SK: Julian, thanks for writing this paper for us. Could you begin by summarizing it, please.
JB: I am trying to describe the ways in which I think you can do philosophy with comedy and within comedy. We are used to philosophy's medium as one of academic treaties, but that does not exhaust how we do and can do philosophy, and what its possibilities are. As I mention, I am inspired by Stephen Mulhall's suggestion concerning film as philosophy. I am, in basic terms, considering what philosophy does and is: what its aims, methods, styles, and subject matter are. I consider how these find expression in comedy, but with a hint that Mulhall's general suggestion could find expression in other media also. Indeed, I think there is something interesting about comedy as it can get to the essence of ideas and arguments, and this lends itself nicely to being a form of philosophy. Of course, not all comedy or all good comedy is philosophical, and not all philosophy, or good philosophy is or can be comic. But I do think that there are some examples of comedy, and some examples of that which are good examples of what comedy is, that are also philosophical. In some cases, their being good examples of comedy, and being examples of good comedy, is in part due to them being philosophical.
To take one example, a good comic will often boil things down to a nub or an essence, and use words, their performance, and their whole craft to get at a joke and convey it. Sometimes that fits a broad philosophical mode, such as reductio ad absurdum. Reductio is a philosophical move or method that is suited to comedy, since comedy is a perfect vehicle for delivering it. With certain styles of comedy, writers and performers strip away some of the details to get at the essence of what is going on so as to make fun of something, and that is in effect what happens with a reductio, particularly if it is done well and hits home. Sometimes, comedy can do things subtly and get us to attend in particular sorts of way and articulate different worldviews, as I point out in the article.
GAF: I would like to start by discussing the relationship with the film as philosophy debate (see, for example, Mulhall, Reference Mulhall2002; Smith, Reference Smith and Thomson-Jones2016; and Wartenberg, Reference Wartenberg and Thomson-Jones2016). So in that debate broadly the idea is that the aims of philosophy are in tension with the aims of film. No one thinks that every film has to be philosophical, and no one is thinking that the filming of a philosophy lecture is a counterexample to the claim that films cannot count as philosophy. So the debate has broadly coalesced around the issue of whether or not the respective aims of the two activities mesh.
In a similar vein, one might think that there is a tension between comedy and philosophy. One of the things that philosophy should try to do, be it in its modern academic setting or more generally, is conduct itself according to a principle of charity: trying to understand one's discussant and even opponent, and presenting the best version of what they are saying. In contrast, the key aim of comedy is to be funny or raise a laugh, or something similar. A philosophical idea might be the vehicle of that, but some of the aims of philosophy will be subordinate to it. In particular, the principle of charity that seems important for philosophy might be subordinate to or even get in the way of comedy. One of the ways in which one can raise a laugh is by presenting a skewed or incomplete or otherwise flawed version of an idea or position that one is then attacking or making fun of. So comedy is often sacrificing one of the key aspects of philosophy. It does not have to, but it very often does and that is because the respective aims of comedy and philosophy are more often than not in tension.
So, for instance, there is a superficial way of understanding what Pascal was doing with his wager, to use your example from the paper. But one of the aims of philosophy, and particularly of philosophical scholarship, is to ask of us to give detail and truth. There is a more sophisticated way of understanding what Pascal was doing with probability theory and religion that isn't captured by the one-liner we all seem to know about him and his wager (see Franklin, Reference Franklin, Bartha and Pasternack2018). So I agree that both philosophy and comedy are supposed to pay attention to things, but the aims are different and so often the ways in which this is done are different.
This links to what you say about reductio ad absurdum arguments. I agree that comedy is nicely set up to deliver such arguments and ideas. But it often does that by making the author or speaker look a bit silly because it will often be uncharitable to them. This is not just uncharitable. At times comedy can be a form of bullying, of taking advantage of someone who expresses their view in less-than-optimal ways.
JB: So, I think I have addressed this in the paper already, although this helps to clarify what I am saying. I think you are right that some comedy can be and is uncharitable. But that doesn't oppose what I say, since I am only saying that some examples of comedy can be and are examples of philosophy, not that all comedy is or can be philosophical. Indeed, I suspect that most examples of comedy in its various forms aren't examples of philosophy. (The same seems to be true of films, of course.)
