From Stage to Page

So many of the people I follow these days are comedians: Josh Johnson, Leslie Jones, Trevor Noah, Atsuko Okatsuka, John Stewart, Stephen Colbert, and Paula Poundstone (yes, she’s back). Comedians illuminate the shadowy corners of our existence while diffusing the tension of difficult or taboo topics. The funniest moments (for me) are those that explode an ugly kernel of truth, exposing the painful chaos.

You’ve probably noticed the crossover between political commentary and comedy lately, but that marriage is not new. During The Great Depression, Charlie Chaplin criticized capitalism, worker exploitation, and fascism (see The Great Dictator). In the 60s we get Lenny Bruce talking about power structures, censorship, religion, and racism. George Carlin, famously reacted to censorship related to a 1978 Supreme Court ruling with his “Seven Dirty Words” routine. In the 90s, we saw the rise of adult cartoons (The Simpsons, South Park, King of the Hill), which all blended social commentary with some hilariously insightful criticisms of our current institutions and politics. The 2000s saw the rise of satirical news shows like The Colbert Report and The Daily Show. I’m not sure how to characterize the 2020s, other than a mashup enabled by social media. But over the years, comedians have consistently commented on society and politics.

It’s no accident that the topics comedians choose tend to expose the line that divides generations. Comedy is a cultural stethoscope. Comedians don’t create divides; they illuminate them. Anyone who wants to take the pulse of a society and see where norms are shifting (around identity, technology, gender, work, and political power) needs only to listen to comedians. Content that older people find offensive and younger audiences can’t get enough of reveals the rising concerns of the next generation (word to the wise—listen to them).

Comedy, for all its lightness on the surface, has always had the power to expose truths and forecast social change. That power is something worth harnessing. I don’t write comedy myself, but I’ve often thought about the sheer range of skills writers marshal to produce jokes that resonate. To achieve maximum impact, comedians rely on an impressive arsenal of skills.

At the most basic level, comedians are unusually sharp observers. They pay attention to what people worry about, complain about, and joke about among friends. They watch how strangers behave in public, absorbing the tiny contradictions and anxieties that accumulate in daily life. These casual, unguarded moments reveal what people are actually thinking.

The next level is the media narrative. Comedians compare what they’re seeing on the street with the story being told on the news, in political speeches, or on social media. The gap between lived experiences and polished narratives is often the source from which the richest jokes spring. Part of a comedian’s job is to point out the difference between what “they” tell you is happening and what is actually happening.

But raw observation is just the seed. Once the gap between reality and narrative is exposed, the challenge is to turn that disparity into humor. Comedy writers rely on a variety of techniques to turn observations into laughter, like exaggeration, hyper-specificity, juxtaposition, and role playing. Some comedians use callbacks, returning to an earlier joke later in the set, to reinforce a central theme. There’s also confessional honesty—exposing a petty thought, a fear, or a contradiction that the audience can relate to.

The methods I mentioned are just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to what comedians do. My goal isn’t to turn you into a comedian, but rather to point out that even a surface-level awareness of comedic techniques can help writers create impact. By observing the world carefully, noticing the gaps between perception and reality, and experimenting with ways to highlight contradictions or absurdities, you can make any writing more vivid and insightful.

The magic of comedy is that it unmasks the world for a moment while letting us laugh at what we see instead of flinching. As non-fiction writers, we can borrow principles of humor to illuminate truths and help readers experience ideas more deeply without diminishing the seriousness of the subject. Even a hint of comedic thinking can make facts resonate in ways plain exposition rarely does, and can make the truth land more lightly.