A Laughing Matter

In a world of jesters, is anyone really saying anything?

BY JASON CHANG

In the courts of the kings and queens of old, there was a figure immune from rebuke, whose voice rang through the halls and whose words were never questioned. It was not the monarchs but in fact the jester. These entertainers could get away with saying things most commoners could not—as long as they were funny. This was the origin of the phrase, “jester’s privilege”. They could get away with saying anything because, after all, nothing they said mattered. Who would heed the words of a lowly jester?

Conventionally, this privilege is discussed as a blessing—a haven from consequence and criticism, a get-out-of-jail-free card. After all, why should anyone give too much thought to a joke? Yet, perhaps it is more of a curse in nature. Yes, you can say anything because no one is listening! But you can say anything because no one is listening. The forum to speak freely is not the same as the opportunity to communicate. Disguised behind that veil of alluring safety is the slow, burning realization that no one is truly listening; that your words are given no weight and no mind. It’s the reality of being forced to operate under the assumption that every note and phoneme leaving your mouth is a hollow one, nothing more than meaningless quips made for shallow entertainment and soliciting no deeper cognitive effort.

In the modern age, we can all too often feel like jesters ourselves—our words allowed to flow freely, but our voices dismissed and ignored. In a world where every opinion from every person is broadcast far and wide, our voices can often feel invisible, dispelled without a second thought amongst the sea of exclamations incessantly battering against our minds. Technology may amplify voices, but with eight billion mouths all clamoring for attention, each individual one is diminished. Certain words are laughed off, taken as nothing more than a ridiculous joke, while other charged remarks are sheltered behind the notion that they were meant to be the same. From fifteen second TikToks to two-hundred-eighty word tweets, everyone talking and nobody listening, leaving us all to bear the jester’s curse.

However, are jesters’ words so meaningless after all? I would disagree. I’ve had some of my most shattering revelations with the credits of some trashy dramedy rolling the background or Bo Burnham serenading me about Pringles cans. In truth, humor is one of the most powerful rhetorical devices of all. From late night satirical talk shows to The Onion, it is the great equalizer, breaking through the mental defenses of Presidents and kindergarteners alike and powerfully potent in its abilities of persuasion. Like a bitter pill encased in sugar, we happily lap it all up, too busy laughing to question the contents wrapped inside. Even aside from argumentation, humor can be a capable tool, accomplishing everything from allowing oppressed groups to reclaim stereotypes (and in doing so, push back against them) to, as recounted by survivors of the Holocaust, helping victims endure the unimaginable pain of the atrocities committed upon them. A true chameleon of an art, humor can act as a crutch to a sword and everything in between.

Moreover, I cannot help but believe that even the most empty jokes still truly matter. Even the little, meaningless quips stay with me. The repetitive banter with my friends that never gets old; the same joke we’ve made a billion times before, still funny, still eliciting the same joy as the time before and every time before that. The witticism from the shy boy behind me in class that a select few of us heard. A laugh shared with a perfect stranger witness to the same bizarre coincidence, a beauty in a moment I will remember for a lifetime.

Sometimes, in the royal courts, even a jester would go too far. A risky joke that hit a little too close to home to someone a little too important or a statement too thinly veiled, and even a jester’s immunity would run out. But I can’t help imagining that maybe then they would finally be smiling. For better or worse, they knew that their words finally mattered, and they would have the last laugh.