Cultivating Organic Humor

Humor is a funny thing. Everyone thinks they have a sense of humor, but not everyone is right. You can be an effective speaker even if you don't have a sense of humor, as long as you don't try to fake it. The audience can always tell.

On the other hand, if you have been blessed with a good sense of humor, that isn't enough to be a speaker; you also need a sense of timing. A sense of humor allows you to see the funny aspects of everyday life and the funny relationships between unrelated things. A sense of timing lets you talk about them in a funny way.

We all know what's funny, but we laugh at wildly different examples. One theory says that some nationalities are funnier than others, but I don't buy it. I'm German by ancestry and I've been known to be amusing, even though you'd probably be hard pressed to come up with a good example of German hilarity. Sure, we have lederhosen and yodeling, but they don't count because we were serious about those. You might ask how on earth we could be serious about such cultural oddities. I answer with another German tradition: beer.

When aspiring speakers ask me if they can open their presentation with a joke, I suggest that they use humor instead. The term 'joke' hits me as being stand-alone and unrelated to a topic or theme. Effective humor is always organic, blending seamlessly with the topic and the audience.

Are isolated jokes funny? Sure they are. The vaudeville comedian Henny Youngman was famous for his disconnected one-liners. "My wife dresses to kill. She cooks the same way." But funny isn't the only criterion; for humor to work within a presentation, it has to be effective, appropriate, and supportive of the topic. You know - organic. Unrelated one-liners don't fit the definition. Besides, being able to tell a joke does not necessarily mean you have a good sense of humor; maybe you just have a good memory.

Organic humor is most effective when it's woven into a story. But for the humor to work along with the point of the story, you really have to know the story. Really know it. REALLY. Pittsburgh radio personality and storyteller Jack Bogut says that a good speaker practices a story until he gets it right. A professional speaker practices a story until he can't get it wrong. For any story - humorous or otherwise - to be effective, it must be told properly and flawlessly, and timing plays a major role.

This assumes you've mastered the basics, such as structure (beginning, middle, and end), progressive disclosure (what details you reveal and when you reveal them), and judicious use of dialogue and description. But it also includes minute details like the choice of language and the rhythm of the words. It isn't only poetry and song lyrics that have rhythm; so do prose and the spoken word.

Let's say you want to make a specific point using a humorous story as an illustration. Here's one for you. The state of New Mexico recently unveiled (if that's the right word) a series of public service announcements for the tipsy male from an unusual source: the urinal. Talking urinal cakes will spout messages in a female voice, such as the following: "Hey, you! Yeah, you! Having a few drinks? Then, listen up! Think you've had one too many? Maybe it's time to call a cab or call a sober friend for a ride home. It's sure safer and a hell of a lot cheaper than a DWI! Make the smart choice tonight. Don't drink and drive!"

(I don't know what you would illustrate with this story; that's your problem.)

The article I read didn't say how the talking urinal cakes are activated and I don't want to know. But a Department of Transportation spokesman is quoted as saying that the device is a great idea because it's guaranteed to get "ten or fifteen seconds of undivided attention." Wait a minute. If you're in a bar restroom and you can take care of business in ten or fifteen seconds, well, you're just not doing your part. And there's another problem. If the poor guy is really swacked and he's in there all by himself and suddenly hears a woman's voice coming out of the urinal ... that could really throw off his aim. Worst case scenario: there's a whole bank of urinals, each with its own babbling deodorizer, all being used at the same time. The cacophony could drive a man to drink.

Notice that each of my comments on the story ends in a one-syllable word. That isn't essential every time, but it's more effective. Find an amusing story in the newspaper or notice something funny at work, and then see what else it makes you think of. How much funnier can you make real life?

While Henny's one-liner would not fit into a speech or presentation, it offers some valuable examples of structure and rhythm. This joke has two parts, the setup and the snapper. "My wife dresses to kill. She cooks the same way." The setup has six syllables and the snapper has five, making only 11 syllables in the whole joke. And every word but one has only one syllable. That's tight and economical writing.

Let's try it another way: "My wife dresses to kill. You could say the same thing about her cooking." It makes the same point, but not as well. Too many words and too many syllables. Plus, the second sentence doesn't match the staccato rhythm of the first. In my bad example, I waited until the final word to reveal what is being compared to dressing, and that can be effective. But cooking has one syllable too many. Pay attention to the rhythm. A one-syllable word has more punch, especially if it's the last one.

Many audiences expect a presenter to attempt humor. If the presenter is not a professional speaker, they're also expecting the attempt to be lame. Surprise them.