Do brands need to abide by the rules of decency? Are there seven words that advertisers must never use? What makes or breaks the word choices brands make?
On May 27, 1972, the great George Carlin took the stage at the Santa Monica Civic Auditorium and debuted his now-famous routine, “The Seven Words You Can Never Say On Television.” He was recording material for his upcoming album Class Clown, and not only did he delight his audience, but he also changed the way we look and listen to words. Depending on where you check, the English language has anywhere between 170,000 and one million words. So the question Carlin raised is, why, out of all those words, do people feel that these seven are the worst? These seven words are said to cause national disasters, a collapse of the government, and general mayhem in the streets. Why these seven? Why are they bad?
Why are any words bad?
As a writer and an actor, I have grown up loving words. All words. From the invectives hurled at me in the halls of middle school and high school, to the shouts at Fenway Park when the Sox played the Yankees, I have been in a constant and growing love affair with words. I never thought of any words as being bad.
Now, some words make me feel bad. Like the day I was walking down the hall, head down, minding my own miserable life, trying to get through the day with my books in my arms and my underwear not pulled up my ass crack so far it became a necktie. Someone hurled a “Hey, Fat!” at me. Yes, I winced and turned all shades of red, but deep inside, removed from my feelings, I couldn’t help but marvel at the simplicity and accuracy of the taunt. Not “hey fatso” or “hey, you fat bucket of lard.” Nope. Simple. Clean. Perfect: “Hey, fat.” Like my whole being embodied the word. So I lumbered along to my next class, secretly praising the oaf, Kenny Blake, for his precision in insult.
I know there were words we were told never to use, and that is fine; some words do not belong in our daily lexicon. But does that mean they are bad? Or just not appropriate for certain situations?
If you believe INXS, words are weapons, sharper than knives. Shakespeare proved it with cutting insults and thundering curses. All words have the power to hurt, to heal, to educate, to question, to open our eyes, and to mend our hearts. Words are powerful. Words are love. And words, when we hurt and see no way out, can support us like bones.
What about the words brands use? They certainly cannot use the “N” word in advertising, even though their target audience might be people who do use that word in their everyday lives. Do brands need to abide by the rules of decency? Are there seven words that advertisers must never use? What makes or breaks the word choices brands make?
Words in Society – Why Certain Words Are Taboo
We grow up learning that some words are dangerous. Not in the literal sense—you won’t spontaneously combust for saying “pumpernickel”—but in a social sense. Some words carry fireproof warning labels: taboo, forbidden, unmentionable. Carlin’s seven words became infamous not because they hurt the air, but because society decided they hurt us.
Cultural taboos around language are a fascinating blend of history, morality, and collective anxiety. Words have been censored, banned, and policed across centuries. The printing press prompted book burnings for heretical ideas. Radio stations required decency codes. Television shows were edited like surgical operations to remove offending syllables. Somewhere along the line, humanity decided that the right word in the wrong place could shatter fragile civilization.
Why does a society label a word “bad”? Sometimes it’s about power. Certain words threaten authority or social hierarchy. Sometimes it’s about empathy, like those words that wound, shame, or humiliate. And sometimes… it’s just a cultural quirk. Take words that might seem tame today but were scandalous a century ago, or slang that changes meaning with every generation. “Fool” used to be cutting. Now it barely raises an eyebrow.
Humor has always been an unlikely rebel. Comedians, poets, and satirists thrive in the gray zone where the “bad word” lives. Shakespeare, as any fan of King Lear knows, could construct a 50-word insult that stung sharper than any punch. Carlin merely held a mirror to our collective absurdity: “These are the words you cannot say—but why?”
Yet, the power of taboo words isn’t only in shock value. Words shape thought. The moment a word becomes forbidden, it gains an aura of danger and fascination. People whisper it in hallways, text it in secret, dare their friends to say it. That’s why the social rules of language are often broken—not from malice, but from curiosity, mischief, and the sheer joy of linguistic anarchy.
So, society tells us what not to say, but human nature finds a way. And in that tension between the forbidden and the permissible, words acquire their punch, their flavor, and their absurdity. Which brings us to why words matter deeply on a personal level—the moment they’re hurled at you, whispered about, or scrawled on a bathroom wall. (My name does not have a ‘w’ in it, Adam Spengler) They leave marks, visible or invisible, shaping who we are and how we move through the world.