But what of the aims? Well, I agree that being charitable is important, indeed central, to philosophy. Is lack of charity inherent to the medium of comedy? I am not sure. I think that The Simpsons, for example, contains a lot of charity to those it makes fun of. For a start, everyone comes out being mocked. And, secondly, there are some episodes that are quite sophisticated, such as the ‘Homer Badman’ episode I mention in the paper, whereby what is mocked is a lazy understanding of standpoint theory, and the episode itself suggests a better understanding.
So, I want to maintain the following. First, that charity is important and central to philosophy. Second, that some or most comedy is not philosophical for a variety of reasons. Indeed, third, perhaps some comedy could be philosophical but isn't because it needs to be more charitable. But, I can also maintain that some examples of comedy are examples of philosophy, and they might be good examples and are being charitable. But, here is a different point. Perhaps sometimes the lack of charity is not the be-all and end-all of philosophy. Yes, we have to think about what people are trying to do and get the details right. Yet, sometimes we also need to look at what they are saying in the end. There is something to be said for striking at the heart of an idea and position, in ignoring some of the details and the nuance, and presenting the final view. Some ideas really are poor ones, even if the intentions behind them are good, and we need to find a way to say that. We do that in philosophy, and particularly in modern, academic philosophy. (For example, although you are right about Pascal, it is also true that his wager really is something he said and a conclusion of some things he said.) Comedy is nicely placed to point out the shortfalls of ideas in a snappy way, and often it will try to do it to mock. Of course, sometimes we want to get at the heart of an idea and be positive about it. Comedy can also do that nicely and applaud, as well as mock.
GAF: Let me have another go. I think the claim is or can be more nuanced than this. Can some films be philosophical? Well, filmed philosophy lectures are, but no one in the film as philosophy debate is focusing on them. We are talking about regular films and movies. Can they be philosophical? Possibly. The key debate is concerned with the aims of films and philosophy, and whether they are in tension with one another or whether they coincide such that one could aim to make a film that was also a piece of philosophy, and didn't happen to be philosophical by accident.Footnote 1 My question is whether the aims of comedy and the aims of philosophy coincide and whether works of comedy can aim at being works of philosophy. My worry is that someone might argue that the aims are in tension. If one can choose between a punchline to get a laugh or the charitable interpretation where one is called for and which might not get a laugh, in comedy one will always choose the former and in philosophy one will always choose the latter – or should do so.
JB: Well. Okay. I'll answer that but at some point I think it would be worth hearing Chelsea's perspective on this as a practicing comedian.
Here's a response from me, though. First, it might vary from comic to comic. Some comedians might go for the cheap joke at the expense of charity. Some other comedians – performers or writers – create a different act or piece. For some comedians there will be different tactics and strategy to create the context of an overall show. I can imagine that if your show is based around a fairly serious matter then you will want to land some punches and it's not going to work if it's simple caricature, and boring caricature at that. There is a market for comedy that does that, and some people laugh at it. But comedy that is only caricaturing people with no substance behind it ends up not being very funny very quickly for many people.
Secondly, I think it is worth pointing out that some philosophers mix up nuance and charity with quick ideas and cheap shots as a way to get their ideas or counters across. This has happened to me in conferences and talks with some professional academic philosophers. That of course doesn't address the main point of your idea about aims in tension, Graeme, but it does show that in practice philosophy isn't as pure as we sometimes might think it is.
CB: So, I certainly can imagine that in the context of performing a set, you might sacrifice charity and nuance for a cheap gag, and you might do that if the audience is challenging. However, as Julian mentions, there can be different ways to write and create a show and different ways to act in the moment. So even if I go for a cheap gag, I might then draw attention to the cheapness of the gag and its lack of nuance and charity, and then unpack that in a funny way, perhaps drawing attention to myself, or to the audience and what we just did together, or something similar. That can be made funny and be the basis of a good routine or piece of writing. Through that one can draw attention to the idea of understanding people and being charitable, of course.
There is also something to be said about the character of the comedian. They might be an unreliable narrator, of course, but also they can play as a type of fool or idiot. This is really relevant to how the joke and whole set is seen.
JB: Sure. So, I think Graeme is imagining someone having charity towards their discussant or opponent as a way of being fair, but ridiculing yourself if you perform as a type of idiot is also a way of levelling the playing field: ‘Look I'm saying this, but I'm actually an idiot also, you know.’
