The Final Word on Carl Levin's S-Bomb Tirade

(April 28) -- In terms of rhetoric, profanities serve two chief purposes. "They express emotions for the speaker and to the listener in a way that non-taboo words cannot," says Timothy Jay, a professor at Massachusetts College of Liberal Arts and author of "Why We Swear." "They also obviously get our attention." During Tuesday's contentious hearing of the Senate Permanent Subcommittee on Investigations, Sen. Carl Levin, D-Mich., treated observers to a tirade that did both.

Levin's epic blue streak was prompted by the testimony of several Goldman Sachs executives alleged to have sold what they knew to be a toxic $1 billion collateralized debt obligation to unwitting investors. While grilling the bankers, Levin quoted from a 2007 e-mail from one former Goldman exec describing the transaction, known as "Timberwolf," in decidedly unfavorable terms.

"Look what your sales team was saying about Timberwolf," said Levin, the committee chair, looking like a deadly serious Bob Newhart. "'Boy, that Timberwolf was one sh---y deal.' They sold that sh---y deal ... 'Boy, that timber was one sh---y deal.' How much of that sh---y deal did you sell to your clients? ... You didn't tell them you thought it was a sh---y deal ... You knew it was a sh---y deal ... How about the fact that you sold hundreds of millions on that deal after your people knew it was a sh---y deal? Does that bother you at all?"

All told, he used the s-word 11 times, prompting one wonk to note, "There's so much cussing in this proceeding, I don't know if I'm watching a Senate hearing or 'Treme.'"

Swearing is a hallowed tradition in politics, though it's generally done behind closed doors (on his personal tapes, Richard Nixon seemed to be attempting to set some kind of record for profanity). In some cases, swearing not meant to become public becomes public, causing some trouble for the issuer, who may find him or herself accused by moralizers of hastening the decline of the republic. Dick Cheney caught significant flack for telling Sen. Patrick Leahy to go fornicate with himself inside the Senate chamber; Vice President Joe Biden was caught on microphone telling President Barack Obama that the passage of health care reform was "a big [effing] deal;" and Sen. Jim Bunning told a fellow senator pleading that he cease his filibuster on extending unemployment benefits, "tough s---."

Being caught swearing is one thing. Deliberately swearing, in a committee hearing no less, is quite another. A search of congressional transcripts from the last 15 years shows that when a Congressperson or Senator does break into longshoremanese, certain informal guidelines are still observed. First, the swear is generally spoken in the form of quoting someone else's original cussing. This allows the user to harness the punch of the profanity, without coming across as profane.

The second (and by far trickier) use is swearing purely for effect -- to come across as truly angry about the issue at hand -- while at the same time making it seem like the bad word(s) just slipped out. In 2008, Sen. David Vitter, R-La., condemned automaker bailout efforts that gave the car companies federal money before they showed a viable business plan, saying "Isn't that, to use a common phrase, just ass backwards?" In 2001, Rep. Christopher Shays, R-Conn., sitting on a committee investigating FBI corruption in Boston, unloaded on a dirty and unremorseful agent whose actions led to the 30-year imprisonment of an innocent man: "You don't seem to give a s---. Excuse me. You don't seem to care." (Shays, it should be noted, later got caught screaming profanity at a Capitol police officer -- a less-effective use of public swearing.)

Levin's case falls into a gray area. He was quoting from evidence to make his case, but at the same time, he was clearly swearing both for emphasis and catharsis -- trying to make a point as committee chair, while at the same time showing constituents he was truly sincere in his disdain for the one organization in America more roundly hated than Congress. Was it effective? In terms of gaining him a lot of press it was. But strategically, he overplayed his hand.

That's because the biggest key to using profanity constructively in delicate situations is carefully picking your shots and employing a less-is-more approach. On CSPAN, you could hear a rustle of laughter after the first "sh---y deal." Levin knew that would be the response, and duly waited for it to subside, peering balefully over his reading glasses. The subsequent "sh---y deals," however, were met largely with silence (save for the sound of millions of hyphens tapped out by reporters seeking to cover the exchange without running afoul of decency standards). This suggested Levin had exhausted whatever rhetorical power the word carried. He got greedy, lazy.

Let this be a lesson to future committee chairs in these turbulent times: Sometimes just one sh---y deal is enough.