tag:theconversation.com,2011:/ca/topics/anthill-16-humour-me-42381/articlesAnthill 16: Humour me – The Conversation2017-08-24T14:23:49Ztag:theconversation.com,2011:article/825562017-08-24T14:23:49Z2017-08-24T14:23:49ZHumitas: a new word for when humour and seriousness combine<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/183000/original/file-20170822-22283-rt9vc0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Funny serious. </span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">via shutterstock.com</span></span></figcaption></figure><p><em>This article is part of a series linked to episode 16 of The Anthill podcast from The Conversation called <a href="https://theconversation.com/anthill-16-humour-me-82845">Humour Me</a>, which includes an interview with the author.</em> </p>
<p>Despite the fact that it is ubiquitous among humans, the study of humour is, ironically, still not taken seriously. It is routinely left to the footnotes of psychology and communications textbooks. In my PhD research, however, I argue that when it comes to making a point, comedy does not come naturally lower in the pecking order than seriousness. In some places and times, they have been equally important and the division between them is blurred.</p>
<p>The division is so ingrained that there isn’t a word for when humour and seriousness are mixed together. Once I had named it, it became easier to recognise and I spotted examples of it everywhere. The word I made up is “humitas” – a blend of “humour” and “gravitas”. The etymology of humour comes from “fluid” whereas gravitas comes from heavy, so with humitas we have weighty humour or fluid seriousness. </p>
<p>Something humitastic is a type of discourse which enjoys incongruity and paradox and doesn’t draw a clear line between satire and sincerity. It can be seen operating everywhere from a couple who decide to have a Star Trek-themed wedding to moments in <a href="http://www.nbcnews.com/video/obama-begins-state-of-the-union-with-joke-600793155838">Barack Obama’s speeches</a>, Michael Moore’s <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WQhgnJv1P1Y">films</a> and anti-capitalist demonstrations. </p>
<p><audio preload="metadata" controls="controls" data-duration="806" data-image="" data-title="Extract from The Anthill 16 podcast: Humour Me, on humour and academia." data-size="12378050" data-source="The Conversation" data-source-url="https://theconversation.com/anthill-16-humour-me-82845" data-license="CC BY-ND" data-license-url="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/4.0/">
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Extract from The Anthill 16 podcast: Humour Me, on humour and academia.
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" rel="nofollow" href="https://theconversation.com/anthill-16-humour-me-82845">The Conversation</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/4.0/">CC BY-ND</a><span class="download"><span>11.8 MB</span> <a target="_blank" href="https://cdn.theconversation.com/audio/877/humour-academia.mp3">(download)</a></span></span>
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<h2>The value of laughter</h2>
<p>The literary theorist Mikhail Bakhtin <a href="http://www.iupress.indiana.edu/product_info.php?products_id=20944">wrote</a> about the Renaissance of the mid-16th century as a time when the writings of Rabelais, Cervantes and Shakespeare brought together the folk humour of the masses with the serious discourse of officialdom. For a heady 60-year period, high literature embraced low comedy, until the old hierarchies reasserted themselves. As the modern world then took shape, we needed novelists, philosophers or scientists to tell us that the world was full of beautiful contradictions, rather than laughing about it together out loud. Laughter was relegated to being trivial.</p>
<p>Political anthropologist Dominic Boyer <a href="https://anthropology.rice.edu/sites/g/files/bxs1041/f/Simply%20the%20Best%20final.pdf">describes</a> a similar mixture of satire and sincerity happening in today’s politics and suggests it might be a reaction to the authoritative single voice of 24-hour news channels. I argue that we are once again seeing a value being placed on laughter, which can help us know the world beyond what official versions of the news tell us. </p>
<p>Boyer points to the recent spate of comedians entering politics, such as <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-europe-21576869">Beppe Grillo</a>, who founded the Five Star Movement in Italy in 2010, and the Brazilian clown Tiririca who <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-latin-america-11465127">won a seat</a> in the country’s congress in the same year, with slogans like “It can’t get any worse”.</p>
<p>Icelandic politician-comedian Jon Gnarr summarised the spirit of humitas perfectly when he <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2010/06/26/world/europe/26iceland.html">said</a>: “Just because something is funny, doesn’t mean it isn’t also serious.” He became mayor of Reykjavik in 2010 on <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/world/2014/sep/15/jon-gnarr-comedian-mayor-iceland">a comedy platform</a> which was seen as a reaction to the financial crisis in Iceland. He formed the Best Party with a manifesto including free towels for everyone in public pools, a polar bear in Reykjavik Zoo and a pledge to only enter into coalition with partners who had watched all five series of The Wire.</p>