SK: Yes, one small point from me. You mentioned earlier, Julian, the point about mocking everyone. Of course, that is different from exercising a principle of charity. In the case of the latter you are understanding people, in the case of the former you are making no attempt to understand anyone, but at least you are doing it fairly. But, in the context of an act, if one performs as a fool or an idiot, and say obviously idiotic things about others’ views, this itself can show that the stance you take towards others is silly. That isn't quite exercising a principle of charity but can be a way of showing how not doing so is wrong.
JB: Yes, quite. That's the kind of idea I had in mind.
CB: That leads me to raise a different point, if that's okay. This helps to put the positive case, in the spirit of Julian's paper, and concerns how comedy can be a vehicle for difficult ideas, and I mean specifically morally difficult ideas. Plus, the expression of those ideas itself can be good or bad. I have in mind an edgy example with a difficult message.
There is a UK comedian called Alfie Brown. He has a small routine where he is imagining driving his younger sister to school and he sees a gorgeous teenage girl who he is attracted to. As part of the routine he has his mother say that he shouldn't think what he is thinking because this girl is in his sister's year at school. And he goes from this part to imagining edgy comedians in other countries doing the same type of skit but with higher ages of consent. So he is getting the audience to imagine that it will be edgy in those countries for the comedian to be talking about 18- or 20-year-olds, or some other similar age. He is getting us to reflect on the idea of age of consent and how it differs across countries. And that is an interesting topic but also a very difficult topic. Because of his easy style he can get us to imagine our way into that difficult and possibly morally dubious idea and debate. That itself is dangerous. It is a type of seduction as well. But there is no doubt that this is comedy and performance that is a type of philosophy.
GAF: That's a nice example. There's a topic that helps to extend what you are saying that I know a few philosophers and linguists are starting to discuss. For want of a better expression, we can call it ‘dramatic truth’. We might find the idea coming from the ‘truth in fiction’ literature, and a contrast with ‘semantic truth’ (See Kim, Reference Kim2021; Woodward, Reference Woodward2011 might also be helpful). The idea is not that you are saying things and making statements that are literally truthful and true in an everyday way. Rather the discussion is trying to get at expressions and ways of communication that are authentic in some fashion. (Questions arise then about what might be the link between literal truth and authenticity, how we might characterize authenticity in this context, and so on.) The example of Alfie Brown seems to illustrate that as well. He doesn't straightforwardly discuss the rights and wrongs of ages of consent. But he draws attention to this issue and indicates a (difficult) tension. If it works as a routine, perhaps one of the reasons is because it is truthful in the sense I have gestured towards.
JB: The basic mode of doing philosophy in the West for so long has been to make everything explicit, but that isn't the only way to do it. There's this well-known line from The Analects where Confucius says that he shows people three corners of a square and if they cannot know or fill in the fourth for themselves, then he can't teach them anything (Analects, VII.viii). It is to point out, in an elliptical way, that philosophical texts also require input from the reader. I happen to think that's a good way of doing philosophy. Certainly if you are teaching or writing a paper you have to be, and need to be, explicit about many things. But not always and not about everything. The way the Alfie Brown routine sounded to me was that he was getting people to fill in the ideas themselves, by drawing attention to things as Graeme indicates. Depending on how it is done, it could be forcing people to think through the implications of accepting what might seem to them to be an inclusive, non-judgmental relativistic position.
It shows again that there are different ways of doing philosophy, and certain styles and examples of comedy are good ways of doing philosophy and getting us to think philosophically.
CB: When you talk about the Analects, Julian, it reminds me of something Jerry Seinfeld says:
The setup kinda defines the end of the cliff that you're gonna get the audience to jump from and the punchline is the cliff on the other side that they have to reach. Now the distance between those two determines if they laugh. If it's too far, they don't make the other side. They fall into the ravine. If it's too close, there was no thrill. There's no titillation. There's no laugh. So the setup has to be the proper distance from the punchline to make that mechanism that causes a laugh work. (Seinfeld in Wilde, Reference Wilde2000: chapter on Jerry Seinfeld).
Comedians need to judge the right amount of time and space between set-up and punchline. Both can be good and fit nicely with each other, but if they are too close or too far away the audience can't make the right sort of jump from one to the other.
