B******* to that – let Krishnan Guru-Murthy say what he likes

The way it’s been portrayed, anyone would think that the popular Channel 4 News presenter Krishnan Guru-Murthy had gone up to a random stranger in the street and barrelled a foul-mouthed tirade at that them for no reason.

He didn’t. He used the c-word – admittedly one of the more powerful weapons in the swearing armoury – as an aside, after a slightly fraught interview with the hard man of the Brexit right: Steve Baker.

Baker has the kind of tough biker-in-a-leather-jacket image that Norman Tebbit used to enjoy, and an encounter with Channel 4 News, unfairly demonised by the right, was always going to have a bit of an edge to it. Baker, while a rather gentle man – and a Christian – does relish lively debate, even by a politician’s standards. Evidently, that was what preceded KGM’s brief outburst.

Thus, we hear KGM, out of shot, chucking a few parting words in the minister’s direction: “It wasn’t a stupid question Steve, you know it, I’m very happy to go up against you on trust any day. (Giggles). What a c***.”

The word wasn’t used on air (a rather important point) – and Baker didn’t hear it. It was merely captured in a “hot mic” moment.

It seems unarguable that it was a private remark – albeit made in a public place – but it is still unremarkable. It wasn’t “political” as such, and didn’t prove bias; but was KGM expressing how he felt about having his professionalism – “stupid question” – impugned.

We all have views on the people we meet. We should be forgiven for such moments of frustration and irritation. What if KGM went home and told his wife he’d had a real f**** of a day”, dealing with a load of “Tory t****”, “w****** on” about how great Liz Truss is; rather like the Viz character “Roger Mellie the man on the telly”. Would anyone be surprised – or care?

In any case, KGM publicly apologised via Twitter, saying: “After a robust interview with Steve Baker MP I used a very offensive word in an unguarded moment off air. While it was not broadcast that word in any context is beneath the standards I set myself and I apologise unreservedly.”

Seems fair enough, and Baker later accepted it. However, in true Tory U-turn fashion, that was only after he’d called for KGM to be fired. In an interview with Times Radio, the MP said that sacking the presenter would be a “service to the public” if he was found to be in breach of his code of conduct.

“I had an interview earlier with a journalist I don’t have a great deal of regard for who I felt was misrepresenting the situation through the construction of his question, which I called out, I think live on air, or I thought it was a pre-record,” he said. “And he clearly didn’t like that, quite right, too. But I’d be quite honest, I spent a long time live on air, calling him out on his conduct as a journalist and glad to do so any time.”

Silly sod, you might say.

As superbly captured in The Thick of It, politics and journalism have always been two of the sweariest occupations, and those of a nervous disposition should probably try for the Church or nursery work instead (though I’m sure clerics and teachers have their moments).

Newsrooms are tamer places these days, in my experience; but I well recall one of our editors who really couldn’t get through a sentence with a few f-words and the odd c-word. And that was when he was in editorial conference. When on deadline, you’d think he’d been chosen for the swearing Olympics. Sometimes – confusingly – the coarsest of epithets would be used as ironic terms of affection or respect for cronies. Crudity is a subtle business.

I think the point here is that the Sweary Marys of these trades deploy such language on a near indiscriminate basis. Leaving aside close members of their own families (usually: messy divorces might be an exception), bad language is applied to friend and foe quite indiscriminately, because socialists and Greens can be just as unpleasant or treacherous as Tories (or indeed police officers, vicars and senior business people).

They will all get called the c-word from time to time, though usually well out of earshot.

One of the most sweary people in public life is his majesty the King. Possibly because of his time in the Royal Navy, rumours abound that he does indeed swear like a sailor. According to the gossip, for example, he has described his own Harry’s early infatuation with the gorgeous Meghan Markle by saying the boy was “c*** struck”, like love struck but, well, more basic. We also have the excruciatingly embarrassing Camilla “tampon-gate” tapes from some years ago that also attest to his regal earthiness, with him talking a bit dirty to his (then) mistress, (now) Queen Consort.

The more fundamental problem is what you might call the devaluation of some of swearing’s gilt-edged words. The c-word should arguably be reserved for the most heinous of behaviour.

Witnessing its increasingly casual use is – to those of us who to try to curate our swearing – slightly distressing, because what then do you turn to for real shock value? You cannot just reach for the c-word because you’ve missed your train or someone’s jumped the queue. It’s disproportionate.

You might use something like “b*******”, or mother******, perhaps; though that usually feels silly because it makes it seem like you’re trying to be the Joe Pesci character in Goodfellas.

Another solution for effective contumely is to recycle and rehabilitate the more archaic terms now dying out, like the aforementioned “sod”, “git”, “b******”, “knob/knobend”, “unworthy cur” or even “damn fool”; the very novelty of which can now be paradoxically more striking, forceful and funny.

Calling someone a “daft bugger” might no longer be possible, though “daft ha’porth” has a nice heritage feel to it.

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We do need to ration the swearing a bit before it completely loses its force and we find someone being called a “c***” at a state funeral. The f-word is used far too often on television, which is a problem because it means it’s in danger of losing its charm. That’s why Miriam Margoyles’s outburst about Jeremy Hunt on the Today programme was such a shame; she should have been much more eloquent in her profanity.

More than a century ago, the f-word was never heard on TV (though the student Margoyles had apparently said it on an episode of University Challenge).

When the writer Johnny Speight created his comedy bigot Alf Garnett, an east-end docker, he wanted to make him a bit more realistic. The BBC management allowed him six “bloodys” per episode, and he usually called his wife a “silly moo” rather than a “cow”; but a few decades on and the extreme swearing is everywhere. I can still remember Billy Connolly declaring that he’d “put the c*** into country music”; a minor turning point in the history of our civilisation.

The Thick of It had a special swearing consultant to help Armando Ianucci’s Malcolm Tucker modulate his use of violent language to precisely the right creative pitch. To my mind, we need a bit more craft being applied to our swearing. It’s a f****** mess at the moment.