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<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/183041/original/file-20170822-13649-1uf669e.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/183041/original/file-20170822-13649-1uf669e.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/183041/original/file-20170822-13649-1uf669e.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/183041/original/file-20170822-13649-1uf669e.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/183041/original/file-20170822-13649-1uf669e.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/183041/original/file-20170822-13649-1uf669e.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/183041/original/file-20170822-13649-1uf669e.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
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<span class="caption">Jon Gnarr: the former comedian-mayor of Reykjavik at his city’s 2011 gay pride event.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/8058853@N06/6028447695/sizes/l">Helgi Halldórsson via flickr</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/">CC BY-SA</a></span>
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<h2>Stand-ups taken seriously</h2>
<p>At the same time, but in a different way, stand-ups are increasingly using the cultural capital of their comedy and deploying it in activism. Irish stand-up Grainne Maguire joined in the “Repeal the Eighth” campaign against anti-abortion laws in Ireland <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-europe-34741326">by getting women</a> to Tweet the Taoiseach with details of their periods. Stand-up Josie Long has <a href="http://www.arts-emergency.org">started</a> the charity Arts Emergency in order to give disadvantaged young people mentors in the arts industries. The comedian Ruby Wax has also set up <a href="http://www.mentalhealthy.co.uk/features/celebrity/mental-health-forum-with-ruby-wax-and-judith-owen.html">forums</a> so people with mental health problems can support each other. This activism is not separate from these comedians’ shows – the themes are introduced in them and the campaigns are entwined with them. </p>
<p>Street movements have used their own kind of humitas, too. The Serbian resistance movement <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/world/2015/mar/08/srdja-popovic-revolution-serbian-activist-protest">Otpor</a>, which was founded in 1998 to bring down leader Slobodan Milošević, used humorous posters and performances to help make non-violent protest cool and bonding. The Clandestine Insurgent Rebel Clown Army was <a href="http://beautifultrouble.org/case/clandestine-insurgent-rebel-clown-army/">founded</a> in 2003 to use playfulness and absurdity to confuse security forces in protests against George W Bush. Russian punk protest group Pussy Riot often use humour in their <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bp-KeVBNz0A">protest videos</a>.</p>
<p>We are also seeing this blurring of boundaries in academia. Bright Club is a night, started at UCL in 2009, in which academics deliver their research in the form of stand-up comedy. Social scientist Cate Watson has <a href="https://theconversation.com/an-education-in-irony-why-academics-need-to-be-funny-55261">recently argued</a> on The Conversation for the value of humour as a social sciences methodology. My own PhD thesis about stand-up is one of relatively few pieces of academic work to be written humorously – which is why I looked for this word humitas in the first place. My written thesis contains a second voice who pops up to make jokes, puns and criticise the main argument.</p>
<p>Like everything in a neoliberal society, humitas could be reduced to a commodity whose only role is to sell things such as dodgy political ideas or friendlier business brands. But it can also be a way of acknowledging and embodying the world’s absurdity while still trying to change it for the better.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/82556/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Kate Fox does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>From Obama to street protests, humour is being used to make some very serious points.Kate Fox, PhD Candidate, University of LeedsLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/827142017-08-23T09:30:09Z2017-08-23T09:30:09ZActually, we are amused – how the Victorians helped to shape Britain’s unique sense of humour<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/183029/original/file-20170822-30552-el8d22.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">George Vasey, The Philosophy of Laughter and Smiling (1875).</span>, <span class="license">Author provided</span></span></figcaption></figure><p><em>You can hear more about the history of Victorian humour in the <a href="https://theconversation.com/anthill-16-humour-me-82845">latest episode of our podcast</a>.</em></p>
<p><audio preload="metadata" controls="controls" data-duration="2235" data-image="" data-title="Anthill 16: Humour me" data-size="27792359" data-source="" data-source-url="" data-license="CC BY-ND" data-license-url="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/4.0/">
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Anthill 16: Humour me.
