I don’t remember exactly when it happened, but somewhere over the last decade I have begun to notice that abusive language has become remarkably common in everyday conversations. It is heard in political rallies, podcasts, social media videos, college campuses and even corporate corridors. Perhaps the change has been gradual enough that we barely noticed it. The recent protests at Delhi’s Jantar Mantar, however, brought it into sharp public focus.

To be clear, I am not suggesting that swearing is a recent phenomenon. It certainly is not. Having spent time in an engineering hostel and later in an IIM dorm—one so notorious that many of the dorm nicknames would be unprintable—I know that colourful language has always been part of youth culture. Friends have always abused each other affectionately, sports teams have always exchanged colourful banter, and moments of anger have always found expression through profanity. But there was an unwritten understanding. Such language belonged to particular settings and particular company. It rarely entered every public conversation. That boundary now seems far less clear.

One reason, I suspect, is linguistic. English has made profanity easier to accept. Many English swear words simply do not sound as offensive as their equivalents in Indian languages. Their foreignness creates emotional distance. People often use them without even thinking of them as abusive. The words change; the underlying insult does not. Over time, they stop sounding abusive and begin to feel like ordinary conversation.

Another trend deserves attention. Many abusive expression in Indian languages are deeply misogynistic. Their power comes from insulting women, even though they are directed at men. Ironically, these same expressions are increasingly used by women themselves, often as symbols of confidence or equality. Perhaps this reflects changing social norms. Yet it is worth asking whether equality is achieved by rejecting misogynistic language or by adopting it.

This example illustrates a broader point. Language does not merely reflect social norms; it also helps create them. That is precisely why the normalization of abusive language deserves attention. Decades of behavioural science explain why. Albert Bandura’s pioneering work on observational learning showed that people learn not merely through instruction but by watching others. Children imitate parents. Students imitate peers. Employees imitate leaders. Citizens imitate public figures. When influential individuals repeatedly use abusive language without consequence, they do more than express themselves—they quietly redefine what is socially acceptable.

Research on social norms reaches a similar conclusion. Much of our behaviour is guided by what we see others doing. The more frequently we hear profanity in political speeches, films, social media or everyday conversations, the more ordinary it begins to feel. Behaviour that was once considered inappropriate gradually becomes the new normal—not because anyone consciously decided so, but because repeated exposure signals social acceptance.

Marketers understand this phenomenon well. Much of marketing is about shaping perceptions of what is normal, desirable or socially acceptable. Behaviour often follows those perceptions.

Psychologists describe another related process: desensitization. Repeated exposure weakens our emotional response. Expressions that once shocked us gradually lose their force. While this may make swearing seem less offensive, it also lowers our sensitivity to verbal aggression more generally. The threshold for respectful disagreement shifts. Personal attacks become easier. Civility begins to appear unnecessary. Language also shapes emotion. Research on emotional contagion suggests that emotions spread through groups much like viruses. Hostile language raises the emotional temperature of conversations, making anger and aggression more likely to spread. One abusive remark often invites another, creating an escalating spiral in which conflict replaces dialogue.

These insights from behavioural science help explain why the growing normalization of abusive language deserves attention. The concern is not simply about words. It is about the social norms those words create and reinforce.

My experience teaching IIM MBA students over the past decade has revealed an interesting pattern. Students are invariably respectful inside the classroom (though the messages on the T-shirts can be colourful). Professional norms continue to matter when formal discussions begin. Yet outside the classroom, in corridors, cafeterias and hostels, conversations are often sprinkled with expletives. More interestingly, many of these words are not directed at anyone. They have become conversational fillers. When abusive language no longer expresses anger but simply fills conversational gaps, it is perhaps the clearest sign that it has become normalized.

This normalization also has professional consequences. One of the marks of professional maturity is the ability to adjust one’s communication to different situations. We naturally speak differently with friends, clients, professors, senior colleagues and board members. Communication is not merely about vocabulary; it is about judgment. The difficulty with habitual profanity is that habits do not always remain confined to informal settings. A word that slips out during a client meeting, a job interview or a presentation may last only a second, but it can permanently shape an impression. As someone who teaches future managers, I find this particularly important. Organizations spend enormous effort building cultures of trust, collaboration and psychological safety. Casual verbal aggression—even when unintended—works against these goals. Technical competence may help people enter organizations, but communication often determines whether they emerge as leaders.

This raises another obvious question: Why now? There is probably no single explanation.

Part of the answer may lie in identity signalling. Increasingly, profanity serves purposes beyond expressing anger. It signals authenticity, confidence, rebellion, informality and, sometimes, group membership. In many circles, not swearing can almost make one appear out of place. Social media has almost certainly accelerated the process. Outrage attracts attention, and digital platforms reward attention. Popular culture has also changed. Stand-up comedy, streaming platforms and online creators have made profanity more visible and, in many contexts, more acceptable. Political discourse has contributed as well. Brands, too, have increasingly embraced edgier language in the pursuit of authenticity, further blurring the boundary between casual expression and acceptable public discourse. When public figures routinely use abusive language, they do more than express anger; they redefine what society considers acceptable. Behavioural science reminds us that people rarely imitate ideas directly. More often, they imitate behaviour. This is not an argument for censorship or linguistic puritanism. Occasional swearing in moments of pain, surprise or frustration is part of being human. Nor is the objective to eliminate every cuss word from everyday speech. The concern is different. It is about the casual, habitual and increasingly public use of abusive language, even where it serves no purpose.

If the diagnosis is behavioural, the solution must also be behavioural. What, then, can we do about it? The answer lies not in policing words and more in rebuilding norms.

The first step is individual awareness. Most of us are unaware of how frequently we use certain expressions until someone points them out. Like any habit, language changes only when we become conscious of it.

Second, families continue to matter. Children learn language much more from observation than instruction. Parents who expect respectful communication must model it themselves.

Third, educational institutions and workplaces should treat respectful communication as a leadership skill rather than simply a matter of etiquette. We devote considerable attention to technical competence but comparatively little to the ability to disagree respectfully, regulate emotions and communicate professionally. Students spend years learning mathematics, finance and engineering. They spend remarkably little time learning how to disagree respectfully.

Finally, public figures—politicians, celebrities, influencers, sportspersons and media personalities—need to recognize the influence they wield. Whether they like it or not, they are role models. Their words do not end with a speech or a social media post; they become part of the behavioural norms that others adopt.

Somewhere along the way, we have also begun to equate profanity with authenticity and bluntness with courage. I am not convinced the two are related. Some of the most powerful speeches in history changed minds without relying on vulgarity. One can be passionate without being abusive, firm without being insulting and fearless without being crude.

The events at Jantar Mantar should not merely trigger another round of political debate. They should encourage us to reflect on a broader question: What kind of public discourse are we normalizing? Democracies need disagreement. They need criticism. They even need anger. But they do not need abuse.

Ultimately, every society gets the public discourse it gradually learns to tolerate. The language we normalize today becomes the culture we inherit tomorrow. If we want a society where disagreement is vigorous but respectful, we must pay greater attention not only to what we say, but also to how we choose to say it. After all, civility is not the absence of disagreement. It is the manner in which disagreement is expressed. / Daily World /

( The author is a Professor at IIM Indore. The views are personal.)