About Humour. Seriously.

Why is humour considered hard and the shelves remain relatively bare while other genres of creative output abound? What makes some countries and cultures a fertile ground for expression of humour?

There is something about people with a sense of humour. What they see and how they say it amuses me. They lighten a heavy dreary day. They fascinate me, intrigue me. Why are some people gifted so, while others can’t seem to be able to tease a laugh out even in the most comic circumstances?

Wit, sarcasm, exaggeration, inversion of logic, mirroring, analogy, mimicking, …the tools used are numerous – each, a means to convey the person’s unique way of perceiving, processing and communicating – a means to confront the comical, the painful, the illogical, and the inevitable that the cycle of life and death unerringly throws at us.

There is self-deprecating, laconic, sardonic, wry, pun-ny, the error story, ridicule, theatrical, slapstick, … are there more labels for humour? Humour evokes guffaws, the surge of mirth, full throated laughter, the giggles, the barely suppressed smiles and occasionally, no more than a flash of recognition in the eye when the humour speaks to a profound truth.

A sense of humour is a great companion. Many a treacherous stretch in life’s path will probably be less troubling if one can find something to have a laugh about even in dire situations. I would argue that organically discovering the humorous in one’s situation is distinct from humour that is engineered by crafting a context, animating it and drawing you into it – the episodes of manufactured comedy offering temporary relief, a vicarious engagement with one’s own burning issues or a temporary suspension of reality, the antacid to our heartburn, a welcome escape and placebo for what ails us. The former bolsters character, the latter pads the watch list.

But give me one who is an archive of jokes, one-liners and comic acts than a dull and dour busy-bee or a beast of burden who has made the world’s woes their own and feeling so weighed down as to not allow for one light moment.

A sense of humour is a gift. But it can also become a burden. Or even a weapon.

Here’s why –

The one with a sense of humour is sensitive and wise, sees what is not apparent to others and is quick to distil the essential in everything. They see beauty and the absurd, the bigger picture, and therefore also the vanity and futility of egotistical claims. They know the truth and are courageous in offering it, cleverly disguising and rations the poignancy of the moment, so people may experience its full import over time. Being clever or witty add colour and engages the intellect.

A sense of humour is born of insight, and an ability to bear one’s own struggles, pain, and sorrow with a light touch. To see the funny side, is to look deeply, not superficially. A sense of humour is attractive and is admired, for the element of surprise that it invariably springs. It is sometimes feared, for it wraps the truth in a gossamer-like layer of laughs; it is hard for people to pretend that they don’t get it or ignore. 

A sense of humour challenges you to straddle the perilous line between respect for another and irreverence, between sensitivity to another and fidelity to your truth, between expression and exercising discretion.

Cultivating humour is to take a location and a view that is often against (out of step with?) the run of play. It lets truth shine a light and dislodge you from your cozy confines, draws you out from the shadows, confirms that your unease has sound basis, calls out your pretence, lays bare what hides behind political correctness, and busts your bombast. Those with a sense of humour are therefore much sought after but also sometimes dreaded. They invite attacks and appreciation, and sometimes labelled dangerous, inviting censure, the odd jail term, and even death threats. Those with a sense of humour are an endangered species.

A sense of humour is handy in tense, difficult or awkward circumstances – many a tense situation eases and relief travels around the room when humour lands, and a new dynamic emerges. Doubtless, it is a risky venture. Humour favours the brave!

However, just as much as humour can be disarming stress reliever, it can be a deadly exercise of power at another’s expense through subtle jibes or savage shaming, where the target, fearful of consequences, remains mute in the face of ridicule and humiliation. The gift of humour thus becomes a weapon in the hands of a self-centred and punitive one shooting from behind the security of position power and privilege

I grew up with the adage ‘Laughter is the best medicine’. Humour’s therapeutic merits aside, it’s utility in social, professional settings are worth exploring and deserves unreserved backing. In organizations, I believe that humour cements bonds and teaming, helps deal with stresses and offers replenishment, serves as a great source of diagnostic insights. It is an effective antidote for pomposity, and a moderating influence on the bullshit quotient.