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<p>Laughter: it’s said to be the best medicine and the cheapest form of therapy. Studies have shown it can help to <a href="https://theconversation.com/the-lowdown-on-laughter-from-boosting-immunity-to-releasing-tension-56568">boost immunity</a>, <a href="https://theconversation.com/the-lowdown-on-laughter-from-boosting-immunity-to-releasing-tension-56568">relieve tension</a> and even <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.co.uk/entry/the-best-medicine_uk_57702a73e4b0232d331e3262">reduce symptoms</a> of anxiety and depression – it seems there’s a lot to be said for having a good old laugh.</p>
<p>The idea of laughter being good for our health has deep roots. It was certainly in wide circulation during the Victorian era, meaning that despite popular stereotypes of this straitlaced century – in which the people and their Queen were terminally “not amused” – laughter was thought of as an essential component of good mental and physical health. </p>
<p>The introduction to the <a href="https://archive.org/details/railwaybookoffun00bris">Railway Book of Fun</a> (because who doesn’t need more fun on a train), which was published in 1875, proclaimed that cheerfulness was a “christian duty” and advised readers to “use all proper means to maintain mental hilarity” if they valued “health and comfort”. It even argued – rather optimistically – that a good sense of humour could help ward off infectious diseases.</p>
<p>Not all Victorians were so keen to loosen their stiff upper lips though. In 1875, a man named George Vasey declared war on laughter. In his book <a href="https://archive.org/details/philosophyoflaug00vase">The Philosophy Of Laughter And Smiling</a> he argued that only “the depraved, the dissipated, and the criminal” were “addicted to uproarious mirth.”</p>
<p>Over the course of 166 pages, he attempted to scientifically prove that laughing was an idiotic, vulgar, and ugly habit enjoyed by empty-headed fools. Laughter distorted the face and, Vasey warned, “often ended fatally” by blocking the passage of air to the lungs. Sensible people, he concluded, “never laugh under any possible circumstances”.</p>
<h2>Laugh and grow fat</h2>
<p>Vasey certainly wasn’t the only Victorian to argue for a new culture of seriousness, but the truth is that these anti-mirth campaigners were swimming against the tide. As Vasey himself admitted, the “immense majority” of his contemporaries held “the habit of laughing in high estimation” and regarded it as “an absolute necessary of life”.</p>
<p>The proverb “laugh and grow fat” <a href="https://archive.org/details/broadgrinsorcure00unse">circulated widely</a> in the 18th and 19th centuries and was usually intended as a recommendation. This link between fatness and health might seem odd to us today. But as one 19th century journalist explained:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>[This was not to suggest] that a mere state of obesity was especially desirable, but rather a wish to rebuke the evil effects upon the physical systems engendered in the persons of those whose lives are made up of fretfulness, of melancholy, and of sour-faced bigotry. </p>
</blockquote>
<p>For advocates of this philosophy, a good sense of humour could even lead to a slap-up meal. Jokes were an important part of Victorian “table-talk” and accomplished raconteurs were sought-after guests at dinner parties. One Victorian writer explained how a skilled and original humorist could “extract venison out of jests, and champagne out of puns”.</p>
<p>For less accomplished comedians, scores of joke books and ready-made “<a href="https://archive.org/details/bookofhumourwitw00londiala">manuals of table-talk</a>” were on sale at Victorian bookstalls.</p>
<h2>Fond of fun</h2>
<p>Just like today, the possession of a good sense of humour was considered an attractive quality by Victorian men and women when seeking a romantic partner. Back then, “<a href="https://twitter.com/DigiVictorian/timelines/876770348926160896">matrimonial advertisements</a>” – the equivalent of a modern day Tinder profile – routinely described their authors as “jolly” and “fond of fun”. </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/183011/original/file-20170822-22283-1vu8uep.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/183011/original/file-20170822-22283-1vu8uep.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=135&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/183011/original/file-20170822-22283-1vu8uep.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=135&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/183011/original/file-20170822-22283-1vu8uep.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=135&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/183011/original/file-20170822-22283-1vu8uep.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=170&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/183011/original/file-20170822-22283-1vu8uep.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=170&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/183011/original/file-20170822-22283-1vu8uep.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=170&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Matrimonial advert from ‘Ally Sloper’s Half Holiday’ (1888).</span>
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</figure>
<p>Some Victorian men even <a href="https://archive.org/stream/gri_33125007799568#page/n167/mode/2up/search/trusting+sex">pretended to have written jokes for Punch magazine</a> in the hope of “ingratiating [themselves] with the fair and trusting sex”.</p>
