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'Ronald de Sousa, The Rationality of Emotion (Cambridge, Mass.: MIT Press, 1987),
pp. 289-95.
) Copyright 2005 by Social Theory and Practice, Vol. 31, No. 3 (July 2005)
309
[MJerely to know... [the sexist presuppositions of the joke] doesn 't make the joke funny...
... [T]o find the joke funny, the listener must actually share those sexist attitudes. In
contrast to the element of wit, the phthonic element in a joke requires endorsement ... It
does not allow of hypothetical laughter. The phthonic makes us laugh only insofar as the
assumptions on which it is based are attitudes actually shared. [Hence "[i]t is not a con
vincing defense to say, 'I was merely going along with the assumptions required to get
the point of the joke'."] ...
Although we cannot come to find something funny by merely imagining that we
share its phthonic assumptions, we intuitively know that sharing these assumptions is
what would enable us to find it funny ... [W]ithout the possibility of this sort of second
order knowledge ... there could be no criticism of other people's laughter.6
2Some other researchers have since concurred with de Sousa's position: e.g., Merrie
Bergmann, "How Many Feminists Does It Take to Make a Joke? Sexist Humor and
What's Wrong with It," Hypatia 1 (1986): 63-82. See also Jennifer Hay, "The Pragmatics
of Humor Support," Humor 14 (2001): 55-82, p. 76: "sometimes the 'humor' may depend
on sharing a certain attitude. Especially in examples such as ethnic or sexist humor, if the
hearer doesn't share a certain belief..., the joke may fall completely flat"; and p. 72: "Un
qualified support of humor [which includes laughter, contributing more humor, and play
ing along] implicates agreement with the message, including any attitudes, presupposi
tions or implicatures contained in the humor."
3De Sousa, The Rationality of Emotion, p. 290.
4Ibid.
5Ibid.
6Ibid., pp. 290-91.
It is far from clear how to analyze what is going on in the rape joke,
or why it is found to be funny—a truth about jokes that we will come to
see as applying much more widely. But de Sousa, it must be said, offers
a distinctly unusual, and unpersuasive, reading of the situation. He
claims that the joke "seems to imply ... the belief that all women secretly
want to be raped."7 Moreover, relying upon an informant who thought it
crucial to the joke to realize that the butt of the joke, M., was promiscu
ous (the original version of the joke referred explicitly by name to the
jet-setter Margaret Trudeau),8 de Sousa states that M.'s promiscuity "is
indeed a hypothetical assumption of the joke," and that on this under
standing, the joke presupposes two further "sexist assumptions" in addi
tion to the one I have mentioned: "that women's sexual desires are indis
criminate; and that there is something intrinsically objectionable or evil
about a woman who wants or gets a lot of sex"9 (the latter being part of
"the sexist double standard"10).
But none of this analysis is very convincing.11 For one thing, there is
no need for the hearer12 to generalize to all or even most women, regard
ing either their secret wishes or the indiscriminateness of their sexual
desires—particularly where the joke is heard as applying specifically to
one individual. Second, if M. is presumed or known to be promiscuous,
and (perhaps) thereby undiscriminating, then yes, the very fact of the
joke being told at her expense (not the content of the joke itself) does
imply that there is something in her character or conduct that deserves to
be poked fun at. But the poking involved in joking can be fond teasing,
or admiring ribbing, or gentle mocking, rather than the righteous scorn or
malicious contempt that de Sousa supposes.13 And it is very difficult to
7Ibid„ p. 290.
8Trudeau, the former wife of a 1970s-era Prime Minister of Canada, had been reputed
to have (following her separation from her much older husband) amorous involvements
with various musicians, actors, politicians, and professional athletes.
9De Sousa, The Rationality of Emotion, p. 290.
10Ibid,p. 291.
"The following critique of de Sousa's analysis departs substantially from the com
mentaries found in the existing literature, such as the perceptive discussions in Laurence
Goldstein, "Humor and Harm," Sorites 3 (1995): 27-42, pp. 29-30, and Robert C. Rob
erts, "Humor and the Virtues," Inquiry 31 (1988): 127-49, pp. 135-38. See also David
Benatar, "Prejudice in Jest: When Racial and Gender Humor Harms," reprinted in David
Benatar (ed.), Ethics for Everyday (New York: McGraw-Hill, 2002), pp. 40-51, at pp. 45
47.
