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Humor

Two Words That Can Change the World

From an improvisational theater exercise, what can we learn about being human?

Fer Gregory/Shutterstock
Source: Fer Gregory/Shutterstock

Yes, … and.

When you hear these words, what comes to mind? Enthusiasts of improvisational theater will recognize this as an exercise that is often used as a warm-up for a comedy team. It’s a very simple but amazingly powerful tool for raising and aligning the energy of the team. Members of the team (any number of people from 5-10) take turns saying a word or two, free-associating random ideas, that are hopefully funny and often outrageous. The only rule is that each member must start by saying, “yes, … and”. What does that do? The process fosters a mindset of building on what other people are saying or feeling.

Isn’t the first “yes” a respectful acknowledgment of the previous speaker? Respect doesn’t require agreement or even an address of the content of what has been said. This is a fundamental kind of respect for a person, another human being, who is entitled and encouraged to speak his or her mind freely, without fear of being judged in any way.

Isn’t this an amazing way to live and demonstrate the value of respect for one another? Would you feel comfortable in such a situation? If not, why not? When you say something, what kind of response do you expect? In the context of improv, there is no expectation other than free expression, i.e., no negative energy should be contributed by anyone. The element of humor is critically important in helping drive cycles of positive energy, positive-feedback loops. Good feelings beget good feelings.

Just as negative feelings encourage more negative feelings, it’s easy to criticize others, to find fault and blame. Even when accountability and responsibility must be accepted, how does the criticism contribute to a positive outcome? In legal proceedings, the law explicitly avoids emotional language. Focus on the facts. If you do something illegal, such as physically injuring someone, the law provides specific penalties for such behavior. Consider what might be the consequences if a jailed prisoner were subjected to daily lectures criticizing him as a person, presented from the point of view of a disapproving parent. Might that constitute “cruel and unusual punishment”? Of course not, but what would happen to the prisoner’s mindset, after months and years of such verbal abuse? Does that punishment “fit the crime”? At least in the US, it doesn’t appear we believe in this approach. In China, however, during the worst years of the Mao regime, this type of group and self-criticism was very much practiced in families and communities, including work groups. I’m sure this has been studied for its psychological consequences.

Back to humor. Humor is fascinating. It can help us bond with strangers whose interests and values may be totally different from our own. Each of us responds to different kinds of humor. What is funny to me may be boring to you. That’s all ok. Humor can be sharp, humor can be dark, humor can be used as a powerful weapon to attack or defend. BUT–the humor of free association in the context of improv is different, and precisely because the starting point is “yes, … and”. How can “yes,… and” become any kind of weapon? The phrase implies “let’s look at our commonality”, even if that is at the most basic level of what makes us human. It doesn’t divide people into groups, it doesn’t distinguish left, right, or centrist politics, or religious beliefs. We all have to eat, drink, sleep and poop. One way or another.

Some people might respond by saying that “yes, … and” is not respectful because follow-on comments can be rude, irrelevant or disconnected. Aren’t those judgments based on certain expectations? Since the context is a group exercise in communication, this is not the same as a conversation with a specific purpose. The only intention is encouragement of the free expression of thoughts and feelings. How often do we give ourselves the pleasure of such an experience–sharing the positive energy of togetherness, of uncritical acceptance of who we truly are, with particular emphasis on what we feel is fun and funny about life?

Do we feel we need to ask for permission to be smart, silly or funny? To connect honestly with other people, whether they are complete strangers or friends or family? To get to know them in ways that are not accessible through any other means?

I use this exercise in my entrepreneurship courses as a way for teams to discover what alignment feels like. Students who are unfamiliar with the process tend to start off feeling very stiff and uncomfortable. They want to know what is expected of them, even in a “fun game”. What should they say? What will the instructor and other students think of them? How literally should they take the instruction “build on the last speaker”? They tend to want to tell long stories, in sentences, rather than a word or two. You can almost see their brains working feverishly to think of something meaningful or worthwhile to offer to the group. Eventually, they realize all the layers of judgment, self-censorship, of insecurity, are inhibiting their creativity, fun and ability to be spontaneously funny. Ironically, students who have the strongest academic track records may have the most difficulty with this exercise, because the conventional tools they’ve mastered are inappropriate and counter-productive. Equally shocking—how often have you found yourself saying something hilarious, all the more because the words came out without forethought?

This is also an indirect exercise in leadership. In a performance, an improv troupe doesn’t require a “designated leader”. Instead, the concept of leadership is fluid, shared, and collaborative. Good, funny ideas can come from anyone, at any time, with or without preparation or invitation. A foundation of trust is necessary and must include “forgiveness of sins”, which is a major aspect of respect.

What better way to bring people together than through mutual respect? Is there any other way?

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