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<p>A small community of Victorian humorists also managed to earn a living by writing jokes. As one of these professional gag writers put it, he spent his day “turning out jokes as other men would turn out chair-legs”. </p>
<p>The most prolific jesters in the UK and US were reportedly capable of <a href="https://archive.org/stream/ouramericanhumor00mass#page/432/mode/2up">writing 100 new jokes in a day</a> before selling them to the editors of comic magazines like Punch and Fun. These papers circulated widely, and as Vasey begrudgingly explained: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>[The publications] realised princely incomes by their successful efforts in stimulating the pectoral muscles and shaking the diaphragms of their numerous readers.</p>
</blockquote>
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<h2>Private jokes</h2>
<p>While most Victorian joke books limited themselves to respectable humour, racier jokes were, it seems, told in private. The story goes that at one of Punch magazine’s legendary weekly dinner gatherings, political debate about the merits of the then prime minister’s reform bill was abruptly redirected when the journalist <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shirley_Brooks">Shirley Brooks</a> interjected with a joke: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>Q. If you put your head between your legs, what planet do you see? </p>
<p>A. Uranus</p>
</blockquote>
<p>The British novelist <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/William_Makepeace_Thackeray">William Thackeray</a> was reportedly consumed with laughter and then proceeded to crack a joke about his own problems with urethral stricture – so much for the link between laughter and good health.</p>
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<p>In short, most Victorians loved to laugh. Despite the best efforts of George Vasey and other champions of seriousness, a vibrant culture of comedy existed in 19th century Britain. And yet, much of this humour has never been studied by historians. Which is why, for the last few years, I’ve been working on a <a href="https://theconversation.com/the-victorians-gave-us-the-christmas-cracker-but-are-also-to-blame-for-the-terrible-jokes-inside-70745">project with the British Library</a> that aims to celebrate this under-appreciated aspect of Victorian life. </p>
<p>We are building an online archive of long-forgotten 19th century jokes. It’s still under construction, but we’ve already begun sharing some of the “best” gags on <a href="https://twitter.com/VictorianHumour">Twitter</a> and <a href="https://www.facebook.com/VictorianHumour">Facebook</a>. </p>
<p>Here are some of my favourites:</p>
<p><div data-react-class="Tweet" data-react-props="{"tweetId":"751098767852630016"}"></div></p>
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<p>Perhaps George Vasey had a point after all.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/82714/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Bob Nicholson does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>Have you heard the one about the Victorian sense of humour?Bob Nicholson, Senior Lecturer in History, Edge Hill UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/828452017-08-23T09:10:45Z2017-08-23T09:10:45ZAnthill 16: Humour me<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/182955/original/file-20170822-30529-12w2fj0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">via shutterstock.com</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>August is known as silly season in the news trade – it’s the time of year that you get stories about animals doing stupid things <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o9LzAU3fcr4">on the evening news</a> (as opposed to just in internet memes). </p>
<p>So we thought we’d embrace this and try to tickle you pink in this August episode of <a href="https://theconversation.com/uk/podcasts/the-anthill">The Anthill podcast</a>. As well as a few bad jokes, we investigate how our humour develops as we grow up. And we also look at the more serious side of being funny. </p>
<p>First up, we delve into a bit of the history of humour. It seems a lot of our modern day sense of humour actually takes inspiration from those <a href="https://theconversation.com/the-victorians-gave-us-the-christmas-cracker-but-are-also-to-blame-for-the-terrible-jokes-inside-70745">stiff and starchy Victorians</a> of the 19th century. The Victorians, it turns out, loved nothing more than a good old chuckle, as our editors Holly Squire and Paul Keaveny found out when they spoke to Bob Nicholson, a historian at Edge Hill University. </p>
<p>Turning to something a little more base, our science editor Miriam Frankel looked into <a href="https://theconversation.com/why-children-find-poo-so-hilarious-and-how-adults-should-tackle-it-72258">why children find poo so hilarious</a> and how it fits in with their wider humour development. She asked Paige Davis, a psychologist at the University of Huddersfield and Justin Williams, child psychiatrist at the University of Aberdeen, whether her three-year-old son will ever grow out of laughing at fecal related jokes. </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/182960/original/file-20170822-14267-1hvuiym.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/182960/original/file-20170822-14267-1hvuiym.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=312&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/182960/original/file-20170822-14267-1hvuiym.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=312&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/182960/original/file-20170822-14267-1hvuiym.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=312&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/182960/original/file-20170822-14267-1hvuiym.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=392&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/182960/original/file-20170822-14267-1hvuiym.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=392&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/182960/original/file-20170822-14267-1hvuiym.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=392&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Did someone say poo?</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">shutterstock.com</span></span>