12Though I will focus my remarks upon joke-hearers, some of what I say applies also
to joke-readers, and even to mere joke-thinkers who are creating jokes or internally re
playing those that are stored in memory.
13Roberts offers some helpful elaborations of this point ("Humor and the Virtues,"
pp. 139-40, 145), to be contrasted with the unrelievedly darker view of J. Harvey in
"Humor as Social Act: Ethical Issues," Journal of Value Inquiry 29 ( 1995): 19-30.
humor in the sex-reversed version of the joke, and from much the same
"Yeah, you wish!" thinking that seems to drive the response of at least
some men to both versions. None of this is to insist that no hearers of the
rape joke have a promiscuous woman (or man) in mind—only that we
are likely to be led astray if we are not open to the diversity of construals
that a joke can be given.17
The plausibility of amused responses to the sex-reversed joke hints,18
moreover, that hearers of this kind of joke, whether male or female, do
not construe "gang-raped," when it appears here (and probably in other
jokes, too), as having the same ordinary literal meaning that the term is
given by those who police humor for offensiveness or by those who are
engaging in serious discussions of, say, public affairs. In a context of
levity—which fairly describes the way that many joke-telling situations
are perceived by their participants—some hearers appear to take "gang
rape" to signify "gang bang" and to be synonymous, or nearly so, with
"sex [intercourse] with multiple partners." Hence none of the "standard"
(i.e., serious-discourse) implications of the term "gang rape" need be pre
sent, let alone any of the deeply disturbing imagery that accompanies our
"deep" understanding of the term. In effect, joke-tellers and joke-hearers
are utilizing a very different sense of "gang rape" from the one that de
Sousa is bringing to his reading of the joke. Now, this may itself be ob
jectionable—for instance, it might be thought to have the likely conse
quence, assuming that there is some bleeding-through of the joke-sense
into serious-discourse contexts, of eroding the gravity with which the
topic of rape, and specific allegations of it, are treated. And college-age
men do understand the serious senses of "rape" and "gang rape" (if not
with as much detail as might be wished), so they cannot be excused as
we would excuse an eight-year-old who lacks that understanding and
20See, e.g., Salvatore Attardo et al., "Debate: Humor and Political Correctness," Hu
mor 10 (1997): 453-513, pp. 485-86 (example offered by John Morreall).
21Berys Gaut, in "Just Joking: The Ethics and Aesthetics of Humor," Philosophy and
Literature 22 (1998): 51-68, pp. 56-58, usefully points out how jokes that appear to re
veal no attitudes toward real objects may be seen in fact to do so when subjected to more
subtle interpretation, but he pushes this position too far in writing that "those jokes ...
aimed at named, actual individuals ... no doubt... [reveal] attitudes towards actual indi
viduals" (p. 58).
22Even young, sexually inexperienced men might know enough about the nature of
women's sexual fantasies to enjoy the joke on this level. Of course, they are likely to
have obtained their awareness of such fantasies not by listening to women, but via visual
and verbal media depictions of women experiencing rape as pleasurable—depictions that
are not trustworthy as veridical representations of reality, certainly, but that are them
selves a likely source of many of the actual fantasies in women, and that therefore turn
out to be, indirectly, good evidence for such fantasies.
23De Sousa, The Rationality of Emotion, p. 291.
26Claudia Mills seems to hold that the "recognition that the [sexist] jokes are morally
suspect," which is, concededly, crucial for the amused reactions described in the text,
somehow entails the actual sharing of whatever sexist assumptions are exploited by the
jokes. Claudia Mills, "Racist and Sexist Jokes: How Bad Are They (Really)?" Report
from the Center for Philosophy and Public Policy 7 (1987): 9-12, pp. 10-11. But this
surely does not follow. In order to laugh, it is sufficient to know that others find the jokes
morally outrageous (or, analogously, that others deem certain words to be indecent)
without oneself agreeing with these evaluations. In addition, one may indeed view the
jokes as potentially morally dubious—when uttered in certain contexts, for example—but
without viewing them as inherently, invariably so. And, of course, if one does regard the
jokes as unacceptably offensive in themselves, yet finds these particular uses of them to
be funny, one obviously rejects the sexist assumptions underlying them.
