The first research project of my college career was a digital ethnography of Seventh-day Adventist college Instagram meme pages. That in itself might sound like a joke, but no, I truly did academically slide into the DMs of meme page admins ranging from PUC’s now-dead (or maybe just very inactive) page @puc_meme_major all the way to our very own @au_hood, with all sorts of probing questions about their pages, why they created them, what they perceived their page’s role in their community to be, and what their future plans for their pages might be. And I learned a lot, such as the political intricacies of some inside jokes about the Walla Walla cafeteria, and that there isn’t really a good academic way to cite screenshots of one’s DMs.
The project’s conclusions slip my mind now–being a freshman project, I’m sure the height of my hubris was significantly larger than the depth of my understanding. But I do recall realizing some interesting insights about humor and how it functions as a human behavior phenomenon. Humor is way more complicated than what makes us laugh or smile. Becoming aware of the way humor works as a means of exercising power has fascinating implications for understanding how people control us or communities that we are members of, and also provides interesting potential for how we can operate even more intentionally and effectively in our own circles.
Jacob Levine once stated that no pattern of human behavior is so full of paradoxes as humor. Humor, being such a large and enjoyable part of the human experience, has been studied by human behavior specialists such as anthropologists, sociologists, and psychologists for years. Social scientists have several names to describe current humans, such as Homo Erectus (upright man), Homo Sapiens (thinking man) and, notably, Homo Ridens (laughing man)–humor plays such an important role in who we are as humans that it has earned a place in a common name for modern humankind.
The phenomenon of humor is a nebulous concept, but can be observed and measured by defining its expressions, such as smiles and laughter. Historically, philosopher John Morreall suggested that the first human laughter may have begun as a gesture of shared relief at the passing of danger. And since the relaxation that results from a bout of laughter inhibits the biological fight-or-flight response, laughter may indicate trust in one's companions. We can clearly see laughter playing those same roles in our social lives today, from the anxious ha-ha after a near car crash to children cackling joyfully at almost being caught in tag. Further, present research highlights how dominant individuals, such as tribal chiefs, family patriarchs, or office bosses, use humor more than their subordinates, urging researchers such as Provine to suggest that laughter, besides being a way to signal trust and companionship, also evolved to change the behavior of others. Humor not only can unite us closer to our communities, but can be used as a means of controlling the moods and subsequent actions of the members of our communities.
So much of laughter has to do with social norms, in addition or even occasionally in place of actually thinking something is funny. This past year I have been having the time of my life living in Sagunto, Spain. I’ve quickly learned that being in situations where I don’t completely understand the language makes me extra attuned to social cues other than what is being said. Specifically, I’ve learned first-hand that when groups laugh, it’s hardly ever because everyone thought it was funny, or even understood what was supposed to be funny. When we laugh in a group, it often has more to do with matching the emotional state of the group than actually finding something humorous.
Several of my friends here speak Portuguese, being from Portugal or Brazil. One Spanish-sunshine-soaked day this past autumn, a crew of us were stuffed into someone’s car hurtling down the road towards the beach, the small interior of the car smelling of sunscreen and echoing with a rapid fire mix of English and Spanish (both of which I speak, admittedly with quite different degrees of fluency), and Portuguese (which I unfortunately do not). The sun was shining and the mood was light, we were chismeando and joking about events of the past week, laughing all the while. A friend made a comment in Spanish, which I understood and laughed at, which was quickly followed by another comment in Portuguese, which also solicited a matching surge of giggles, which I joined, despite not understanding what on earth was said, but understanding the mood and subconsciously feeling the need to fit into it with my behavior. I only realized after the tide of laughter subsided that I hadn’t understood the second joke at all.
From the well-known psychological and social experiments that repeatedly prove that people will adjust their behavior to fit in even when they don’t see the reasons, such as changing the direction they stand in an elevator, or the presence of laugh tracks for radio and TV shows, this moment in the car illustrated an ubiquitous element of human behavior. In general, people do not want their behavior to stand out; specifically, they tend to laugh along with the group they are with.
In many groups, depending on cultural nuances, possessing and knowing how to deploy a sharp sense of humor can grant more power than possessing and knowing how to use a powerful and potent weapon. Now, we’ve probably all experienced someone blessed with remarkable levels of charisma turn the mood of a room with a few well placed wisecracks, or experienced having a sour mood turned around by some lighthearted banter with a friend. But what is really going on in those situations? Are we laughing because it’s funny or laughing for a different reason?
There is a word that represents a potential result of one of the effects of laughter: hegemony. ‘Hegemony’ is a word to describe the influence of a dominant group, over various areas of society, such as ideological or religious dominance, economic dominance, or social dominance. Membership in a hegemonic group (the group that creates and/or benefits from a hegemony) expresses itself in diverse, layered ways. It can look like never needing a translation for official documents, school lessons, or street signs because the language you speak is the main one of your location, could look like your religious beliefs being clearly protected by the laws of the country you live in, or your natural appearance being the mainstream beauty standard.
