Humor and Male Friendship

Those of us who raise and work with boys know how important humor can be to their relationships, particularly as they move through adolescence. Informal talk, inside references, and gentle ribbing may become ways through which boys establish interpersonal trust and find safe passage across emotional terrain. For boys coming of age, humor that bridges and bonds, that indirectly builds mutual attachment and respect, can offer a secure first step toward meaningful connection with peers.

What genuinely intrigues me, though, is what male friendship may look like when the scaffolding of banter falls away, even if only temporarily. While humor can be a terrific social lubricant, part of Browning’s project is to ensure that boys understand they are entitled to the full range of human conversation, which necessarily includes instances of sincerity, authenticity, and earnestness. We should smile when we see our boys being playfully and agreeably funny with one another—but we can also take special note when we see them openly and enthusiastically praise one another.  Such relating is not “better” than the lighthearted give-and-take that characterizes much of boyhood sociability; it is, however, a wonderful complement to the more jocular way of being, as expressions of honest admiration allow boys to find a different and equally fulfilling register for their most meaningful relationships.

We’re glad to see a great deal of this at Browning, but I’ve particularly noticed it of late among the members of our senior class. Over the past month or so, many Grade 12 boys have been receiving notifications about their early applications for college admissions.  Even as the aims of our educational mission should never be reduced solely to placement in higher education, we can acknowledge that this can be a tricky emotional time for students who are looking to find their next academic home. As happy as I have been for those boys who have gotten early offers of admission to their desired schools, what has made me happier still is the degree to which the entire grade has been specifically and generously complimentary of each other, regardless of their admission status. When a boy has gotten good news from the application process, I have overheard his peers not simply celebrating the result, but doing so in precise terms: “Well, of course—you’re probably the best writer our age I’ve ever read” or “Have you ever seen a problem that he couldn’t solve?”At the same time, boys for whom the college admission process is still ongoing are hearing classmates say things like, “You need a school that understands how helpful you are” and “You’re a math genius, and that’s just facts.” Put simply, the Grade 12 boys are speaking well of each other, to each other, irrespective of the decisions of admissions committees elsewhere.  

This all may seem like run-of-the-mill celebration and support among peers, but I think something larger and more hopeful is afoot. The danger of banter among male friends is that it may become the only way in which they interrelate, under the implicit assumption that boys are not supposed to be sincere, vulnerable, or earnest with one another; rather, the legitimate social standing can only be found through competitive humor, one-upmanship, and emotional invulnerability.  Such a constrained understanding of manhood is not only fictive but limiting, as it forestalls the kinds of openness, honesty, and trust that underwrite the fullest, most authentic relationships.  Our school contends that our boys are at their best—for each other and for themselves—when they are encouraged to be both playful and heartfelt, facetious and warm, ironic and genuine in equal measure. 

In his recent book, Notes on Being a Man, professor and podcaster Scott Galloway urges boys and men to “[c]ompliment your friends. Tell them how much you value what they bring to your life.” That Galloway marks this as a point of emphasis suggests that many prevailing understandings of manhood do not reward boys for being honestly complimentary of one another—and it affirms Browning’s sense that those of us who love and care for boys should nurture their capacity to be countercultural, to explore the full spectrum of human emotions and registers, in the name of becoming the best friends and most fulfilled men they can be.