Opinion / Fergus Butler-GALLIE
Laughing matters
“You’ve got to laugh, haven’t you?” This is what profoundly irritating people say in response to minor inconveniences, such as getting a parking ticket or being crapped on by a bird. As a coping strategy, it seems to belong to the smug, comfortable early years of the previous decade, rather than the fraught early years of this one. Telling people these days that they have to laugh could be enough to precipitate a full-on nervous breakdown.
Still, it might be better advice than it first appears. The 2020s’ gifts of continuing plague, looming war and widespread societal venom might not seem to be obvious launching-off points for laughter. But a cursory look at history suggests that real humour is more often born of adversity than comfort. Cervantes wrote Don Quixote after an extended period as a galley slave. Jonathan Swift wrote Gulliver’s Travels as what we would probably now understand as a manic depressive. The satire boom of the 1950s was initiated by men who had known the horrors of the Second World War up close. Bad times make for good jokes.
Humour is not just an effective coping mechanism but an essential attribute in an increasingly dog-eat-dog world. For me personally, humour is an essential tool in my work as a clergyman in the Church of England, where it is important to be able to laugh at folly. Funerals are much better accompanied by laughter than tears. But, before that time comes, make sure you spend as much of 2022 as possible laughing. After all, if you don’t you’ll cry.
Fergus Butler-Gallie is a clergyman and writer whose essay on the link between comedy and religion appears in Monocle’s humour-themed February issue, which is out today.