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</figure>
<p>It turns out that one of the reasons toddlers find poo so funny is that it helps them deal with the serious issue of potty training, which they are going through at the time. But it’s not just kids that use humour to help them talk about important issues. Satire and irony are age old tools used by those who want to criticise powerful people. </p>
<p>Our producer Gemma Ware spoke to Kate Fox, who is doing a PhD in stand-up comedy at the University of Leeds, about how humour can be used to make a serious point, and to Cate Watson, an education researcher at the University of Stirling, on academia’s complicated relationship with humour and <a href="https://theconversation.com/an-education-in-irony-why-academics-need-to-be-funny-55261">why academics need to be funny</a>. One of the founders of the academic stand-up comedy night <a href="http://www.brightclub.org/">Bright Club</a>, <a href="https://twitter.com/steve_x?ref_src=twsrc%5Egoogle%7Ctwcamp%5Eserp%7Ctwgr%5Eauthor">Steve Cross</a>, who is also a Wellcome Trust Engagement Fellow, also comes on the podcast to explain the ingredients of some of the best gigs. </p>
<p>We hope you get some giggles out of the show. </p>
<hr>
<p><em>The Anthill theme music is by <a href="https://www.melodyloops.com/search/How+to+Steal+a+Million+Dollars/">Alex Grey for Melody Loops</a>.
Thanks to <a href="http://impatientproductionsuk.com/">Impatient Productions</a> for permission to use a segment of Kate Fox’s BBC Radio 4 show, <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b08vxt0v">The Price of Happiness</a>. And thanks to the University of Dundee and Ioan Fazey for permission to use a segment of Fazey’s Bright Club Dundee gig. You can listen <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eqBd_tJCL9c&feature=youtu.be">to the full show here</a>.</em> </p>
<p><em>The vaudeville era music used in the Victorian joke segment is courtesy of <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wv-InazTKIA">Pianosyncrazy</a>.</em></p>
<p><em>Click here to listen to <a href="https://theconversation.com/uk/podcasts/the-anthill">more episodes of The Anthill</a>, on themes including <a href="https://theconversation.com/anthill-14-music-on-the-mind-79379">Music on the Mind</a>, <a href="https://theconversation.com/anthill-10-the-future-73404">The Future</a> and <a href="https://theconversation.com/anthill-9-when-scientists-experiment-on-themselves-71852">Self-experimentation</a>.</em></p>
<p><em>A big thanks to City University London’s Department of Journalism for letting us use their studios to record The Anthill.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/82845/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
In this episode of the podcast, we take in the history of Victorian humour, why kids find poo so hilarious and whether academics should try and be funny.Will de Freitas, Environment + Energy Editor, UK editionAnnabel Bligh, Business & Economy Editor and Podcast Producer, The Conversation UKGemma Ware, Head of AudioMiriam Frankel, Senior Science EditorHolly Squire, Special Projects Editor, The Conversation UKLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/722582017-02-02T11:10:36Z2017-02-02T11:10:36ZWhy children find ‘poo’ so hilarious – and how adults should tackle it<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/155166/original/image-20170201-12678-1ydilh4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Look! I can make an even bigger one.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">petereleven/Shutterstock</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>A boy meets a man carrying a load of cow manure and asks him what he is going to do with it all. The man tells the little boy: “I’m taking it home to put on my strawberries.” The boy looks up at the man and says: “I don’t know where you come from, but where I come from we put cream and sugar on our strawberries.”</p>
<p>While most of us can appreciate a joke about excrement, preschoolers and children often find it hilarious on a completely different level. Just running around the house saying the word “poo” out loud can often unleash hysterical laughter. But why is this? </p>
<p>Perhaps most famously, Sigmund Freud argued that at this age, the child is going through an “<a href="https://www.verywell.com/freuds-stages-of-psychosexual-development-2795962#step3">anal stage</a>” when he or she gets immense psychosexual pleasure from the development of anal control through toilet training. While it is true that there are usually tensions around learning the toileting process for children at this age, such theories no longer have much bearing on our thinking. </p>
<h2>Stages of humour development</h2>
