In comedy, humor is binary. Something is funny—or it isn’t.
In most higher education settings, students and instructors self-identify their gender. Humorists don’t have that luxury. The audience decides whether we earn the label “funny.”
But applying humor’s strict binary standard to the classroom is a mistake.
In comedy, the goal is simple: get laughs.
In education, the goal is different: promote learning.
That means classroom humor operates under a different standard. The real question isn’t “Is this hilarious?” but “Does this help students learn?”
For comedians, lame humor is a failure. Humor lives in a pass–fail world.
In the classroom, however, lame can be useful.
A groan-worthy pun, a mild joke, or a slightly awkward gag can serve an important purpose. Humor signals to students that the instructor is trying to make the experience more engaging. Even modest humor can break tension, reset attention, and humanize the teacher.
This is especially true in the sterile environment of remote learning.
Any thoughtful attempt at humor sends a message to students: the instructor is working to make the course more enjoyable.
When I wear my humorist cape, my goal is simple—maximize the funny. Every bit, gag, and joke is designed to earn laughs.
But when I put on my Land’s End imitation tweed sport coat, the rules change.
The humor gets toned down. Punchlines get softened. My inner clown sheds a tear as a perfectly good joke fails the comedy world’s binary standard.
But if students remember the material instead of the joke…
then the tweed jacket has done its job.
And someday, if my students learn enough, I might even earn the right to wear real tweed.



