Slate has a new article outlining and critiquing five leading theories explaining why humans laugh. I wish I had time to read the new book discussing the topic, but I don’t. I do; however, have my own hypothesis that I’ve been bandying about for years and it strikes me as both original and more explanatory than the prevailing models.
As is the case with all my crank notions, I encourage you to shoot it down.
“Patterns” are the building blocks of human thought, and humans are overclocked for pattern recognition. Not only are we capable of detecting very subtle patterns that arrive via our senses, we’re even prone to detecting patterns where none exist. Whether it’s the “man on the moon”, the Virgin Mary on a grilled cheese sandwich, or numerological and astrological nonsense, our appetite for patterns is a voracious one, one that often outstrips supply.
The word “appetite” is operative, as our circuitry is apparently designed to reward the recognition of patterns. In its evolutionarily ideal form, this manifests as not only “learning”, but learning things that improve one’s chances of survival and reproduction. But just as the dog’s reproductive instincts can be misdirected toward the human leg and the human’s digestive instincts can be misdirected toward McDonald’s, this “educational instinct” can be misdirected toward humor.
The wave of euphoria overcoming a person laughing is the body’s way of rewarding the recognition of a pattern. From personal experience, I can attest that I often find myself grinning warmly or even chuckling when reading a line of political commentary that’s neither “funny” nor intended to be “funny”. While I rarely burst out in laughter when I comprehend something insightful, I often cackle with glee when I have a breakthrough or an epiphany.
(Discerning whether this is due to the common thread of pattern recognition running through both humor and learning or whether this is due to the impending madness of a psychologically troubled blogger is an assignment for the reader.)
Humans have been selected very intensely for the capacity to learn, but they must have also been selected very intensely for the compulsion to learn. No other creature’s survival depends as singularly on pattern recognition as ours. According to this model, our neurochemistry would reward us more acutely than it rewards any other creature, thus resolving one of the greater riddles of humor: Why only humans laugh.
Humor’s utility as a social bonding tool is tertiary. Mutually indulging in pleasure-inducing behavior promotes and enhances socialization. We go through the trouble of making others laugh for the same reason we make others meals, and we feign laughter in a social context even when the pattern is unremarkable for the same reason we feign satisfaction while eating unremarkable meals prepared by social partners (sorry, hun…).
The general mechanism of the physical act of laughter isn’t explained by this theory, though the theory points in the direction of a distinct class of stereotyped convulsive reactions to intense stimulation. Especially hungry people often experience convulsive waves of pleasure when feasting, often accompanied by audible moans and groans. Humans orgasming experience similarly spasmodic movements and make similarly nonsensical noises, with the sexual orgasm being perhaps the closest in nature to the act of laughter.
Matt Parrott
mindweapon
Somehow I feel that this is also related to wanting to please others and be a lemming. By being a part of the group and adapting, we think we’re satisfying the learning/pattern-need, while we’re just being stupid. Just an intuitive thought on the subject.
There’s always the danger of arriving at a dusty, dry-bones theory when attempting to deconstruct the nature of a complex system using linear analysis.
I tend to think that humor, with its various manifestations, motivations, and broad impacts, may be one of these topics.
“Why do we laugh?” might be asking a misleading question. Organic systems develop… organically. Thus there may not be a single “reason” for humor which can ever be isolated.
My guess is that there’s probably layers and layers to humor. Perhaps the wetware for humor evolved for one purpose (say, to demonstrate mental acuity/superiority or as a social lubricant), but then that capacity forked off into numerous other uses and functions, each of which continued to both separately and collectively evolve in myriad ways.
All that being said, I do think you’re on to something. The “joy” of pattern recognition seems to play an important role in many types of humor (scatological and physical humor notably excepted).
However, I’d suggest that it’s probably just one ingredient found in many humor soups. Perhaps an enumeration of various humor types would help to expose the length and breadth of humor’s integration into our social fabric, which then might lead to a better understanding of its various purposes.
Erik,
I agree there’s definitely a social dimension to it, but I believe we need some sort of explanation for why our simply and healthy mammalian compulsion to socialize is manifested in this unique way in our species.
Randy,
I’m very much at risk here of arriving at the sort of over-simplified singular answer that would make for a good Psychology Today cover story.
I would argue that scatalogical humor can be explained as recognizing and acknowledging behavioral patterns. For example, breaking wind isn’t amusing unless there’s a second person present and at least one of the parties experiencing the event recognizes the social taboo against breaking wind. Slipping on a banana peel is amusing only if it’s a “surprise”, that is, an opportunity to recognize a deviation from the expected pattern of walking down a street.
I may be concocting something that’s unfalsifiable in my efforts to apply this hypothesis in these contexts, but I believe inverting the question and asking why and when passing gas is not funny confirms that the form of humor can be explained by a combination of surprise and social amplification of positive experiences. For example, Sarah Silverman’s vulgar shtick is amusing to the extent that she successfully constructs a pattern of poise and restraint which she subsequently deviates from.
Matt,
You make a few more good points, but I’d suggest that both scat and pratfall humor incorporate additional components other than surprise and taboo. Both seem to have a certain idiosyncratic cultural resonance which in some cases appears to also be shared with other higher apes.
In other words, poop jokes appear have a certain ancient and primal something which makes them unique in addition to the elements of surprise and social taboo which you mention. Pratfall humor likely incorporates components of social dynamics such as shame, hierarchy, etc which give them a unique twist.
I’d suggest that while various types of humor often share a common set of basic characteristics, each requires other specific elements and contexts to effectively define them.
Witness the witless “spoof” movies of late which fail miserably at satire or parody as they simply regurgitate common cultural references without containing the clever bite and astringency which those humor forms require to be effective.
Larry Niven explained laughter as “an interrupted defense mechanism”. Nailed it.
The wave of euphoria overcoming a person laughing is the body’s way of rewarding the recognition of a pattern.
Moments after the insight that E=MC^2 Albert Einstein keeled over dead from laughter.
I think this notion holds water. I remember I once looked at the graph of the function, f(x) = e^x, contrasted with a graph of the derivative, f’(x). Upon looking at the graphs of these two functions, I began cracking up for some reason.
Errata: it was f(x) = log x and its derivative.
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