IT has been a busy week for the asterisk. The poor little fellow has been flying all over our newspapers, even appearing in the Times' main front page headline.

It has been called upon to cover up the deficiencies in Alastair Campbell's vocabulary. His diary, revealed to the Hutton Inquiry, showed how he wished to stymie Andrew Gilligan. Only Mr Campbell used a word that was more expressive and explosive than 'stymie'.

Readers of the left-wing Guardian and Independent know exactly which word because it was displayed, quite large, on their front pages. Sky News also apparently said it. But readers of the right-wing Daily Mail won't have a clue, because their front pages only contained four asterisks.

Readers of all papers in between, including The Northern Echo, had to work it out like a crossword clue: starting with 'f' and followed by three asterisks. The BBC was similarly elusive: "eff dot dot dot", said their reporter.

But, of course, everyone knows. No matter how many asterisks are used to hide the word's identity, it is in everybody's head as they are reading it. The letters, their shapes, its ugly sound - all are there, so it is curious that it is not on everybody's page.

Even more curious is that readers of left-wing newspapers are not going be offended by seeing it in its full four-letter glory, whereas readers of right-wing papers will be so outraged that they must be shielded from it.

The word seems to come from Latin (futuere, which was slang for 'to copulate'), via Old German (facken, to penetrate) and into Dutch where they still say 'fokken' for 'to breed'.

In English, the Scots were the first to pick it up. Its use has always been beyond the pale although it wasn't until the 18th century that it became wholly unacceptable.

But, just like today's asterisks, we've always dared ourselves to say it. In the Dark Ages, rapists were apparently branded on their foreheads with the acronym of their crime: "forced unlawful carnal knowledge". Similarly, during times of plague when the population desperately needed restocking, people joked that they were "fornicating under command of the king".

During the Second World War, with American military acronyms fashionable, people avoided the word by adopting initials: NFW was a very definite "no way", and SNAFU was the ironic "situation normal - all f***ed up". Ironically, from Snafu comes the mildest-mannered of all four-letter words: "naff". Or ****, if you're easily offended.

THE art of swearing means there is only one winner from the Hutton Inquiry: Mr Campbell. He has been largely vindicated of the specific crimes Mr Gilligan alleged. He has left a job he's been wanting out of for at least two years. He's put in a cameo appearance in the Great North Run raising potloads of cash for charity. And he's plugged his diary which will be frank, colourful, controversial, revealing and extremely lucrative.

THE word before the word in question in the dictionary is 'fucivorous'. Someone who eats meat is a carnivore, someone who eats plants is a herbivore and someone who eats seaweed is a fucivore. Sadly, as I've never met anyone who dines solely at a Chinese restaurant with an incredibly limited menu, it is a word I'll never get to use.