We naturally land on personal stakes because, after all, the rules society imposes only matter once words collide with flesh and experience. The hallway insults, the shouted curses, the barbs of friends or strangers—these are where words move from abstract taboo to lived reality.
The Personal Stakes of Words
Some words stick with you because they are meant to. Some words land like a carefully aimed wedgie in middle school: sharp, unexpected, and entirely unforgettable. Picture it—me, head down, trudging through the hallways of junior high, books clutched like life rafts, and my underwear pulled up my ass crack so far it became a necktie. A perfectly executed wedgey courtesy of Kenny Blake.
I could have been furious, humiliated, or ready to cry. Fighting back was out of the question; I got out of breath when I passed gas. But somewhere in the absurdity of it all, I marveled at the precision, the artistry. “Hey, Fat!”—two words that cut like a chef’s knife, delivered with economy and perfect timing. In that moment, words were no longer abstract. They were physical, invasive, unavoidable. And yet, strangely, they were also instructive. They taught me resilience, timing, and a weird admiration for someone else’s commitment to mischief.
Words often carry more weight than physical pranks. A nickname, a curse, or even a compliment can linger longer than any bruise. Words reach under our skin, twist themselves into our self-image, and sometimes, in the weirdest way, they become part of our identity. I became, in some twisted sense, “Fat.” Not in shame, exactly, but in acknowledgment of the universe’s strange sense of humor.
And humor is a shield, a lens, a survival strategy. Words that hurt can also teach us to observe, to laugh at ourselves, to recognize absurdity. The moment words collide with flesh, with lived experience, they gain dimension. They transform from letters on a page into forces that shape perception, behavior, and even relationships.
Even today, the echo of those hallway insults reminds me of the power in choosing words wisely—or recklessly. We use words to protect, to wound, to build, to entertain. Some words are weapons, yes, but others are tools, scaffolding for empathy, humor, and connection. And the wedgey lesson of middle school lingers: precision counts, timing counts, absurdity counts, and sometimes, the punchline is unavoidable.
Which brings us to a broader question: if words wield such power in our personal lives, what happens when they are deployed at scale—by brands, by media, by society at large? How do organizations navigate the minefield of “appropriate” language while still trying to connect, entertain, or persuade? And, perhaps most importantly, what are the rules for the words you simply cannot use if you want to avoid chaos?
Words in Branding and Media
If words can wound or delight in middle school hallways, imagine the stakes when millions of people are listening—or reading—at once. Brands live in a world where a single word can spark applause, outrage, or a full-blown internet riot. Unlike the mischievous precision of a wedgey, corporate language is a careful game of dodgeball: one wrong word, and someone’s getting metaphorically pulled by the waistband.
Take advertising, for example. A brand cannot, will not, and legally should not use certain words, no matter how edgy or authentic they think they are. The “N” word? Off-limits. Profanity in general? Risky, unless it’s artfully disguised, like a clever pun or a wink from the margins. Even seemingly innocent words can backfire if context, timing, or tone is off. A word that lands as playful on a Tuesday morning might feel tone-deaf on a Wednesday afternoon.
Yet the absurdity of it all is that people love forbidden words. Think about the way marketing campaigns tease with almost-banned language. Humor and shock, carefully balanced, can make a message irresistible. A perfect illustration is Sim Jim’s infamous “Eat Me” campaign. Short, shocking, and delightfully absurd, the slogan grabbed attention instantly—part laugh, part gasp. Critics raised eyebrows, social media erupted, and the brand became the center of playful debate overnight. The campaign proves that words in branding are not inert—they ricochet through audiences, carrying emotional payloads far beyond what a legal team or focus group might predict. Humor, timing, and context can turn a simple phrase into a cultural moment, just as a hallway wedgie can transform two words into an unforgettable life lesson.
Brands walk this tightrope carefully. Missteps can humiliate, offend, or ignite scandal, while audacious absurdity can inspire loyalty, laughter, and virality. In other words, whether it’s “Eat Me” or “Hey, Fat!” words have power. They reach, sting, delight, and linger. They shape perception, culture, and sometimes, entire industries.
Which brings us to the bigger picture: if brands must wield words with such precision and care, what about media and society at large? News outlets, social media, and entertainment juggle the same forces, often magnified a thousandfold. Words don’t just land—they ricochet, echo, and sometimes explode. In that chaos, language becomes both a tool and a weapon, a way to connect and a way to divide, and a reminder that the absurdity of human communication is never far away.
