THE University of Keele occupies a beautiful parkland campus nestling between the M6 and Newcastle-under-Lyme in the county of Staffordshire.

It has the distinction of being the first new UK university of the last century, and boasts that its alumni obtain some of the best academic and employment rates in the country’

Keele is also the UK’s largest integrated campus university, set in a 617-acre estate around the 19th-century Keele Hall. This grade II-listed architectural gem sits as counterpoint to the university’s more modern buildings constructed from the distinctive Staffordshire blue brick – the same material employed in the Jersey Evening Post’s very own reception area at Five Oaks.

In the manner of all such organisations, Keele University has a mission statement – just in case there was any confusion as to what it does. Its mission is to be recognised as the leading example of an open, integrated intellectual community, aiming among a list of objectives to ‘place a high value on interdisciplinary education and research’.

Alongside the usual academic activities, the campus has a science park, conference facilities, a staff of 1,700 and a turnover of more than £102 million.

With such an impressive reputation to live up to, you would expect that when the university made headlines around the world last week, it would have been because of some lofty academic achievement. Far from it. Either the tutors had run out of ideas or wanted to justify the cost of buying an ice-making machine. The story that flashed around the globe was the result of a study to prove that swearing can result in pain relief.

No doubt if Jeremy Clarkson hadn’t already put his foot in his mouth with his suggestion to shoot strikers, he would have had something equally controversial to say on the subject

Exactly how did the handsomely paid and highly educated staff with many letters after their names test their theory? By subjecting guinea pigs to trial by iced water.

Before animal liberationists and vegans get hot under their ethically manufactured collars, no real guinea pig was frozen during the trials, and we can assume that hard-pressed under-graduates willingly subjected themselves to these chilling tests to help to pay off students loans.

The research was conducted by senior lecturer Dr Richard Stephens and Claudia Umland, of Keele’s School of Psychology, and replicated his findings of 2009, which showed that people can withstand an ice-cold challenge for longer by repeatedly swearing compared to reciting a neutral word.

However, it isn’t quite as simple as that. As with everything in life, familiarity breeds contempt. To get the maximum pain relief from a burst of swearing, curse words should not be a constant feature of conversational skills.

Dr Stephens and Ms Umland found that people who did not swear regularly could hold their hands in iced-cold water for 140 seconds if they swore at the same time – which was twice as long as if they did not swear while their hands were submerged.

When it came to subjects who swore up to 60 times a day, they could only sustain the water torture for 120 seconds while resorting to foul language.

As Dr Stephens said: ‘Our research suggests that swearing is a useful part of language that can help us to express strong emotions or react to high-pressure situations. However, it would be wise only to swear in moderation, as the over-use of swearing seems to water down this effect.’ (Excuse the pun.)

This just about sums up our crazy little blue-green planet as this turbulent year careers towards a car crash conclusion. We are in economic meltdown, unemployment is rising to record levels and, most alarming of all, politicians are dithering and exhibiting vulnerability when the crisis demands bold leadership.

But hey ho, at least we can say with some degree of confidence that repeatedly uttering four-letter words in common usage since the Anglo-Saxons populated our sceptred isles can help those who want to stick their hands in iced water for prolonged periods of time.

Excuse me while I fill a bucket with water, empty the contents of the ice cube tray into it and submerge my head.

It was our Norman ancestors who got the Anglo-Saxons to clean up their language – which was no bad thing in the day of the ducking stool. The Normans, being a somewhat superior breed, looked down on the cursing locals. So, if you were around in the aftermath of the Norman Conquest and wanted to appear cultured, educated and acceptable to the new ruling class, swearing was an absolute social no-no.

As someone who can trace my ancestry back down both routes, I have to admit that the Anglo-Saxon blood that courses strongly through my veins, makes its presence known in my vocabulary.

My lineage was evident for all within range to hear when Environment’s Energy Efficiency team unveiled its latest initiative: the Jersey heat loss map. Did we really need a study such as this to prove the bleeding obvious – that the States Building has substantial heat loss levels?

Sometimes, manna from heaven for the media comes on gold plates, tasting like nectar from the gods and going down as smoothly as a fine malt on a cold winter’s night.

It doesn’t matter how much insulation may be packed into the roof above the States Chamber – nothing in the world could contain all that hot air!