27Don L.F. Nilsen has proposed that, distinct from jokes, "[t]here are joke parodies,
which have the form of jokes, but don't function as jokes, and work not as jokes, but as
parodies" (Attardo et al., "Debate: Humor and Political Correctness," p. 466). Might the
last two examples I have offered in the text fit that description—or at least a description
that would allow "joke parody" to be a subcategory of "joke"?
28De Sousa, The Rationality of Emotion, p. 291 (emphasis deleted).
funny in itself and finding it funny all things considered? It's tempting to
dismiss the distinction as a theoretician's misguided hypostasization of a
"joke-in-itself' that exists outside all context—something that is never
found in nature. Yet we do find ourselves drawing some such distinction
in everyday joking practice, as when we chokingly declare, about a joke
that has us in stitches, "That joke is so pathetic" or "I can't believe how
stupid that is!" So the distinction is apparently not spurious.
A helpful way to begin explicating it is with the linguists' and phi
losophers' distinction between semantics and pragmatics. This has been
characterized as, "roughly, the distinction between the significance con
ventionally ... attached to words ... and the further significance that can
be worked out ... using contextual information."29 That is, semantics
concerns itself with what is said by a sentence that is uttered, what mean
ing is conveyed by its strictly linguistic features (words arranged in
grammatical patterns), what "information" is "encoded" within the sen
tence.30 Pragmatics, by contrast, is concerned with what is expressed, all
things considered, the ultimate meaning that is conveyed by an utterance
of a given sentence in a particular context—how the standard, packaged
semantic meaning gets transformed (at times, overruled) in the process of
communication in a real, specific set of circumstances.
Now, joke-appreciation, it seems clear, requires perceptiveness re
garding the pragmatic, and not merely semantic, features of a joke that
has been told. For the typical joke, there is a great deal that is left unsaid,
left to be supplied by the hearer. Some of this is specific to the content of
the particular joke; some may involve conventions of the genre of which
the joke is a part, or conventions of local joking practice more generally;
some may concern the particular relationship between joke-teller and
joke-hearer, taking into account their present immediate circumstances as
well as the history of their interactions; and some may concern the nor
mal attitudes, practices, understandings, or ways of interacting found in
the (sub)culture of which the joke-teller and joke-hearer are members.
The telling of a joke is situated within multiple, concentrically radiating
family, friends, and others who are listening on the radio. Here's one:
"Remember, we'll buy you a dog as soon as your cats are dead." De
spite—or, probably, because of—the harshness of its content and its bru
tal lack of tact or euphemism, this message received much laughter from
the studio audience. Clearly, many utterances that in some contexts are
indefensibly taunting, hostile, cold, rude, or otherwise morally dubious
are merely amusing when stated within a suitably different context. Os
tensible insults and other verbal—or, for that matter, nonverbal—assaults
are a rich source of humor for issuers and recipients alike, whether they
are made orally or otherwise (in email, say), and whether the parties are
alone or observed by others (at a party, or good-natured faculty meeting,
for instance). It is worth noting, too, that many of these re-contextualized
statements are, of course, literally re-statements, recountings of improper
things that people, in some cases the joke-tellers themselves, have al
ready said, and that were most assuredly not funny at the time. Yet while
neither the tellers nor the audiences are under any illusions about their
impropriety, and perhaps hurtfulness, in the original contexts, they nev
ertheless find them funny and benign in the new, joke- or story-telling
contexts. It is this kind of context-sensitivity that is missed by those who
make broad claims about the injuriousness or insultingness of certain
kinds of jokes.34
This is not the occasion for a rigorous and comprehensive typology of
pragmatic factors that shape joking. But we might venture a conjecture
about the contrast between our all-encompassing notion of joke and that
of the joke-in-itself that is embedded within it. Understanding and evalu
ating the joke-in-itself draws upon only a subset of pragmatic factors
(and the competence to comprehend them), those that are more regular,
rule-governed, and context-invariant—among them, perhaps, conven
34E.g., Mills, "Racist and Sexist Jokes," pp. 11, 12. Mills makes a further claim that,
while a person might well be amused by a phthonic joke that targets her personally, she
cannot (unless she is lacking in self-respect) be amused by a joke that targets a sexual or
racial group to which she belongs, because there is no longer any rightly enjoyable per
sonalized attention shown by the joke (ibid.). But surely there can be affectionate group
directed humor that is perceived as such. And this can be enjoyed by an individual group
member (and without loss of dignity) if, very roughly, (1) she has no worries about po
tential baleful consequences of the joke-telling (e.g., spreading the stereotype via others
in the audience), and either (2a) she regards herself as in fact instantiating the relevant
group-stereotyped trait (and this is not a matter of personal consternation or angst for
her), or (2b) she regards herself as not instantiating it and either (2b 1) feels confident that
the other participants know this about her or (2b2) regards the trait as a flattering one
(and her lack of this trait is not a sore spot with her). The point is that being the butt of a
group-directed joke need not be inherently unpleasant, or cause one to want to distance
oneself from the stereotype. Only when certain background contextual circumstances are
in place does the humor disappear.