SK: I'd like to summarize and introduce a new point. So, we have first the challenge concerning comedy as philosophy with reference to the film as philosophy debate. Here we have to consider the aims of both activities and whether they are in tension. Second, we have a thought that some comedy can act in a philosophical mode: comedy often asks us to fill in things – ideas, jokes – ourselves, as members of an audience. Philosophy has done this and perhaps there is an implication that it should be more open that this is what it does and can be.
Here is a new point that comes out of these two thoughts, I think. When you gave the paper at the conference, Julian, some people were worried about your central claim. As the discussion developed there seemed to be a real strength of the position that needs highlighting. In the paper you discuss both comedy and philosophy paying attention to details and drawing our attention to them. We can widen that. What both comedy and philosophy do – in drawing attention to certain details and in what aims they have as they do this – is to create and articulate certain worldviews. Kant, Aristotle, Nietzsche, Hume, and others aren't just giving us isolated ideas and drawing attention to specific thoughts only. In doing so they articulate a certain perspective about the world. Even if modern day philosophers might be more piecemeal at times because of the restrictions of publishing, they are still articulating or working within broader perspectives, such as materialistic naturalism. Certain comedians do this as well. There is a particular worldview you get from Stewart Lee or Ricky Gervais or Sarah Silverman. Of course, that is also true of certain scientists, dramatists, and poets. But the way in which some comedians try to create a worldview and in doing so draw attention to ideas, articulate them, challenge us, leave things somewhat ambiguous perhaps, has affinities with different ways of doing philosophy.
JB: Yes, that's right. I think my thoughts about Monty Python are very much in keeping with this. Some sketches are definitely articulating and playing around with obviously philosophical ideas, such as Python's Argument Sketch. But throughout the series and the films we have worldviews presented. In The Life of Brian, for example, the major theme is a type of scepticism of organised religion with several thoughts voiced. The end song, ‘Always Look on the Bright Side of Life’, can be seen as just as silly song, but it encapsulates something that is a major theme of Python: there can be pain and tragedy in life, but we should embrace that and still be silly and optimistic.
GAF: Let me play Devil's advocate again and come back on something Simon says. Some comedians might well articulate worldviews, as do many philosophers, and doing so seems to be the aim of both. But, as Simon indicates, so do many other academic disciplines and artistic activities. So, is there anything special here that marks out the connection between comedy and philosophy?
JB: Well, I worry about this sort of question. For a start, we might not need anything that marks out the special connection between comedy and philosophy. Perhaps many things are philosophical in the way they articulate worldviews. Perhaps some parts of science are philosophical; in fact, that seems true! Second, of course perhaps we could find something quite narrow that links only philosophy with only comedy: perhaps only some examples of philosophy and examples of comedy play around with words in quite this way. But by narrowing to this extent, we might find that we have missed out on what makes philosophy special in general and what makes comedy special in general, and perhaps missed out some forms or examples of both. So, I worry about the framing of the question. Indeed, to broaden things out somewhat, I think that most forms and examples of comedy are not examples of philosophy, but that doesn't mean it isn't worth thinking about those examples of comedy that are examples of philosophy to show that comedy can be philosophy.
I suppose if I had to give a response it would be the uninformative answer that those forms of comedy that articulate a philosophical worldview are those that give us ideas and connections between them, and enable us to think through phenomena in the world. But that doesn't mark comedy out as unique in this regard, as I've said. I presume it is harder to do this in some activities, such as pottery and architecture, although it might still be possible especially if one thinks about what it is to ‘present an idea and make an audience question the world’, since architecture can do that. It just can't do that with words. It does it with the manipulation of space, light, and materials. But there are some cultural activities, particularly those that use words such as literature and drama, that are closer to what we are used to with philosophy, both in its modern academic form and others forms, too. Comedy obviously comes in here as a special form of drama. Stand-up has a particular form as it is a type of (normally) one-person monologue that addresses the audience in some way and so is particularly well suited to articulating ideas and worldviews to make people think if the performer so chooses.
GAF: Okay, so I see that. I still worry and come back to my original point. The aims of philosophy and the aims of comedy seem to be in some tension: one is after truth and understanding, and the other is fundamentally about entertainment and, say, causing amusement. So even if there are a few cases where you get overlap and coincidence, that might only be showing us something special about those examples. It isn't saying anything special about comedy and philosophy as such, even accepting that it will be only a minority of comic examples that will be examples also of philosophy. And that goes for articulation of ideas or worldviews or calling attention to specific details, or whatever else we say.
