Caffeinated Politics

There is a whole world of words available to anyone willing to open a dictionary, yet somehow Ohio Senator Sen. Bernie Moreno reached for the same tired expletive in Wednesday’s hearing on Capitol Hill.

The latest example came during a Senate hearing called by Republicans to show they had hair on their chest as they squared off against Anthony Fauci. The Senate Homeland Security Committee held an oversight hearing over allegations that the doctor was part of a cover-up to conceal the origins of COVID-19 and had funded research in China that could have caused the outbreak. Fauci denies those allegations. On the advice of his attorney, Fauci took the Fifth Amendment and continued in that fashion for the three hours of the hearing. Well, that made Republicans, as Politico reported, very, very mad.

So, in the middle of this farce, which was a mindless partisan performance by Republicans, Moreno, one of their members, barked, “Who the **** do you think you were”? Low-brow. Low-class.

Let’s be clear. The hearing wasn’t designed to illuminate anything, resolve anything, or inform anyone. It was a partisan stage, and the shouting was the show. But even within that low bar, the use of profanity stood out. When a senator feels so aggrieved by a person taking the fifth that he resorts to the F word, it tells us something unsettling about the state of our political bloodstream.

Parents often wonder why our national language feels so trashy, why kids toss around words once reserved for the back of the school bus. Well, when elected officials treat vulgarity as a legitimate rhetorical tool, the rest of the country takes note. If a senator can say it into a microphone during a hearing broadcast on national television, why shouldn’t a teenager say it at the dinner table? Why shouldn’t a neighbor shout it across the yard? Why shouldn’t it slip into everyday civic conversation like a weed through a sidewalk crack, of the type I sprayed for this afternoon?

Before any reader says it, let me address it. The problem isn’t prudishness on my part or on that of anyone who doesn’t approve of that word in our national conversation.

Profanity in public discourse is not a mark of strength; it’s a symptom of decay. When a senator or official drops the F‑word in a hearing, it doesn’t project passion but clearly broadcasts a failure of discipline. The word itself is crude, corrosive, and intellectually lazy, a verbal shortcut that replaces argument with shock. In a setting meant for reasoned debate and civic respect, profanity drags the conversation into the gutter, signaling that emotion has overtaken intellect. Language is the architecture of thought, and when it is vandalized with vulgarity, it demonstrates ignorance.

As a former radio broadcaster, I take language seriously. The owner of the station where I worked in Door County was a former WGN radio broadcaster. It was obvious we did not curse on the air, so the point Ed Allen, Sr. stressed was how certain words were enunciated and projected over the airwaves. When working in the state assembly for a decade, dealing with people needing to be influenced or voters back home needing assistance, cursing was the very last thing to be considered. It was never tolerated in our legislative office. (The state representative was going to be a priest at one time and his wife a nun. The Hallmark movie of their meeting and marriage is yet to be written by yours truly.)

My concern about language, I suppose, starts with my growing up with radio (no television in my early formative years) and the way I came to hear words and their messages, be they ads for a product, the news, or the banter a disc jockey had with a radio audience. Words really matter.

Having watched our political culture collapse, I am rightly concerned that our language in hearing rooms and on the campaign trail is becoming so scorched that nothing meaningful can grow in it. A democracy needs to fear such a place.

The English language offers thousands of ways to challenge, confront, criticize, and demand accountability. Choosing the F word in a moment of political theater is corrosive. We can’t afford that. Not now. Not ever.