Group laughter, in almost every case, signals the presence, however small and inconsequential, of a form of hegemony. Imagine this–you’re thundering down the stairs of Buller trying to make it to the science complex in time for your next class, the lobby is full of people, it’s a noisy, rowdy scene. Then, horror of horrors: a small puddle of slush on the stairs, half-melted Michigan magic, and you don’t see it in time to avoid it in your rush.
Suddenly, you are giving the Gymnics’ best fliers a run for their money as you soar through the air, coming to a crashing halt in a disarrayed pile at the bottom of the stairs. Conversations and movement freeze as everyone stares at you in horror–‘are they alive?’ the pre-meds wonder, ‘will they now get free tuition?’ the accounting and pre-law students muse, and the theology students start praying. But no one really knows how to react. After you take a moment to ascertain that yes, you are still alive, you make a split second decision, and start to chuckle at yourself and your ridiculous appearance, crumpled at the bottom of the stairs after that majestic aeronautical adventure. Immediately, everyone else is relieved, both by this signal that you are alive, but also by the soft order of how to react to the situation, and the instructions, however subconscious, that told them ‘this is how to judge the situation, and this is how to act with that judgment.’ Congratulations, you not only survived, but you made a mini hegemony–because humans naturally like to conform to group behavior, and because humans like to participate in group laughter, your choice over how to interpret the situation became the dominant one.
Obviously, humor, along with any other kind of power, can be used for bad and good and shades in between. Paying attention to how humor functions in society is a way of noticing who possesses and deploys hegemony-forming power, and allows us to recognize and resist unethical and damaging hegemonies of interpretation. We’ve likely all been in a situation where someone made a joke that was decidedly not appropriate, ethical, or kind–be it racist, sexist, ableist, or simply at the expense of someone who clearly didn’t appreciate the jest–and in that moment, we did not know how to react. Why was this such a difficult situation? Well, as we’ve seen, resisting group laughter goes against our instincts and socialization as a species. There are several ways to react to jokes that one does not appreciate–one method was recently demonstrated at the Oscars. But what is the root cause of our discomfort at jokes that aren’t funny to us, and what can we do about them?
If someone made a comment without trying to be funny about the same topic as the offending joke, it likely wouldn’t elicit such a passionate response, but instead could begin a healthy discussion, or just result in an outright, apathetic dismissal. The thing with jokes we don’t agree with is partly that the fact that it is a joke signals to us that the other person is trying to enforce a worldview on us that we may not agree with. “Don’t joke about my body / family / inability to drive better than your average 14 year old,” we might tell someone after a poorly-thought out one-liner, “I’m not willing to view that situation in the manner that your joke suggests.” People can exploit this emotional shortcut towards making others angry–and bruh, what is your problem if you do that? Get some therapy. But if we can take a moment to gain control of our emotions (which sometimes is very difficult to do, I absolutely acknowledge, but often the alternative only leads to more damage), we can use our knowledge of how humor works to directly address what’s going on when people make offensive jokes. ‘Why do you think it’s okay to view the situation in that way?’ we can ask the errant joker. ‘I don’t think that is an accurate perspective on the situation, and I would appreciate it if you would avoid trying to impose your interpretation on me or others.’ Of course, you probably don’t want to use those exact words, or else you will look like a therapist on the loose or someone fresh out of an out-of-touch conflict-resolution focus group. But looking under the surface of those jokes that we don’t appreciate is a good way to initiate some healing and transformative recognition.
Lastly, who says using this power is for everyone else? Start laughing at everything! Exert power over everyone! The world is a joke and we are the punchline! Well, not quite, but still, it is important to note that we can not only recognize the complex role humor plays in society, but we can also exert small or large hegemonies or acts of resistance to damaging authority in small ways. Maybe you’re in a position where you can’t just straight up state disagreement or disapproval of a group choice or policy. Maybe you’re in a subordinate position and don’t have the space to express your opinion, or maybe the team you’re on has an authoritarian leader who doesn’t entertain alternative perspectives. Or maybe you’re just not wanting to burn bridges, but equally not wanting to stay silent. So many moments of resistance are like this. Instead of saying nothing, or taking a stand and getting sacrificed as a martyr, try making a small joke that introduces an alternative perspective–or the idea that there are alternative perspectives. This is small and subtle, yes, but still undermining the hegemony that is present by suggesting a different one.
There’s one last way I’ve learned to use humor in my life. In this life, sometimes everything looks like a wreck, my to-do list is growing as my mental stability shrinks, laundry, chores, emails, assignments, presentations, family obligations and future plans assemble themselves into a pile like our poor unfortunate student who landed at the bottom of the stairs. In those moments, instead of focusing on the seemingly insurmountable problems, you can look for little things to laugh at, be it a friends’ wisecrack over lunch to a TikTok that gave you the giggles, and let yourself change the hegemony of overwhelm and panic to one of recognizing that there is joy in everyday life and the accompanying challenges. It’s not a perfect fix, but we can’t give up, as eloquently suggested in this excellent artwork. Humor is a way of using our power to change our lives.
The Student Movement is the official student newspaper of Andrews University. Opinions expressed in the Student Movement are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of the editors, Andrews University or the Seventh-day Adventist church.