JB: Sure. I understand the point. But to me the objection hinges on a questionable thought. Can we really talk in a meaningful way at the right level of granularity about the aims or objectives of comedy and philosophy, and even of film for that matter? And I take it that what we mean here is all comedy and all philosophy and all film. There is such diversity in philosophy, say. Perhaps you try to sweep that diversity away and arrive at fairly high-level aims. What are we trying to do when we philosophize: to find truth, gain understanding, be epistemically respectable? Those aims, interpreted in a certain way, could conflict amongst themselves. But say they don't. In some respect comedy aims at truth and will attend to particular details in order to fashion jokes, routines, and sketches. Of course, as you say, there are occasions where you might not tell all the truth or fashion some of the details in order to deliver a joke. Yet, as we have also said, if one is constantly doing that as an entertainer, then one is doing a certain form of comedy that might get a bit boring. Many forms of comedy use and indeed rely on us attending to truth and attending to certain details in order both to entertain and tell jokes, but to do so in a satisfactory way that enables the audience to think about the world and what the comedian is drawing their attention to. I still think that The Simpsons, Monty Python, and many stand-up comedians do that in spades. And, I also think that the same thing can be said for films. The medium of film has a large variety of aims and objectives. One could narrow things down and arrive at some high-level aims, and perhaps ‘entertainment’ might be in there. But whilst some films are straightforwardly entertaining, including some comedies, many different films stretch the concept. Some people are ‘entertained’ by horror films, but many aren't and many who are attracted to horror films don't go because they are entertained. They want to be terrified. Plenty of other films do not entertain at all, in any sensible sense of the word, such as harrowing documentaries, or dramas set in concentration camps.
SK: I have quite a lot to say on this at this point. I'll confine myself to one reference point and one question. First, we are saying here, in common with many people, that one of the aims, perhaps the prime aim, of comedy and even just stand-up comedy, is to make people laugh (or smile, or guffaw, or whatever) in an entertaining way. There is a very interesting book I have read recently, Isn't That Clever by Steven Gimbel (Gimbel, Reference Gimbel2017). Gimbel is both a philosopher and has also performed as an amateur comedian for a while. The point of the book is to think about what unites all comedic things as comedic things. (And his focus is very much on professional comedy as a form of art-entertainment.) His thesis is in contrast to the predominant view. The predominant view is to think about the response side, and to think about laughter and joy and other such responses as a way of getting at what comedy is. His focus is on the stimulus and creation side. Whilst comedy can make us laugh, and that is often what comedians are trying to do, the best way of characterizing comedy, he thinks, is as playful cleverness. So, the aim of comedy is to say clever things in a playful way, I suppose, not (primarily) to make people laugh. He begins the book to show that we make jokes and make comments that can be and often are amusing for a whole host of reasons: not just to make other people laugh, but also to amuse ourselves, to show off, to put people down and so on. So, given what we have just been saying about entertainment, one could say that one of the aims of comedy is to entertain. But we can narrow that a bit, and running with Gimbel's idea, is to talk of comedy being a type of playful cleverness. And the responses to it can often be laughter, but can also be admiration and appreciation, arched smiles, thoughts, and reflections. We are still at a level of generality, of course, and if we had more time we could think through the details. But I find this general idea very suggestive and fertile, both as a way of understanding professional comedy and of thinking through how comedy can be a form of philosophy.
The second thought I have is a question to Chelsea, having seen some of her material and sets. It strikes me that some of what you do, Chelsea, is philosophical: in the ideas that are voiced, in the attention to certain sorts of detail, and also in the choice of words and expressions used. Do you think that when you are writing and performing you are doing a form of philosophy? Obviously, you aren't writing journal articles or straightforwardly lecturing or teaching. But do you think of yourself as voicing ideas in the way that Julian is discussing?
CB: I certainly do! My 2022 Edinburgh show was called No More Mr. Nice Chelsea (Birkby, Reference Birkby2022). It was an exploration of what it is to be nice and what makes us good people. I wrote out an argument and a set of straight, non-comedy reflections to go alongside my comedy material to help me get my points clear as I prepared to perform the material. If you are acting and potentially changing in the moment, you need to have a good sense of what you are thinking.
