This is a question asked of many comedy writers.
Comedy is often described as a reflection of real life, but the best jokes do more than just mirror reality—they expose its hidden truths. At the core of humour is the paradox the ultimate contradiction: we laugh at the very things that cause us discomfort. But why? This is not funny at all.
Take a classic joke setup—a man falls from a skyscraper, and at the 33rd floor, someone asks, “How’s it going?” He replies, “So far, so good.”
The Joke works because it acknowledges an uncomfortable reality (he’s in danger) while adding an unexpected, detached perspective. The joke doesn’t change the fact that the situation is dire, but it allows us to process the discomfort in a way that feels safe.
Laughter, in this sense, is a coping mechanism, Nah I’m only joking. By distancing ourselves from painful truths, we gain a new perspective. Very similar to watching old episodes of the Jerry Springer Show or being a Roman Citizen watching Christians being ridiculed and thrown to the Lions, it always funnier when the jokes are targeting the “other” the underdog, I vividly recall growing up and listening to Irish and Ginger Jokes, my best friends was a ginger and the Jokes were so much funnier but as I grew up I heard the same jokes but targeting Indians, Pakistanis and Bengalis, they suddenly became racist and they no longer seemed funny at all. Comedy by its very nature is Cruel.
But as Anthony Robbins the Billionaire Life Coach said “Life is all about Pleasure and Pain and as a species we are attracted to pleasure and shy away from pain”.
Comedy is the contrast the catharsis, the big brother that grabs you by the scruff of the neck and makes you watch all the uncomforting truths.
Some of the greatest comedians have a unique ability to dissect difficult subjects—politics, relationships, the very fabric of society itself and take their audience along for the journey.
Take, George Carlin he was a master at exposing uncomfortable truths. He famously joked,
“The reason they call it the American Dream is because you have to be asleep to believe it.”
His comedy forced audiences to confront political and societal illusions, but they laughed because he presented it in a way that was palatable—even if the underlying message was unsettling.
Another example is Richard Pryor, who used his personal struggles with addiction and race to craft brutally honest yet hilarious stories. His joke about setting himself on fire while freebasing cocaine—
“When you’re on fire and running down the street, people will get out of your way”—turned a near-tragic moment into something universally relatable. Pryor’s genius was in making audiences laugh at his pain while also allowing them to connect with it.
Comedy’s Inherent Cruelty
But there’s another side to this: comedy is often cruel. The person slipping on a banana peel isn’t laughing; the audience is. The humour lies in watching someone fall, especially if they seem to deserve it. When someone in power is knocked down a peg, we laugh because it reinforces a sense of justice. This dynamic is why satire thrives—it exposes hypocrisy by making the high and mighty
appear foolish.
Satirical shows build humour around this very idea. They highlight the absurdities of political figures, corporate greed, or cultural trends, making powerful individuals the butt of the joke. The audience laughs because there is an inherent satisfaction in seeing those in control humbled.
Similarly, classic slapstick comedy relies on physical misfortune. Consider Charlie Chaplin’s “Little Tramp” character, who often found himself in humiliating situations. The audience laughed not only at his missteps but at the social commentary embedded in them—his struggles represented the hardships of the working class, making his comedic suffering both relatable and cathartic.
Yet, comedy must tread carefully. Making fun of an adversary might feel justified, but when humor turns personal—targeting friends or loved ones—it risks becoming harmful. The best comedians understand this balance, often turning the lens on themselves. By making fun of their own flaws, they allow audiences to laugh without guilt.
Consider self-deprecating comedians like John Mulaney. They often make jokes at their own expense, where Mulaney talks about his past struggles with addiction. This approach allows the audience to engage with uncomfortable topics in a way that feels non-threatening.
A notable example of this is Ellen DeGeneres’ joke about her own forgetfulness:
“My grandmother started walking five miles a day when she was sixty. She’s ninety-seven now, and we don’t know where she is.” This joke isn’t targeting anyone else—it’s a light hearted, exaggerated way to poke fun at aging and memory loss without causing offense.
Unfortunately Comedy for many is seen as a reflection of Life.
In the end, comedy is not just about making people laugh—it’s about revealing deeper truths. It teaches us to embrace the pain, reframe our struggles, and, perhaps most importantly, find the humour in the absurdity of life. Whether it’s through political satire, personal anecdotes, or slapstick misfortunes, comedy helps us confront the uncomfortable realities of the world while giving us the space to laugh at them.
Ultimately, humour is a survival tool. It helps us navigate life’s challenges, cope with stress, and connect with others through shared experiences. The next time you find yourself laughing at something dark or uncomfortable, remember: it’s not just a joke. It’s a reflection of truth, wrapped in the comforting embrace of laughter.
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