The Dark Side of Humor – Part 2

Hello, and welcome to Part 2!

That’s Show Business

In pondering the downsides of humor, I realized it dovetails nicely with the previous post about performance as a means of coping. Being the funny guy grants me access to a treasure trove of affirmation that I think will fill me up when I’m feeling inadequate or unimportant.

It’s like having a gumball machine. Except the quarters you insert are jokes, and the gumballs are affirmations (in the form of laughs). Any time I feel down and out, I can plunk a funny into the machine and get a little zip of positive attention in return. Of course, this is a temporary analgesic unable to soothe my real unmet need(s).

It’s easy to see how using humor in this way places it under the umbrella of performing to please. It’s that under-the-table transaction consisting of me doing this so that you’ll give me that.

Gateway to Desolation

In sex addiction, the improper use of humor quite commonplace is flirtation with women. Most men I’ve met in recovery share traits of charm and wit. I don’t think this is mere coincidence. We’ve figured out the formula: I want that, and the easiest and most effective way to get that is to be like this. Too vague? It’s humor. Humor is the all-access pass. Evoke laughter from another woman, and hooks are digging in all over the place.

It’s hard for me to acknowledge this bit because I’ve been in denial for so long. The truth is that a successful joke, especially when curated for an individual woman, is a potent and dangerous entity. A connection is formed (or reinforced) between you and that woman. If she laughed at my joke, it must mean she at minimum finds me tolerable. Once that gap is bridged, that contact is established, the subsequent steps can come organically and easily.

I want to pause and remind us here that this is what not to do. Please do not take this as a guide book to make poor choices. My purpose in presenting in this sequential and detailed way is to shed light on what happens behind the scenes and help us see that it is a big deal to behave like this. Okay, hold that in mind as we forge ahead.

Where were we…ah, right—the hooks. I was coming back to the hooks.

The Hooks

Eliciting laughter from a woman sticks a hook into me: I feel good about myself for successfully landing a joke and getting the intended response. A hook might also be ensnaring the female recipient: she feels a little lighter, a little cheerier, perhaps. I potentially receive another hook: the possibility of future jokes to resonate with this woman. Yet another hook could puncture the victim—I mean, woman: she could begin an association with me and “good” humor (I put quotation marks here since there’s an ulterior motive).

With one “innocent” funny remark, I’ve created a potential pathway. If this is someone I see on a regular basis, that pathway can be traveled both ways. She could unconsciously seek me out to get a quick laugh and soothe her stress. I supply the jokes, she gets a hit of happy neurotransmitters, and I get the same. In this way, this woman and I could both be coping in unhealthy ways, using one another to be momentarily rescued from pain. I suppose I just described what we might call mutually beneficial addiction.

Effecting a laugh can be addictive by itself. When it’s a laugh from an attractive woman, the addictive potency is substantially boosted.

The Hooks²

We all know that addiction is not a steady state. As my brain becomes accustomed to the quantity and/or frequency of a stimulus, I require more to experience the same hit. How does this work with humor? (I’m actually taking some liberties in real-time here—this is my personal opinion based on experience and my understanding of how addiction works. I’m just a regular guy.) I see my own addictive process in an uptick of humor-spewing frequency. Instead of a handful of witty remarks in a day, I’m now crop dusting (no, not that kind) heaps of quips on a daily basis.

Well, a lone woman is going to grow weary of this routine if it’s performed too often. How do we get around this? By increasing the quantity of female victims. Fire up the crop duster.

**Again, do not use this as a guidebook**

Good heavens, is making a woman laugh really this dangerous? Maybe not all the time. But let’s not kid ourselves here. Better to err on the side of caution than get caught up in a web of addiction that wreaks havoc on your life and marriage.

VIP Treatment

I’ve talked about joking around in general, and there’s more to be said about the content of the humor itself. Maybe you, like me, have times in which you buy into the lie that it’s not flirting. A joke about the weather is nothing more than that, right? It could be. However, any content can be intended as and received as flirting.

I’m not saying I believe that if we, as men, are in a committed relationship, we ought to be absolutely forbidden from cracking a joke around other women. What I’m hoping to convey is the second comb-through that is warranted when you find yourself making other women laugh, especially if it’s a recurring event.

There is overt flirting, sure. For example, teasing a woman while kneading in a subtle compliment about her appearance. This volatile cocktail combines the Hooks of Humor with an extra dose of intent.

Inside Man

It doesn’t have to be conspicuous flirting to be flirting. Pursuing a woman’s attention with any type of humor can be flirting. It’s not necessarily the content (a joke about snails, for example) but the intent behind it. Bleeding through any veil of subtlety is that intent. Setting out to make a woman feel special with a joke crafted just for her is arguably flirting, whether I acknowledge it or not. Treating a certain woman with special attention—that VIP treatment—with or without humor, sets the stage for predicament.

Enter the inside joke. These quips are like an ongoing symbol of connection between two or more individuals. Routinely engaging in an inside joke with another woman can be another form of flirtation. It fosters a sense of exclusivity, like a little club, in which the two of you share a common, humorous perspective.

Loophole Located

At times, it can be tempting for me to engage in sexual humor. Far removed from the subtle flirtation is this bold-faced form of humor that cuts right to the chase. We’ve added cocaine to the already-sugary cookies. It’s astounding how humor has a way of making otherwise highly inappropriate conversation palatable.

Touching on sexual topics under the protection of humor is a bit of a loophole, then. If I want a big whiff of my drug, I can test out sex-infused joking to see how it’s received. If there’s a good response, or, better yet, reciprocation, I have successfully found and exploited the loophole.