Ethics and Responsibility of Words at Scale
Words are power, but with power comes responsibility. And with that, I will pack myself into my Spider-Man costume and thwip my web and … “Hey fat!” Whether in a hallway, a marketing campaign, or on the front page of a global news outlet, words carry consequences. A single utterance can uplift, wound, clarify, confuse, or provoke chaos. And yet, despite the obvious weight of language, we often act as if words are harmless—until someone explodes in the comments section or a tweet goes viral in the wrong way.
Consider media, journalism, and social platforms. Editors, writers, and content creators constantly weigh impact versus freedom. A headline can inform, mislead, or incite. A joke can delight, alienate, or accidentally weaponize a cultural trope. Words that seem trivial in a private conversation—an edgy joke, a playful insult—can become a tidal wave once amplified through media. A careless phrase can spark outrage, litigation, or even social shaming, while careful language can calm tensions, clarify facts, and inspire empathy.
Brands and individuals alike face the absurdity of these stakes every day. A misused word can bring instant backlash, while the right word at the right time can resonate for years. The difference often comes down to awareness, context, and intention. Just like a prankster measuring the precise tug of a wedgie, a thoughtful communicator understands the power, potential, and peril of words.
Ethics in communication isn’t about restricting expression; it’s about understanding the ripple effect of language. When you choose words, you choose how people feel, what they believe, and sometimes how they act. Words can amplify justice, highlight absurdity, or dismantle falsehoods. They can also deceive, humiliate, or reinforce prejudice. The responsibility lies in navigating this delicate balance: honoring freedom of expression while recognizing the very real consequences words can carry.
At the same time, the absurd cannot be ignored. Humor, satire, and playfulness are essential tools for conveying truth without trauma. Even in high-stakes environments, the ability to embrace absurdity—like Carlin’s seven forbidden words, or Sim Jim’s cheeky campaigns—keeps communication human. It reminds us that language, while serious, is also a playground where creativity, rebellion, and joy collide.
So, whether you are a writer, a brand manager, or just someone walking down a hallway, the question isn’t simply which words are “bad” or “forbidden.” It’s which words you choose to wield—and what you do with the reactions they provoke. Words are never neutral, but neither are they inherently cruel. They are tools, weapons, playgrounds, and instruments of connection all at once. And understanding that duality allows us to navigate life, culture, and communication with precision, humor, and heart.
From the micro-level of personal insults to the macro-level of global campaigns, we begin to see that human language exists in tension: absurd and profound, playful and dangerous, liberating and binding. And in that tension, words find their meaning—and their power.
Summing Up
So, what have we learned about words? They are absurd, dangerous, hilarious, and essential all at once. From Carlin’s seven forbidden words to the precision of a well-timed wedgie, from the audacity of Sim Jim’s “Eat Me” campaign to the headlines that ripple through social media, words never exist in isolation. They collide with experience, with culture, with our very bodies, leaving impressions both visible and invisible.
Words shape identity and perception, delight and wound, entertain and instruct. They are weapons, instruments of justice, tools of persuasion, and vehicles for humor. They are the sticky notes on our personal histories, the graffiti on society’s walls, and the careful punctuation in brand messaging. And yet, despite their weight, words retain a playful absurdity—a reminder that human communication is never wholly serious, never entirely predictable, and always alive.
The key is not censorship or fear, but awareness. To wield words effectively is to understand their potential, their context, and their consequences. It’s to know when to shock and when to soothe, when to delight and when to educate. It’s to embrace the absurd, the humorous, and the unexpected, while never losing sight of the stakes words carry.
And so, as we navigate our own conversations, campaigns, and cultural moments, let us remember that no single word is inherently “bad,” just as no gesture is inherently harmless. Every word, every utterance, every joke carries weight. Every laugh, every gasp, every shiver of discomfort tells a story. Words are power, absurdity, and love rolled into one. They are the tools we use to mark our presence in the world—and, when we wield them with thought, precision, and a little humor, they can lift, connect, and endure.
In the end, perhaps the real lesson is this: words are absurd, powerful, and human. They are everything and nothing, a wedgie and a wonder, a curse and a caress. And if we learn to pay attention, laugh a little, and wield them wisely, we may just find ourselves ready for whatever the next sentence brings.