a cost. For the sake of what is really just a gain in convenience, pragmat
ics so understood blinds itself to some of the realities of communication,
realities whose understanding no other methodology or discipline is as
well equipped to explicate. Is it not important to study how listeners and
readers take utterances and make meaning that cannot, in any straight
forward way, be viewed as being implanted in them intentionally by ut
terers? Surely it ought not be presupposed that the set of supra
intentional meanings obtained by interpreters is merely a disordered tan
gle of idiosyncrasy, incompetence, and error.
In fact, there are certain familiar interpretive practices that argue for
the existence of systematic processes—not merely semantic, but prag
matic—that aim at producing meanings beyond what utterers have aimed
to convey but that nevertheless do so in a constrained way, according to
shared community norms and standards. One set of examples comprises
practices whose concern is the understanding of texts originating in other
cultures or other historical eras—constitutional and statutory interpreta
tion in law, for instance, or scriptural hermeneutics in religion. But an
other set includes practices that aim at grasping meanings that are con
veyed, though not intended, by utterers who do share a culture and era
with their interpreters. Here, too, law provides examples, for instance in
the construal of contracts and of testimony. But perhaps the best example
is right under our noses: joke-telling. It appears obvious from our earlier
discussion that joke-tellers quite often lack any determinate comprehen
sion of just what it is that makes particular jokes funny. The operations
of their jokes are opaque to them. In such cases, what they intend to con
vey is significantly less than what they do convey—including pragmati
cally. And we must be grateful for this gap; if joke-hearers could under
stand only joke-tellers' intended communications, there would be much
less laughter in the world. Crucial ingredients in making many jokes
funny would be lost.
Let's return, then, to our investigation of the diversity of joke
appreciating situations. In some joking situations, a crucial part of what
provokes our laughter is the lack of wit, sense, wisdom, or tact in the
manner of the teller or in the words of the joke (perhaps supplemented by
the subset of pragmatic factors relevant to the joke-in-itself). Once again,
the potential sources of our amusement here may be multiple. We might
be laughing at the (attitudes of the) real people who seriously avow these
sorts of things. We might be responding, if de Sousa is correct, in accor
dance with the Python principle. Or we might be amused by joke-tellers
flouting our expectations regarding the conventions of joke-telling or
story-telling: the patently nonsensical punch line (e.g., "No soap, ra
dio!"); the determinedly, and obviously, witless punch line (e.g., some
shaggy dog stories); the impassive facial and vocal manner that accom
41See also Roberts, "Humor and the Virtues," pp. 140-42; Morreall, Taking Laughter
Seriously, pp. 106-7; Linda Naranjo-Huebl, "From Peek-a-Boo to Sarcasm: Women's
Humor as a Means of Both Connection and Resistance," Studies in Prolife Feminism
1(1995) <http://www.fhsa.org/vln4/huebl.html (Feb. 20, 2004)>; but see Bergmann,
"How Many Feminists Does It Take to Make a Joke?" pp. 75-79.
42Notice that to say that the falsity of the joke's explicit and implicit allegations are
common knowledge among those present is to say more than that every person present
regards them as false. It is to say, further, at least that they all regard the others as regard
ing the allegations as false, and regard the others as all regarding everyone as regarding
the allegations as false. The reason for this additional stipulation is that if all parties pre
sent do regard the allegations against me as false, yet I suspect that some of them do not,
or I suspect that some of them suspect that there are those among us who do not, I might
still be troubled in a laughter-inhibiting way by the potential adverse attitudes or conse
quences.