False Acceptance

Using humor to gain attention is somewhat of a life hack. My tendency to widely distribute witty humor while being an introvert with limited social capacity has confused many acquaintances of mine. Heck, it confuses me sometimes. A stroke of humor that engages others indiscriminately (not exclusively women), captures a greater volume of affirmation.

Triumphant comedic escapades for an audience grant the showman attention and implied acceptance. If my joke is applauded, I must be all right. Humor can be used to control content, constraining personal and vulnerable information. I might believe that the real me is unacceptable while simultaneously deeply desiring to be accepted. Having my external, conjured humor be admired gives me a false sense of acceptance and belonging. But it’s not truly me that is getting the accolades; it’s a presentation—how I want to be perceived. For a form of self-expression, humor can be surprisingly withholding.

Igniting others in an inferno of hilarity can feel really nice in the moment. However, since it’s not actually me who is being applauded, the effect never quite sinks in. Chasing that fleeting high, I’m obligated to make the next joke, and then the next one, and so on. What’s happening here is a form of performing to please—one of my go-to coping mechanisms. It’s, again, that transaction between two parties: I supply the humor, and you give me the laughs.

In the end, dressing myself up as the class clown but never being truly known feels empty, futile, and even lonely.

Decimate the Misery

I’m sure you’ve heard these sarcastic responses when you’ve inquired about the quality of somebody’s day: “Living the dream!” or “Another day in paradise!” It’s usually at work, when people are enduring their own personal hells, when these remarks are most commonly touted. We submit a knowing chortle, commiserating with the dismal sentiment.

Humor has a dual effect here. One, it implies pain but makes light of it—I’m merely the victim of my horrendous circumstances, yet I’m calloused and unimpeded in this death march. Second, it protects me from vulnerability. Despite the strong message of internal turmoil, statements like these are not invitations for further interviewing. They are a hardening of the heart, and often used to veer around vulnerability.

In general, humor is an effective medium for avoiding the pains of this life. Unfortunately, it lasts for only a moment.

Mini Miser

If I’m postured to withhold empathy and openness, I’ll make a joke when someone brings up something vulnerable. Sheesh, when I spell it out like that, it sounds awful. I’m hopefully doing this less frequently as I recognize when humor is appropriate and when it’s not. Oftentimes, it’s easier to minimize someone else’s issue instead of provide adequate attention.

I might be outside my self—disconnected from my own emotions—and, therefore, will have a hard time being present with you and your emotions. If your emotions resonate with the very ones I’m avoiding, I’m going to feel unsafe and try to distance myself from the brewing vulnerable atmosphere. I think this happens more than we realize. Someone else is brave enough to share a struggle, and what do we do? We tell them “Aw, it’s not that bad!” or “It could be worse!” Wanna go for the carotid artery? Tell them they shouldn’t feel bad.

When we minimize (in this case with humor), we’re communicating that the other person’s feelings don’t matter, are too much, or both. Humor can swiftly disarm through minimization or by simply shutting down the other person. It’s a way for me to commandeer the conversation, so I can steer it away from the feelings with which I’m having a hard time.

Sometimes, I’d bet we offer humor fully believing it’s going to help the other person.

Maybe I think that the emotions themselves are the problem, and you want a quick fix. Well, they say laughter is the best medicine, so let’s have a laugh and both forget about those pesky feelings. What actually happens is I steamroll you with my joke, decimating space for you to be sad, upset, perturbed, angry, etc.

Perhaps what you really yearn to hear is that your emotions make sense and that I am here to support you. I can stay grounded as you share; your feelings are not too much for me, and I’m staying right here with you.

A Word of Caution

As a recovering sex addict, I can admit I have historically used both humor and empathy for my own selfish and decadent gain. This can be a fatal combination when used improperly. Offering empathy instead of making light of someone’s calamity was the “right answer” above. However, this is not a universal suggestion. If that other person is a woman with any semblance of threat to your marriage, hold up. That empathy could be a worse move than making a joke. It is not your job to soothe that other woman. She has female friends in whom she can confide, and she does not need to be seeking your care and attention.

Part of my story includes using my sense of humor and my emotional intuition to present like an understanding, jovial, and sensitive man—all to get attention from and create inappropriate connections with other women.

In summary, humor and empathy are good things. Like all good gifts, they can be used manipulatively and for personal gain. Utilize responsibly.

Well, Now What?

Cool, so I’ve established a multitude of poor uses of humor—oh, and empathy. With how many ways we can misuse humor, should we ever tell a joke again? Might we be better off becoming stoics and purging comedy from our lives?

I’m not suggesting we become irrational here (that’ll be in next week’s post—kidding, kidding). What I will endorse is taking inventory of how we use humor on a daily basis. Are we using it to build others up or tear them down? To invite healthy connection or to shut down vulnerability? To avoid our own pain? To get others to like us? To elicit attention from women? You might not like what you find (I know I haven’t), yet this is a big step toward becoming healthy and safe—a man of integrity.

Humor is not the problem; it is not a vice to be renounced. I probably couldn’t stop indulging in humor even if it became punishable by death. We were created as relational beings, and humor can be a wonderful tool to build friendship and community.

If you want to assess if your employment of humor is appropriate or not, the first thing to do is check in with your own emotional state. Do you feel grounded, operating from a place of truth about your value and significance? Or do you feel like you’re in a deficit, desperate for external validation?

Good humor should be in line with truth of our identity and foster inclusion and connection. We can apply humor from a place of pain or a place of peace.