Conversations about profanity always amuse me because of the ever-changing nature of it.
'Twas a time when David O. Selznick had to vehemently defend his use of a “profanity” in Gone With the Wind. (“Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn.”) I’ve read the memo that he wrote, demonstrating eith definitions and examples of non-profane usage that “damn” was not profanity. He ended up just paying the fine. I’m sure there were many “concerned parents” who probably had a fit about it.
'Twas a time when “bloody” was a foul word. (And it still is in some areas.)
'Twas a time when “swive” was a filthy way of saying “sex”-- the equivellent of “fuck.”
'Twas a time when “piss” was not a “bad word.” Hell, the King James version of the Bible uses it twice that I know of: “Kill all who piss against the wall.” (Kill all the men.)
'Twas a time when it was “obscene” to mention body parts, eliminatory functions or sex even on vague terms. (Which is why we have terms like “white meat” and “dark meat” so that one doesn’t have to sully themselves by saying “thigh” or-- God help you–“breast.”) Books containing sex scenes, even if they were never narrated, were banned. Television shows weren’t allowed to show couples in the same bed, or an image of a toilet. There once was intense debate over whether to show Jeannie’s belly button.
Words and images have only the power which is granted to them by the listener. Society will not crumble if a word is “normalized” and we do a fine job of corsening ourselves even with the FCC “protecting” us from today’s naughty words or from seeing a nipple. (French children must have to be shielded from looking at money which has an image Liberty on it.)
As Phantom Dennis said, trying to sheild children from profanity is like trying to sheild then from the color blue. They’re going to hear it. They’re going to see boobies. The only variable is the parents’ reaction. Screaming, “No, Johnny, that’s a filthy, horrible word which you must never say!” gives the word a witchy and intoxicating power and virtually guarantees he’s going to want to say it at every opprotunity. Calmy saying, “That’s not a word you should use in polite company,” robs it of its “forbidden, naughty” power.
As an aside, I remember the first time I said “shit” in front of my very lady-like grandmother. She just looked at me and said, “What was that you said, dear?” as if she didn’t hear me. I was embarassed and didn’t say that word in front of her again for* years.*