43It is an interesting further question whether we can laugh when we take the joke
directed at us to involve presuppositions that are both true and legitimately denigrating,
or presuppositions that we suspect the joke-teller or other joke-hearers deem to be both
true and legitimately denigrating. There may be, that is, two distinct routes here to our not
being amused by a joke that targets us: (1) if the joke, by pointing out or implying some
thing shameful that we believe or suspect to be true about ourselves, causes us to feel bad
about ourselves, regardless of whether others credit the allegation or think badly of what
it alleges; (2) if we worry that the joke may cause others to (further) dislike or look down
at us, regardless of whether we think their attitudes justified. (See also n. 34 above, re
garding group-directed phthonic jokes, and Bergmann, "How Many Feminists Does It
Take to Make a Joke?" p. 79 n. 15, on how "humor can foster a sense of community of
belief and values," including disparaging ones. For interesting suggestions about how
jokes can insult or ridicule, and how phthonic humor can spread group-denigrating feel
ings as well as beliefs, see Philips, "Racist Acts and Racist Humor," pp. 12-16. On feel
ing pressured to join in put-down humor at one's own expense, see Harvey, "Humor as
Social Act," pp. 28-29; Morreall, Taking Laughter Seriously, p. 117.)
enjoyed.
So the contents of jokes do not determine our responses to them. We
sometimes find humor in jokes even where we do not endorse their
premises. And we sometimes do not enjoy jokes even where we do en
dorse their premises, for the "truth" of the joke need not assuage other
concerns we have about its telling. Alternatively, we may be unable to
laugh at the joke, whether phthonic or otherwise, because we cannot
keep ourselves from giving its words (or the teller's nonverbal contribu
tions) a "deep" construal that involves disturbing ideas or imagery. For
instance, when hearing a dead-baby joke, we might be unable, or unwill
ing, to suppress distinctly unamusing memories if we have recently
grieved over the loss of a child—even if not our own, and even if merely
a fictional character. Are we ever rightly liable to moral criticism for
such an inability to be amused? It is certainly tempting to find fault with
those, say, who refuse to allow themselves to enjoy any humor that refers
to a dead baby—or even any humor, period—on account of all the babies
dying around the world every day, or to enjoy any joke whose butt is fe
male on account of their unrelenting indignation at the ongoing oppres
sion of women. The principle on which such people deny themselves
humor would, if applied consistently, eliminate humor entirely.44 On the
other hand, there is something admirably serious-minded, even noble,
about such self-abnegation, at least if it contributes in some fashion,
however indirect, to ameliorating the conditions that concern it. And we
can certainly find virtue in incapacities for amusement that are less ex
treme: a tendency to find humor in genocides or natural disasters as they
unfold, or even in the grave disappointments of friends or loved ones,
may require an extraordinary explanation if it is not to bespeak a lack of
compassion or other character flaw. In any case, endorsement is obvi
ously not sufficient for finding a joke funny, in addition to not being nec
essary. The relation between endorsement and amusement is apparently
not a straightforward, uncomplicated one.
More important, our review of the varied impediments to enjoyment
of phthonic jokes does actually advance our case against the Endorse
ment Thesis. For any advocate of that principle must explain how it can
be true, even while a generalized version of it seems not to apply to non
phthonic jokes. Why, if as joke-hearers we can be expected generally to
make temporary suppositions that run contrary to our considered beliefs,
can we suddenly not do so where phthonic jokes are concerned? Why
cannot we suspend disbelief in this domain, too—temporarily forget
some of what we know on the topic in question, and temporarily adopt
premises that we do not reflectively endorse—in order to enjoy the
No. I will argue in this final section that even if certain humor is ac
cessible only to those who possess an undeniably sexist outlook during
the period in which they respond to the joke, these people need not be
actual sexists.
Now, this position is not unprecedented. Lawrence Blum, for one, has
issued similar claims to those that I am making, only transposed to racist,
rather than sexist, humor. He states that "[t]he making of a racist joke ...
does not make someone 'a racist'. It does not even necessarily signify a
racist attitude or belief."46 Blum's discussion indicates only one escape
route from such damning implications (one that would apply to joke
appreciators as well as joke-tellers): ignorance of the joke's racist nature.
