Laughing Together and Healthy Manhood

When I am lucky enough to meet with groups of students in casual conversation or over lunch, certain topics are perennial. We talk about how much sleep the boys are getting, what new ideas are getting them excited, the movies or podcasts I have missed, the relative merits of certain in-school snacks, and—almost always—the sense of humor that so many of their teachers bring to their relationships. I like hearing this, because I think laughter is essential to community, and believe that it can do wonders in fostering the interdependence that is so vital in school life. As the humorist John Cleese puts it:  “I’m struck by how laughter connects you with people. It’s almost impossible to maintain any kind of distance or sense of social hierarchy when you’re just howling with laughter.”  

If humor is important to communities, it’s certainly important to individuals—particularly students—as research has demonstrated that it contributes to well-being, both psychologically and physically. And boys who help others to laugh can find a commendable and constructive way of earning social approval, as a good and quick sense of humor may be seen to reflect a spate of other appealing traits such as creativity, intelligence, and self-awareness. In healthy communities, social approval and connection can and should be realized in a variety of ways, and a boy with a good sense of humor may be as appealing as an engaging intellectual, a powerful athlete, a creative artist, or a courageous student leader.  

But as with any social tool, it’s vital that humor be deployed with skill and care. We may all recognize the unfortunate possibility that satirization, nicknames, or incisive comments which increase solidarity within one peer group can simultaneously exclude and even derogate those peers outside of the group; indeed, we likely have all seen or heard jokes that are really just disparagement and unkindness dressed up as “witticisms.” And I would suggest that boys’ schools need to be particularly attuned to this phenomenon, for certain narrow, unhelpful understandings of masculinity can work to limit the restraints on antisocial humor, and thus harm all who participate in it.  

As these blog posts consistently emphasize, too often boys learn that “real” men do not show weakness or betray any sensitivity, and such a lesson can be doubly harmful when teasing and sarcasm exclude and injure, even (or perhaps especially) without intention. The pervasive societal message that manhood demands constant, unrelenting stoicism can lead those boys who have been hurt by a joke to suffer in silence. This same belief may prompt some boys to deny that their attempts to be funny can injure, and to instead insist that those who have been affronted should “stop being so sensitive” or “learn to take a joke.” This limited understanding of masculinity can thus turn ill-considered “humor” into a means of disintegration, whereby victims are blamed for their feelings, boys deny their responsibility to one another, and all lose an appreciation of a more courageous, more compassionate manhood.

This is surely not an argument that boys must refrain from playful banter or joking, that we at Browning should presume the worst about occasionally misguided humor, that innocent mistakes among peers cannot be repaired, or that we collectively ought to legislate the fun out of schools and childhood. Absolutely no one wants to be part of an over-controlled community where there is no laughter, no spontaneity, no sense of emotional ease between members; such a space would be a joyless one indeed. But that emotional ease must function where boys share respect, trust, and a sense of responsibility for one another’s well-being—where there is dignity for all, as our core value demands. Real manhood involves real humanity. It doesn’t “punch down” or seek cheap laughs at someone else’s expense; rather, it uses humor as Mr. Cleese suggests: To remove social hierarchy, to bridge differences, and to both broaden and deepen relationships. A boy who truly understands the purpose of humor—and who embraces the substantial, often countercultural obligations of healthy manhood—will recognize that everyone deserves to be in on the joke. That is a laugh worth sharing.