No Foolin’. Critical Thinking Can Still Be Funny.
As Oscar Wilde once said, “If you want to tell people the truth, make them laugh, otherwise they’ll kill you.” Comedy is a risky venture that takes insight into the world around us, the sensitivity necessary to take the temperature of an audience in short order, and the ability to wrap even the most troubling ideas in clever banter. In pursuit of snort laughs and applause, comedians say the difficult, complicated things the rest of us less-funny thinkers wish we could sneak into conversation.
The comedian as philosopher really isn’t anything new. 400 BCE, Aristophanes made a number of not-so-subtle political points with pieces like Lysistrata. Over five hundred years ago, Shakespeare was writing characters into his plays who were able to say the quiet part loud because they did so slightly inebriated, in pointy shoes and a hat with bells on it. Both writers, along with countless others, found ways to ingeniously call out all manner of human nonsense.
Jump to present day. Ali Wong is brutally honest about motherhood. Hannah Gadsby sheds much needed light on neurodiversity. Daniel Sloss dissects misogyny. Ronny Chieng calls us on cultural foibles. And George Carlin, Jon Steward, Stephen Colbert, Tina Fey, Trevor Noah, Margaret Cho, and so many more…there isn’t room to list here the brave souls who are willing to stick their foot in it. In some cases, they literally risk their livelihoods and their reputations every time they open their mouths.
So, here’s my big question for comedy, in the midst of our current topsy-turvy world: Has the role of a comedian changed? What exactly are they supposed to do, and for what do we hold them accountable?
Of course they’re supposed to make us laugh. They’re there to surprise and delight, to put a spotlight on all manner of silly things. This can be as direct as poop and fart jokes, or pies in the face. Think cartoon animals blowing each other up and falling off cliffs. There’s always been a place for laughter just for the sake of laughter, and most of us humans appreciate stolen moments of immaturity. There’s nothing wrong with a little simple catharsis once in a while. But there’s usually more to it than this.
The next step up the ladder involves pointing out the ups and downs of being human, all manner of cognitive dissonance, and the holes in the narrative we’re fed by the powers that be. They do us the kindness of wrapping our shortcomings in laughter, as opposed to just slapping us in the face and calling us idiots.
I think there’s more to it these days. Historically, maybe comedy levels up to match the complexity of life, grows more layers to meet what goes on around us. Comedy of “our time and place” seems to be getting a little more meta. It’s not just that comedians seem more willing to take risks with controversial material, but they’re beginning to turn their focus inward, to examine the inner workings of their own industry. They ask, more often than they used to, why something is funny, why a piece of information or an opinion deserves to be included in a set, why they should be the one to deliver it. Comedians at the moment seem much more willing to take responsibility, to check themselves.
They also seem more willing to check other comedians for bias, cognitive dissonance, and even cruelty. There have always been, and are presently, those in the business of laughter who score giggles by throwing those less fortunate and less powerful under the bus, while pointing and laughing. Punching downward has started to seem sloppy and lazy, the kind of thing a comedian would throw out there because they weren’t willing to be more clever or braver. Marc Maron recently commented “It’s one thing to pick on the vulnerable and marginalized, but they’re already down- why keep hitting them? Unless you’re a hack.” More and more, we’re hearing comedians ask each other “Really? You had to go there? You don’t have anything better than that?”
Comedians also seem to call each other into question with respect to the business end of comedy. They hold each other accountable for the venues at which they choose to perform, and the patrons from whom they accept paycheques, in addition to the views they choose to express. Is a person or organization opening the door for you as a funny person, but slamming it in someone else’s face?
Maybe this is why the industry is more inclusive, why there is more diversity among comedians themselves, on many different levels. There’s more room, more encouragement to question why one demographic dominates the mic, while another gets the later sets. Maybe audiences have developed a taste for variation in the stories that get told, the world views expressed.
Call it “wokeness” or hypersensitivity, if you must (I’ve never considered either of these to be a failing), but I think it’s more about follow-through. If it’s part of your job to think critically about our human failings, even in a funny way, you are responsible for finishing that job. If you’re going to make jokes about hate, you need to do it for all kinds of hate. If you’re going to try to make discrimination look foolish and pointless, you do so for all kinds of discrimination. If you can put other people’s words and behaviour under the microscope to see how nonsensical they are, you do it for your own words and behaviour. It’s not a bad thing to have these checks and balances. It’s actually quite skillful and rational.
This is the biggest part of a comedian’s role, and always has been: to be a model for their entire audience. There’s power in making people laugh. There are plenty of cheap chuckles up for grabs, but a comedian can also choose to demonstrate the potential of human minds to think critically. This is what all philosophers strive to do: to pull ideas apart, compare, contrast, improve. It’s a comedian’s job, as well as that of a philosopher, to get themselves, and the rest of us, into the right kind of trouble. A comedian is just much better at being funny about it.
To be really, truly funny, not just in a gross or cruel way, is exceptionally difficult. It requires painstaking thought, practice, honesty, and curiosity. Comedy is a skill, and it doesn’t just happen. In 2025, comedians are still dressing up the hard stuff in laughter, encouraging thought and discussion, taking careful notes on the cultures in which they live, and calling attention to what’s wrong and what’s right about them. I am so grateful, and have always been grateful, to those willing to use their talent for mirth to step into the most treacherous territory, to hold themselves and others to account, all with a smile on their faces.