The Funny Thing About Humor
By: Curtis Kelly
The conundrum of humor across cultures
Catchy title, I think. But actually, there really is something funny about humor: its utter lack of transportability across cultures. Well, not utter lack, but spotty at best. Some of what my British peers think is funny seems silly or crass to Americans, and I am sure it works the other way too. My own jokes often left my Japanese students in a daze. And once, a famous speaker told a joke to start his presentation in Japan, and no one even smiled. The Japanese translator added one bit and suddenly the whole room broke out in laughter. The presenter later asked what the translator said, and she replied: “That was a joke.”
Poor transportability across cultures. But then, why are some sources of humor almost universally funny, like Rowan Atkinson’s Mr. Bean?
While at the same time, I’ll bet his Welcome to Hell skit (which I think is far funnier) would perplex most non-native speakers, and not just for subject matter knowledge or language proficiency reasons.
But why? I long pondered this problem, but all I could come up with was “Well, it’s just culture.” That is not really wrong, but such an answer does not have anything you can sink your teeth into. And of course, jokes based on unfamiliar word play or concepts don’t work, but far too often, rather simple jokes that you’d think would work, don’t either. For example, here is a Japanese joke that gets Japanese laughs but leaves me cold:
When you go to get your watch fixed, don’t pay before. Wait until the time comes.
What humor is
Since many of us want to incorporate humor in our classes, we’d better figure out what that “funny thing about humor” is. And finally, I did. To start off, I’ll offer you this idea. Funny is a process of the brain, and it is actually a part of the most important thing our brain does, a fundamental process that is continuous and drives everything else we feel, think, or do. Whoa! That’s saying a lot.
Can you guess what that process is? If you’ve read other things I’ve written for the Think Tanks, such as my bit on surprise, then you have probably already realized that I am once again, like the bore I am, trumpeting the wonders of predictive processing. Our brains are prediction machines, and they predict every upcoming second beforehand in order to reduce processing. Memory exists solely for that purpose, so that in any situation, including a language event, we predict what is coming next by using our existing memories of previous situations similar to what we are currently experiencing. If you are out to lunch with your better half, and he leans over with an extended fork, and says, “Do you mind if I…” you’ve already predicted the following words will be “try your (whatever you are eating)”? and not “stab you in the arm”? (in most marriages, at least). If this is confusing, read the surprise article.
So, there. That is how humor works. As we see or hear an unfolding situation, our brains are already predicting, based on models assembled from a myriad of previous experiences, whether this or that will happen next. Our brain feels that some of these predictions are absolutely right, because they have never been wrong before, and that is what sets us up for a joke’s punchline. If what comes next is completely different than what you expected, so different that your brains reels from the surprise and releases a dollop of dopamine to reshape your memories, (a neurotransmitter that is also the feel-good drug), then you are experiencing the kind of surprise that forms humor. Guffaw.
Naturally, if your prediction machine hasn’t had as many similar past experiences as the one setting up the joke, as happens with people in other cultures, then the brain is less confident about the prediction. Instead of the joke causing a predictive wallop, it ends up being just an “Oh. Is that so.” (Period intended.)
That is why Mr. Bean works universally and Welcome to Hell doesn’t. The first is based on everyday situations we all understand. The latter is based on cultural nuances that might be processable, but without surprise.
Since we now know how humor works, let’s dig into this issue and become astonished by what we didn’t expect.
Curtis Kelly (EdD) is big on play and wonder these days, as a fundamental tool of learning. Take a look at his proudest production of the year, a TBLT speaking textbook that uses play to levitate students through a course: The Snoop Detective School: Interactive Tasks for English Learners.