<p>Modern research focuses more on such behaviour as an important part of <a href="https://archive.org/details/psychologyofhumo00martrich">the development of humour</a> in children. Humour is after all a universal aspect of human behaviour. Anywhere you find people, you will find laughter. Laughter of a sort is <a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/19500987">also seen among non-human primates</a>, occurring during playful social interactions and laughing together is an important part of social bonding.</p>
<p>Research in children shows that the subject of the humour <a href="http://www.sciencedirect.com/science/book/9780123725646">changes as they develop</a>. In very young children, a game of peek-a-boo is the subject of much amusement. In the preschool years, we see a fascination with jokes about excrement and toilets. Then jokes about social and gender roles come to be funny. </p>
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<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/155167/original/image-20170201-12675-1jd7s4g.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/155167/original/image-20170201-12675-1jd7s4g.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/155167/original/image-20170201-12675-1jd7s4g.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/155167/original/image-20170201-12675-1jd7s4g.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/155167/original/image-20170201-12675-1jd7s4g.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/155167/original/image-20170201-12675-1jd7s4g.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/155167/original/image-20170201-12675-1jd7s4g.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
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<span class="caption">Guys, are you not a bit old for that kind of joke?</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Jason Salmon/Shutterstock</span></span>
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<p>Two patterns emerge from these studies. One is that children find things funny when they are stretching their cognitive abilities. Incongruity is a key quality of amusement and that has to be pitched at the right level and in the right context for the recipient to be tickled. Evidence shows that once the cognitive level has been passed, the subject loses its potency. </p>
<p>The other key quality is the social tension that gives rise to humour. For infants, the game of peek-a-boo may be a lot of fun because it is playing with both the threat of separation, and the concept of “object permanence” (when the young child is still learning that when something is out of sight it can be hidden rather than being no longer there). But if the child has separation anxiety, is scared of the stranger playing the game, or is long past the stage of understanding the concept of object permanency, the game of peek-a-boo is no longer funny. </p>
<p>Humour can thereby be understood as a critical aspect of social play. As well as its role in social bonding, play is something that we all must do in order to practise a range of skills, which will be required for survival and reproductive success. And social interaction skills <a href="http://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1002/(SICI)1520-6505(1996)5:5%3C172::AID-EVAN6%3E3.0.CO;2-H/full">are a very important part of this</a>. We play with funny faces, gestures and language, using the same words in different ways to make them mean different things. Sometimes, we use the words in different contexts to see what effects they have. When we play games, it is important to make sure all the players know it is a game, and so we have laughter to give a clear signal.</p>
<p><audio preload="metadata" controls="controls" data-duration="668" data-image="" data-title="Extract from The Anthill 16 podcast: Humour Me, on children's toilet humour." data-size="7576763" data-source="The Conversation" data-source-url="https://theconversation.com/anthill-16-humour-me-82845" data-license="CC BY-ND" data-license-url="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/4.0/">
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<div class="audio-player-caption">
Extract from The Anthill 16 podcast: Humour Me, on children’s toilet humour.
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" rel="nofollow" href="https://theconversation.com/anthill-16-humour-me-82845">The Conversation</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/4.0/">CC BY-ND</a><span class="download"><span>7.23 MB</span> <a target="_blank" href="https://cdn.theconversation.com/audio/880/childrens-toilet-humour.mp3">(download)</a></span></span>
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<p>Between the age of two and three, children’s learning explodes as they develop the cognitive capacity to create <a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/11548971">“secondary” mental representations</a> of the world that are distinct from primary representations of reality. This means they are becoming self-aware, learning about pretence and learning that words can stand for objects. </p>
<p>The three-year-old running round the house saying “poo” or pretending to go to the toilet is arguably appreciating the incongruity of being able to use the word liberally. They are also playing with the action of toileting, the social conventions around it and the possible shameful consequences of incontinence. Toilet humour is therefore a natural part of their development. </p>
<p>Toilet humour tends to fade with age but usually sticks around in everyone to some extent, though not everyone finds it funny to begin with. Some children with a fear of germs, a heightened sensory aversion, problems with incontinence or a fear of public exposure, may just find the whole business too worrying or unpleasant to laugh about. In their case, their worries need to be acknowledged and their privacy respected. </p>