There are two thoughts that seem important to reference at this stage. First, there is the (clichéd?) thought that in art one shows but doesn't tell. So, typically in stand-up comedy, or in most other regular forms of comedy, one doesn't just stand up and lecture in an explicit and straightforward way. Of course, one can stand up and read out a lecture just as one can read out a letter or a list. One can read it ‘straight’ but in fact one is reading something in a funny way, and if one does it well, one can get a number of laughs because of how one reads it, pauses, looks at the audience and so on. But then it isn't really a shopping list and it isn't really a lecture. It's a performance of these things using the same written material but turning it into something different. And that is a rare type of performance anyway. A typical comedy set will use ideas and voice them but will point to them and show them or exemplify them or motion to them without saying them explicitly, at least not all the time. Again, the above example of Alfie Brown comes to mind.
The other thought that seems relevant is the distinction between art and craft, and whether we stretch that to include art and ‘craft-entertainment’. So, there is certainly a lot of craft and entertainment in stand-up comedy. There is plenty to learn and perfect about how to work a room, about how to place call-backs in your routine, how to pace things, and so on. And that craft really is geared towards making something that is simply a form of entertainment, something that makes people laugh and smile. But some performers are trying to do something as part of that or in addition: to make us think and see the world afresh, or change and challenge the form and to show us what is possible within comedy. Sometimes those two things can come together. When one is doing something like that, one has to be on top of one's craft but one is now thinking about one's performance in an artistic way. (And of course, in all of this, one can fall flat on one's face. One's craft might be poor. One might have high hopes for one's art but in fact it is shallow or dull or too weird.)
JB: I think that idea of ‘show don't tell’ is important and comes back to something Simon introduced about worldviews and perspectives. I think there is too much emphasis on philosophy being about arguments, particularly in ethics, and not enough emphasis on exploring and explicating a picture or a perspective. And that can be done in a variety of ways and using many methods. When we are responding to someone's philosophy the key move, I think, is not any argument, although it can be. The key move is where we recognize something and agree with it. That is obviously true with thought experiments, I think. They work, if they do, not because they are an argument, at least in the narrow sense of having premises and conclusions. They work because they pick out certain details in a familiar or arresting manner that we recognize as showing us something significant about the world.
When it comes to art and craft there is clearly a lot of craft involved in the arts, such as drama, painting, and writing. I am not a practising artist myself so I can't judge this, but I reckon that a lot of stand-up comedy that isn't ‘sheer’ entertainment is a ‘crafty art’!
GAF: An example from when we ran the event in May 2023 was Alexis Dubus who created the character of Bobby Goldfin, a goldfish comedian. He (Bobby) could remember all the set-ups but none of the punchlines. It was hilarious. It worked because we were filling in all the punchlines and could see immediately what he – both Alexis and the character – was doing and failing to do. It was an interesting playing with the format. It needed both an understanding of the craft and exercise of it. It was also a form of art as it allowed us to think about medium. Similarly, a lot of Monty Python sketches dispensed with punchlines and The Fast Show showed that you could create whole characters and series based mainly on punchlines with little to no set-up. Even if many jokes work with an explicit set-up and a punchline, it is worth remembering when we are philosophizing about comedy that some comedy doesn't need either, or certainly doesn't need them to be voiced or made explicit. (For example, contrast with Carroll, Reference Carroll1991, pp. 186–87. The audience's interpretation of the punchline that Carroll mentions might be even more important in making some assumed, implicit punchline or set-up explicit.)
SK: Can I take us on another notch and put another question to Julian, please. Julian, throughout the paper and our discussion you are putting forward the idea that comedy can be philosophy. We might disagree about whether that is true and also, perhaps, about the number of examples of comedy that are examples of philosophy and so on. But here is a new thought. We have mentioned other art forms, such as architecture and poetry. We can add forms of craft, such as cooking and carpentry. Comedy is a form of drama but, as we've said, it's often a one-person direct form of drama. It deals with words and through that creates images and voices ideas in the moment. It lends itself to direct engagement with audiences. One thing we might be inclined towards is what we can call the ‘strong line’ or the ‘strong Baggini’ line, namely: of all the artforms comedy is the best placed to have examples that are examples of philosophy, or one of the very few that are best placed. What do you think of this?
JB: My first response to this is that if I were to take the strong line, then it would see comedy with a cluster of other artforms, such as drama, literature, and film, and not out there on its own. I'm not sure if I would include poetry, but that might be controversial. I think I would have all these artforms there because they typically deal with words and ideas in a very obvious way and are less abstract than other art forms. Poetry obviously deals with words and ideas, but its expressions can often be more elusive and elliptical. (I'd have to think more about that, though.) No doubt my initial thought would rule out more abstract art forms and activities such as architecture, music, and pottery, although as I have indicated above, in their various ways they can be prompts for philosophical reflection.
