With champagne flutes clinking, camera flashes bouncing off polished floors, and nominees adjusting tuxedo cuffs with that odd blend of nerves and entitlement, the Royal Festival Hall was glistening as it always does on BAFTA night. It was supposed to be a party. Rather, it evolved into something much more intricate.
A racial slur was yelled by the audience during the 2026 BAFTA Film Awards as actors Michael B. Jordan and Delroy Lindo were on stage giving out awards. The voice belonged to John Davidson, a Scottish Tourette’s campaigner whose life served as the basis for the evening’s nominee, the biographical film I Swear. Many people in the room could not help but notice the word hanging in the air.
| Category | Details |
|---|---|
| Name | John Davidson |
| Known For | Tourette syndrome campaigner; inspiration for film I Swear |
| Honor | MBE (2019) |
| Event | British Academy Film Awards 2026 |
| Controversy | Involuntary racial slur shouted during ceremony |
| Broadcaster | BBC |
| Official BAFTA Site | https://www.bafta.org |
The audience might have been uncertain about what they had heard for a brief moment, perhaps even two. Coughs, laughter, and off-mic muttering are all part of the messy nature of live ceremonies. However, this was not like the others. The performers on stage remained composed and completed the performance without acknowledging it. It’s difficult to overlook their discipline when watching videos later—shoulders squared, eyes forward.
Davidson suffers from Tourette syndrome, a neurological disorder marked by both physical and vocal involuntary tics. Coprolalia, a symptom of those tics, can occasionally involve the use of offensive language. According to advocacy groups, between 10% and 30% of individuals with Tourette’s syndrome have this form. It’s not deliberate. It isn’t selected.
The moment nevertheless struck like a hammer.
The slur was not edited from the BBC’s two-hour late transmission of the BAFTAs, which is delayed. The video appeared on BBC iPlayer and stayed up all night. Social media was exploding with outrage by morning. Why the producers didn’t bleep it was a question raised by critics. Politicians had their say. Industry leaders referred to it as a “dreadful error.”
Two conversations seem to have started at the same time. One dealt with race and the trauma associated with that word. The other focused on the fact that tics are involuntary and disabilities. There was very little space for simple solutions when those facts collided.
Soon after, Davidson released a statement in which he expressed his deep embarrassment if anyone thought his tics were deliberate or indicative of his beliefs. In order to prevent causing more distress, he left the ceremony early and watched the rest from backstage. It’s hard to imagine how that exit from the auditorium must have felt, with the cheers trailing behind him and the joy giving way to embarrassment.
Tourette’s charities swiftly defended him, stating that vocal tics are not a reflection of a person’s personality. According to one organization, “they are not a reflection of a person’s beliefs, intentions, or character.” They’re correct, too. Neurology does not compromise on manners.
Actors like Jamie Foxx, however, have openly questioned whether the word could actually be inadvertent. His frank and doubtful remark echoed the sentiments of many viewers. It’s still unclear if this skepticism stems from a lack of understanding of the condition or from the straightforward challenge of balancing the idea of involuntary speech with the violent nature of the word.
Jordan and Lindo received a “unreserved” apology from the BAFTA organization. For failing to edit the broadcast, the BBC issued an apology. Neither was able to provide an all-encompassing solution. Authenticity is essential for live television, but it also needs to be curated. It feels particularly precarious now where that line lies.
It’s difficult to overlook how the controversy overshadowed I Swear’s actual accomplishments. The Rising Star Award and Best Actor went to Robert Aramayo for his portrayal of Davidson. He called Davidson “the most remarkable man I’ve ever met” in his acceptance speech and urged compassion for those who have Tourette’s syndrome. Though maybe tinged with discomfort, the ensuing applause felt genuine.
Theoretically, promoting inclusion is simple. In reality, it becomes more difficult, particularly when vulnerability is revealed on a global scale through inclusion. According to reports, attendees were alerted by BAFTA to Davidson’s presence and the potential for strong language. However, being prepared doesn’t lessen the impact.
The larger cultural background is important. There has been a long-overdue examination of language, representation, and race in the entertainment sector. Disability advocacy has simultaneously battled for awareness and compassion. Friction is nearly inevitable where those movements meet.
It seems like the industry is still learning how to hold several truths at once as we watch this develop. that even when a word is unintentional, it can still be extremely damaging. Impact and intention don’t always line up perfectly.
The dust is still in the air. BAFTA has committed to a thorough review. The BBC is reviewing its broadcasting procedures. For his part, Davidson is still pushing for greater awareness of Tourette’s syndrome, albeit in a more negative light.
The purpose of award ceremonies is to celebrate narrative. It’s possible that this year’s most impactful story wasn’t even written. Millions of people watching at home and a room full of polished professionals were forced to face something uncomfortable when it suddenly and unpredictably came to light.
Here, there are no simple villains. There was only a complex human moment that was still reverberating in a hall that had anticipated cheers, magnified by cameras and history.