Yet we have already surveyed numerous other grounds in support of the
second kind of claim that he makes. And now we will consider a non
ignorance argument for the first, one that turns instead upon the substan
tial cognitive and ethical gulf that separates endorsement of a sexist (or
racist) view on the occasion of hearing a joke from being a sexist more
generally.
In brief, my position is this: due to the divided nature of human cog
nitive systems, non-sexists—even confirmed anti-sexists—are capable of
employing sexist standpoints in limited situations, for limited periods,
without this lending any pervasive sexist cast to their overall, global be
lief systems or personalities. A man whose serious, considered, and be
haviorally actualized views are anything but sexist can nevertheless, for
instance, continue to access, and use (and endorse), his uninformed boy
hood misconceptions about women, sex, and rape for purposes of enjoy
ing sexist humor, while maintaining a strict compartmentalization of
these ideas that keeps them from infecting his thinking in other prag
matic contexts.
We have concerned ourselves heretofore exclusively with occurrent
mental states, those involved in moment-to-moment mental processes
and experiences. We have been asking, in effect, "What, right here and
now, is going on in the joke-hearer's mind that causes him or her to find
this joke funny?" But the larger question that we have set out to an
swer—Need one be sexist to laugh at a sexist joke?—obviously requires
a judgment about the global property of "being sexist," a trait that char
acterizes a person as a whole, and not merely at one moment. We need,
therefore, some account of how properly to make such global attribu
tions.
I propose to turn for guidance to the manner in which we ascribe be
liefs, where beliefs are understood as global characteristics of persons.
46Lawrence Blum, "I'm Not a Racist, But... The Moral Quandary of Race (Ithaca,
N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 2002), p. 17.
and all assets are available to be activated whenever relevant to our cur
rent topic of cognition. Rather than provide in such fashion a single per
spective upon the world, the endowment is functionally compartmental
ized in a complex pattern that actually supports many distinct, partial,
partly overlapping, situation-triggered, and sometimes mutually inconsis
tent, "perspects."4S The stream of cognizing involves a continual shifting
from one perspect to another, as differing subsets of our representational
resources get activated for the pragmatic task at hand. In short, our
standpoint keeps changing. How we think or behave in one kind of set
ting is no sure indicator of how we think or behave in a different one.
Indeed, we can even sometimes be found reasoning earnestly in perspect
PI with a premise that is contradictory to its counterpart that we ear
nestly employ in P2. The cognitive endowment is thus not aptly charac
terized as a "belief system," for it includes many items that, taking into
account how we think, feel, perceive, and behave across the diversity of
situations—especially those situations deemed in our culture most re
vealing of people's authentic doxastic commitments—cannot rightly be
regarded as our beliefs. Yet these non-beliefs are regular ingredients in
our reasonings and other occurrent mental processes. We use them, for
one thing, in a variety of "belief-resembling activities"—such as making
believe, playing devil's advocate, venting emotions verbally, and talking
off the top of our heads—each of which involves us in avowing, reason
ing with, or otherwise using, earnestly and unhesitatingly, sentences that
(outside of the activity, or during lapses from it) we deem to be false, or
at least do not deem to be true.
A straightforward inference to draw from this evidence is that there is
a single basic occurrent cognitive state that underlies all cognizing activi
ties, whether belief-using or belief-resembling: the mere utilization of a
sentence as an instrument in reasoning or other thinking, without any
inherent accompanying epistemic evaluation—what we can call "accept
ance."49 For example, despite our overall, considered, readily accessible
opinion that p is false, we find ourselves able to argue, as a devil's advo
cate, in favor of it. How is this possible? It would seem that actual utili
zation of p in reasoning and as a (perhaps unintended) influencer of our
feelings and perceptions requires that at the actual moment of cognizing
we forget or omit whatever qualms we may have about p's truth value.
That is, we need not, and so do not, affirmatively endorse as true all the
items that we actually deploy in cognizing; we simply go ahead and use
them, setting aside whatever skeptical thoughts we might have about
Lawrence Lengbeyer
Department ot Leadership, bthics
United States Naval Acade
lengbeye@usna.edu