<h2>The role of parents</h2>
<p>Nowadays, most of us are fortunate to live in a world where the value of levity and laughter is appreciated. We appreciate the value of play and the right to play is <a href="https://www.unicef.org.uk/what-we-do/un-convention-child-rights/">enshrined in the human rights convention</a> on the rights of the child. This is actually a very recent cultural development in Western society. For many centuries, from the Greek scholars to the 20th century, humour was seen by philosophers <a href="https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/humor/">as a rather debased form of intellectual activity</a>. The bible also has little place for humour and the Christian tradition would frown on laughter as exemplified in many strict protestant traditions.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/155165/original/image-20170201-12669-dd3gf5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/155165/original/image-20170201-12669-dd3gf5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/155165/original/image-20170201-12669-dd3gf5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/155165/original/image-20170201-12669-dd3gf5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/155165/original/image-20170201-12669-dd3gf5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/155165/original/image-20170201-12669-dd3gf5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/155165/original/image-20170201-12669-dd3gf5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
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<span class="caption">Look what teddy’s doing!</span>
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<p>It was the advent of cognitive psychology that brought <a href="https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/humor/">new ways of thinking about the mind</a>, with relief theory suggesting that laughter was a way of releasing pent up energy, and <a href="http://www.richardwiseman.com/LaughLab/incon.html">incongruity theory</a> recognising that jokes play with cognitive incongruity. Now, most developmental psychologists appreciate the critical role of humour, levity and laughter in healthy social development and something to be utilised by good parenting and education. </p>
<p>So, for parents whose toddlers find excrement very funny, it is probably a sign of healthy development if they are also learning to use the potty in an appropriate way. It shows they are thinking about and reflecting on what they are learning, and upon the social rules that surround it. And for parents to be able to have a little laugh with their toddler about this learning process, shows them that it is an okay subject for discourse. This limits the shame and embarrassment that occurs during the inevitable accidents, helps develop the social bond and fosters that open channel of communication between parent and child that is so important in the long run.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/72258/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Justin H G Williams receives funding from the Northwood Trust.</span></em></p>The serious science of toilet humour.Justin H G Williams, Senior Clinical Lecturer in Child Psychiatry, University of AberdeenLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/552612016-04-04T09:37:47Z2016-04-04T09:37:47ZAn education in irony: why academics need to be funny<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/115859/original/image-20160321-30908-1740j1o.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=16%2C13%2C949%2C639&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Education should be a laughing matter.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Ollyy/www.shutterstock.com</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Despite what some people might think, academics are not all humourless boffins out of touch with the real world. They can also be funny, and some are turning to humour to help get their messages across. </p>
<p>Last November, the Times Higher Education <a href="https://www.timeshighereducation.com/news/why-did-chicken-cross-road-public-engagement-course">reported that</a> zooarchaeologists from the University of Nottingham had hired a stand-up comedian to disseminate the findings of their research on “human-chicken interactions” to the public. While the report took the opportunity to poke a bit of fun at this, the purpose was to make the entirely serious point that human-chicken interactions are no joke. </p>
<p>Using comedy to create awareness of research is less ridiculous than it might at first appear. Public engagement is the new black in academia, with pressure growing on academics around the world to <a href="https://theconversation.com/the-impact-of-impact-on-the-ref-35636">show the “impact”</a> of their research. A growing number of academics are now starting to realise the potential of comedy to deliver hard-hitting social insights. </p>
<p><audio preload="metadata" controls="controls" data-duration="806" data-image="" data-title="Extract from The Anthill 16 podcast: Humour Me, on humour and academia." data-size="12378050" data-source="The Conversation" data-source-url="https://theconversation.com/anthill-16-humour-me-82845" data-license="CC BY-ND" data-license-url="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/4.0/">
<source src="https://cdn.theconversation.com/audio/879/humour-academia.mp3" type="audio/mpeg">
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<div class="audio-player-caption">
Extract from The Anthill 16 podcast: Humour Me, on humour and academia.
