Confessions of a Laughter Addict

Mum says I was always laughing as a child. I like to think this is a good thing, even if her memories are likely to be a bit skewed. Whether I did or didn’t laugh frequently when I was a toddler, my relationship with laughter was born out of that idea being presented as a good thing, and a thing that came naturally to me. It’s true, I do love to laugh and until embarking on the study of laughter and how to harness its benefits, I had never really reflected on its importance in my development.

We know that laughter is a play signal and children laugh many times more than adults. Somehow we learn to shut this off as we develop. Showing vulnerability is not something congruent with 21st century living, and laughter opens us up to others a bit like how a dog will present a tummy for a rub when playing – expressing trust by showing a vulnerable side. So, like all children I laughed in the playground building friendships – testing things out with other young people through play and exploration.

I also remember when we were slightly older, maybe ‘tweenagers’, how we would go to the library if we were bored. This was not because we wanted to study or read, but because we knew we would get a fit of hysterics being in a place where noise or laughter was forbidden. Unwittingly, I was embarking on finding laughter without humour as a feel-good practice, one of our aims at Laughter Lab. There was nothing funny in the silence of the school library, only a common understanding between friends that we were breaking rules through laughter. This is not surprising as research suggests that incongruence is a driving factor behind amusement; the mismatch of what we expect to happen with what actually happens in a funny story when our expectations are duped and we laugh. Being in a library was not synonymous with anything funny and so we laughed because of the mismatch. Research trying to understand why we want to laugh at inappropriate times considers that our body will react with an external behaviour when confronted with a surge of emotion. Sometimes the behaviour is not always what we expect. If you couple this with the hormonal turmoil of teenagers, it is hardly surprising laughter can be a reaction that may seem inappropriate to what us adults deem to be a serious matter. Like being quiet in a library!

Late teens found me sexually charged and looking for romance with boys I found funny. Like many women, the ability to make me laugh outweighed physical attraction. This has stayed a constant. Research into dating ads shows that a sense of humour is widely sought and couples that laugh together are more likely to go the distance. Laughter is a connector and we laugh more with those we like and love than those we find funny. I certainly don’t underplay the significance of humour in finding a life partner - if you meet someone funny, it is a good starting point to get the laughter going. We also have to be mindful here that laughter has been linked to the show of subservience. Laughing positively at someone (as opposed to derision) can reinforce a pecking order and women tend laugh more at men as a social norm. It could be that men are ‘funnier’, but whilst there is still a lack of gender parity, it is more likely that we have learnt to demonstrate behaviour that reinforces gender dominance. Women can be funnier than men and social norms can lead us to think otherwise. So, as Billy Connolly tells us, when it comes to judging women, stay awake.

In my early twenties I started to supplant music gigs with comedy clubs and was lucky enough to see some of today’s great stand-ups test out their early material; comedians like Eddie Izzard, Harry Hill and Bill Bailey performing in small rooms at the back of pubs. For years I annually attended the Edinburgh Fringe Festival where I cemented friendships with performers and got to understand the art of making people laugh and the feel-good reciprocity between comedian and audience. I am still in awe at the bravery comedians demonstrate, exposing themselves to a mass of potential criticism and ridicule. They have all endured some terrible experiences with tough crowds or delivering material that didn’t hit the mark. To me this demonstrates that success really does comes from vulnerability and that by being vulnerable, great relationships (and in the case of comedy, audience rapport) is built.

In my last article I discussed how I have managed tough times through finding the funny side of things. Most of the time, there is always something to laugh at and whilst studying for my MSc in Positive Psychology and researching my character strengths, I found that humour was core to who I was. Quite simply, personal research showed me that I am someone who likes to laugh and be with people who make me laugh and if the chips are down, laugh.

Whilst laughter is predominantly positive, it is because of my natural attraction to laughter that it has not always been kind to me. Over the years I have compromised relationships and upset people by getting it very wrong. Whilst I like to think my intentions come from a good place, my propensity to manage difficult situations with humour or laugh in the face of adversity has led to misunderstandings. I have learnt this the hard way and I recognise my part in those errors of judgement, and like an addict, I have to check-in with my laughing habit every day – making sure I’m getting it right and that my behaviour reflects my true intentions. I’m sure you have also experienced that ‘putting your foot in it’ moment at one time or another. Like all behaviours, we need to use laughter judiciously because it can be a weapon as well as a tool.

I have come to understand how and when I use laughter without taking the fun out of it. Using it allows me to build new relationships and deepen existing ones. It helps me to overcome negative thoughts and anxiety and leaves me feeling physically energised.

Now, this is my personal journey and may in part explain how I came to co-found Laughter-Lab with Anna. We are all different and humour may not be your thing and that’s okay. But I suspect you always feel better after a good laugh.

Spend some time thinking about how you have found solace and support in laughter since your early years. What has changed that has meant you use it less as an adult? How can you harness that energy?

Jane