GAF: Here are some more thoughts on this topic. First, I think that it is the stand-up performance tokens that matter, they're the artwork (or the main artwork), even if many individual performances will be part of a type, such as a series of live performances of the same (written down) show. Why say this? Well, a second point is that stand-up is a form of drama and whilst there are recordings, it is at its best when it is experienced live. It is an ephemeral art form in that regard. So, we might privilege performance tokens because each one is (very likely to be) unique. And here I am thinking not only of the performer, but also the audience. How the performer responds to the audience responding to them is crucial in the performance being the performance it is. For me that interaction is crucially part of the medium. Indeed, when one considers that as part of stand-up comedy, one realizes that a performance can be, or has the potential to be, quite experimental. That is not the only way in which an activity can be an art, of course. The writing of a play or a novel can be art, even if it is a one-way experience, or an artist putting something out to an audience. But it is an interesting feature of live comedic performance and gives it the potential to experiment in interesting ways, some of which can be artistic.
I should add that there is something similar that happens in philosophy, both modern academic philosophy and other forms. So, certainly there is the refined form of philosophy that has considered prose. However, there is also philosophy done in the moment with a group. One might give a talk to a seminar and then you and others play with the ideas expressed. This is not merely dissemination of ideas, but a form of doing philosophy itself. That discussion can be gladiatorial, of course, but it can also be playful and exploratory.
CB: The point about the importance of stand-up being a live medium is very significant and definitely helps to characterize it as the medium it is. So, to take a recent example, the show Nate – A One Man Show by Natalie Palamides. It explores themes of audience consent by interacting with them (Palamides, 2018). The recordings are great, but they don't do the live show justice. At various points when the show pauses and the audience is asked what they made of the previous part, you can feel the tension in the room, which is itself part of the show.
Here is one thought. We have mentioned the relationship between performer and audience and their interaction. We – or some of us! – are ready to allow comedy being philosophy, and we are happy to allow comedy to be a presentation of ideas, from performer or writer to others. I suppose we are happy to allow this even if there is no interaction between author/performer and audience. But, this assumes a view of philosophy which is very much one where the author articulates ideas that then reach an audience and where there is no assumed interaction, no feedback. But, the more we emphasize the fact that philosophy depends on interaction between philosophers in how the ideas are explored and refined, the more the essence of stand-up comedy as a live medium where the performer and audience interact becomes important to the question of whether comedy is philosophy. It is definitely true that one adapts one's act in the light of how the audience is reacting, as I've said, and as you move from one performance to the next, one is definitely thinking about audience reaction. You might realise that your articulation of an idea or a joke isn't working in the way you thought it should work, so you change your delivery or you drop something entirely.
JB: Certainly the text has for many years, and arguably a few centuries, has been seen as the core medium of philosophy, but there are other traditions that are suspicious of that and see philosophy as an inherently dialogical activity, with the text as secondary. And I suppose that's where I came in. I am interested in different ways in which we can do and have done philosophy. It strikes me as obvious that comedy can be a form of philosophy, for many of the reasons we have stated: it plays around with ideas, it articulates ideas often with words and striking images, it doesn't just have isolated ideas but it can articulate perspectives and worldviews, it draws attention to details in doing so, and it very often has a person interacting with others. That is the theory of course. In practice there are plenty of examples where comedy can be seen as being or doing philosophy, a few of which we have mentioned. None of this seems to me to be incidental to comedy. I think that comedy has a way of looking at the world and articulating views that can be very philosophical – of reaching for deeper understanding, of getting to the heart of matters, and so on. Whilst there might be some tension between entertainment and truth, we often find that in some examples what is consistently entertaining in a satisfying way is something that is truthful and which helps us to make sense of the world. That sounds pretty philosophical to me. I think the more difficult thesis to adopt and defend is that comedy is not philosophical and any examples that we find are not counterexamples to the claim but mere outliers or examples of philosophy that just so happen to amuse us. That seems a less natural idea to me.
SK: Thanks Julian. That seems like a good place to conclude. Thanks to you, Graeme and Chelsea, as well.