind their own “damn business” when it came to abortion, LGBTQ issues and school curriculum.

Earlier, in 2022, he said that the Supreme Court’s 2022 ruling that overturned Roe v. Wade wouldn’t “do a damn thing to prevent abortions.” In 2020, he stated that a decision to ban police officers from using chokeholds on suspects was “a pretty damn low bar.”

And even before that, in 2015, then-U.S. Rep. Walz was quoted as declaring “politics be damned” when he cast his vote on free-trade agreements.

Clearly, this term is part of the candidate’s normal speaking style and has been for many years.

Even though research suggests that profanity causes people to be perceived negatively, its use doesn’t seem to have hurt Walz at the ballot box. He has won eight out of eight elections during his political career, serving six terms in the U.S. House of Representatives and two as Minnesota’s governor.

During this period, there was also a marked increase in profanity used by politicians on social media, and this may have made such language seem less objectionable to his constituents.

Politicians and profanity

Walz’s salty way of expressing himself has a long history in American politics. One of the earliest chief executives who publicly employed such language was the populist Andrew Jackson – although the story that his foul-mouthed parrot had to be removed from his funeral service in 1845 may or may not be true.

In the 20th century, Jackson would be joined by the likes of Harry Truman, who called Gen. Douglas MacArthur a “dumb SOB.” Lyndon Johnson was notorious for leavening his conversations with words like “piss” and “shit.” And other candidates for high office, such as Barry Goldwater, observed that only a “damn fool” would try to predict the future.

Vice presidents have also been known to turn the air blue in unscripted moments. Dick Cheney famously told U.S. Sen. Patrick Leahy to go “fuck yourself” during an altercation on the floor of the Senate. And then-Vice President Joe Biden told President Barack Obama that passing health care reform was “a big fucking deal.”

And even presidents who didn’t swear in public could be quite profane during their private meetings, as the transcripts of Richard Nixon’s Oval Office conversations made clear. Nixon had a penchant for the word “damn” and used it often when talking with his staff.

In short, many lawmakers have chosen to express themselves, in other settings, in a way similar to Walz on the campaign trail.

Tim Walz is not the only politician who uses profanity; Texas Democrat Beto O’Rourke does, too.

A newsworthy phenomenon?

Journalists seem to find these episodes notable enough to write about. In 2012, for example, Rolling Stone made much of Obama’s referring to Republican presidential nominee Mitt Romney as “a bullshitter” in an interview with the magazine.

In 2016, The New York Times ran a story about Donald Trump, Rand Paul, Jeb Bush, Bernie Sanders and Lindsey Graham under the headline “Foul-mouthed and Proud of It,” detailing the candidates’ use of terms such as “damn,” “hell” and “bull–it.”

And in 2019, a Los Angeles Times columnist complained that Democratic presidential candidates Corey Booker, Steve Bullock and Beto O’Rourke were “cursing a blue streak” by employing terms like “f—ed up.”

Why is such behavior considered newsworthy?

In part, this may stem from our high expectations about how political leaders should comport themselves – at least in public. When leaders use vulgar language, they stray from this exalted standard. This seems to be the case even after generations of politicians have failed to meet this ideal.

Benefits of blue language?

People often employ transgressive language in order to create a certain impression. And in the case of Walz, he may be trying to establish – or to burnish – his persona as a regular guy, an everyman. Some observers have pointed to Donald Trump’s use of profanity as a sign of the former president’s authenticity.

Younger adults are also more tolerant of profanity than members of older generations. The widespread use of profanity in hip-hop and other musical genres may be one reason for this.

As Walz continues to campaign for the Democratic presidential ticket, it will be interesting to see whether he chooses to moderate his language or whether he views his plainspokenness as an asset rather than a liability.

Roger J. Kreuz, Associate Dean and Professor of Psychology, University of Memphis

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.