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" rel="nofollow" href="https://theconversation.com/anthill-16-humour-me-82845">The Conversation</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/4.0/">CC BY-ND</a><span class="download"><span>11.8 MB</span> <a target="_blank" href="https://cdn.theconversation.com/audio/879/humour-academia.mp3">(download)</a></span></span>
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<h2>Academics take to the stage</h2>
<p>In 2010, <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/science/blog/2010/nov/04/laugh-learn-science-bright-club">two science communicators</a> in public engagement at University College London created the <a href="http://www.brightclub.org/">Bright Club</a>, where “researchers become comedians for just one night”. The success of the format – each performance features a mix of both comedians and researchers – has resulted in chapters sprouting up across the UK. </p>
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<figcaption><span class="caption">Bright Club in action in Dundee.</span></figcaption>
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<p>One of the Bright Club founders, Steve Cross, <a href="http://www.scienceshowoff.org/">created and now comperes Science Showoff</a> a “chaotic cabaret for science lovers”. He welcomes any sort of performance, including stand-up comedy, and is keen to have academics present. </p>
<p>It would be easy to dismiss the performers at the Bright Club as wannabe stand-ups intent on escaping the drudgery of academia if only for one night. But good stand-up comedians are capable of achieving what social scientists often crave: getting an audience to critically engage with a subject. </p>
<h2>Humour as a tool</h2>
<p>And as anthropologist Kate Fox <a href="https://books.google.co.uk/books/about/Watching_the_English_The_International_B.html?id=fKtvAgAAQBAJ&source=kp_cover&redir_esc=y">has argued</a>: “at its best … social science can sometimes be almost as insightful as good stand-up comedy”. </p>
<p>Comedy can be used to challenge social norms, or speak out against social injustices. For instance, what better way to begin explaining what a class system is than to say it is “what you use to discriminate against people who look like you” – as comedian <a href="http://www.boreme.com/posting.php?id=32551#.Vq-AOdKLS72">Reginald D Hunter has done</a>.</p>
<p>But comedy in the social sciences is not just about public engagement and brightening up the otherwise dull existence of the average academic. Humour also has an important role to play in the social sciences as a tool for analysis and its neglect should be a cause for concern, given its essential place in the experience of being human. </p>
<p>Humour hasn’t just been neglected by social scientists, it has been actively rejected. To be a humorous academic appears to be an unacceptable oxymoron and those who use humour in their work run the risk of being seen as non-serious, and therefore trivial. Even <a href="http://sociology.about.com/od/Profiles/p/Erving-Goffman.htm">Erving Goffman</a>, one of the greatest social scientists of the 20th century, is regarded in some quarters with suspicion for his “sparkling” humorous prose. There are many who would agree with his own apparently self-denigrating epithet of being an “elegant bullshitter”.</p>
<h2>It doesn’t get better than irony</h2>
<p>Goffman’s technique depends on irony. By overturning received ideas and the logical contradictions that shape our most deeply held convictions, irony has the potential to provide new theoretical insights. It can function as an analytical tool. </p>
<p>An appreciation of irony is arguably an essential attribute for the social scientist. It underlies <a href="http://www.econlib.org/library/Enc/UnintendedConsequences.html">the law of unanticipated consequences</a> which says that “actions of people – and especially of government – always have effects that are unanticipated or unintended”. It has been claimed by some very eminent thinkers (among them Adam Smith, Karl Marx and Machiavelli) that this is the most important phenomenon the social sciences have to deal with. </p>
<p>Irony also underpins the concept of <a href="http://kbjournal.org/long_tending">“planned incongruity”</a> in which, through a deliberately induced incongruity, the apparently rational is undermined, re-emerging as irony. For example, the American economist <a href="http://www.britannica.com/biography/Thorstein-Veblen">Thorstein Veblen’s</a> idea of “trained incapacity” – that a person’s narrow specialisation in a particular subject can actually widen their field of ignorance. </p>
<p>Irony certainly produces comic pleasure and the extent of this pleasure can be directly related to two key principles: the principle of “high contrast” and the “law of irony”. The principle of high contrast says that the more incongruous the ideas put together, the more pleasurable the result will be for the reader or listener. The law of irony, meanwhile, asserts that when an ironic statement combines high contrast and high certainty of outcome, the resulting statement is of greatest theoretical value. For example, the Utopian paradox which states that utopia, if achieved, would <a href="https://books.google.co.uk/books?id=RCXxEumXFhUC&pg=PA174&lpg=PA174&dq=richard+harvey+brown+law+of+irony&source=bl&ots=M81CP3p6-u&sig=pLmvYr1gq33exJ7V-pwiWWlZrPA&hl=en&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwj0hInM19jKAhVFXRQKHfQlCaoQ6AEIHzAA#v=snippet&q=%22law%20of%20irony%22&f=false">result in disaster</a>. </p>
<p>By combining these two ideas, we can see that the most pleasure is derived from the highest incongruity, which also gives rise to the greatest theoretical insight. This produces the somewhat unexpected – hence ironic – finding that the most important sociological insights are also likely to be the ones which produce the greatest comic effect. In other words, the funniest.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/55261/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>The authors do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>Irony can provide new theoretical insights. Social scientists should embrace it.Cate Watson, Professor in Professional Education and Leadership, School of Social Sciences, University of Stirling., University of StirlingIoannis Costas Batlle, PhD Researcher in Education, University of BathLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.