"I'm Going to Hell!" : The Uncomfy Middle Ground Between Disability & Humor

Image Description: A stock photo of three white men smiling and toasting drinks together. The middle man sits in a wheelchair.

Have you ever noticed how, when somebody makes a joke about themselves, those present or watching online will laugh and relate? But, when somebody with a disability or other noticeable difference does the same thing, everyone tries to refrain from laughing? If you're chronically online like I am, chances are you've come across a video of someone with a disability or other difference doing something unexpected or making a joke at their own expense. Your first instinct is surprise, then you start to laugh, because their joke is funny, after all. After a hearty laugh attack, or an awkward snort, you self-consciously declare, "I'm going to Hell!"

I've done this too - plenty of times. Even though my eternal destination is assured, I'd be lying to say that I haven't half-humorously feared that God might take an eraser to His Book of Life because I laughed at somebody doing something silly with a disabled family member. But, I've only recently realized why this reaction is problematic.

Don't read this article with the mindset of, "Oh no! I've secretly been a terrible person this whole time?" or "Oh great, now another thing is getting canceled by the Comedy Police." These are simply my personal observations as to why we experience this internal conflict almost every single time a person with a disability cracks a joke. It is a noticeable and ongoing pattern, so it deserves an explanation.

Where This Tendency Got Started

First, let's try and trace the history that likely leads to this modern moral dilemma. 

For as long as there has been literature and storytelling, there have been archetypes; common character roles in stories. Whether it's the guiding father, the ambiguous witch, or the brave hero, archetypes serve as packages that can be unwrapped to uncover deeper themes and truths. Another such archetype is the Fool. The Fool can serve myriad functions: a foil that the other characters can pin reward or disaster upon regardless of merit, an unexpected voice of reason, a warning that the other characters do not heed, or as a source of comedic relief thanks to their stupidity. In some cases, the Fool can be all of the above and be an iconic, multi-faceted character. Examples that immediately come to mind are Mr. Smee from Peter Pan and the homeless man from Train to Busan.

Image Descriptions: A picture of Mr. Smee from the animated film Peter Pan as he happily prepares to help Captain Hook with a shave. A picture of the nameless Homeless Man from Train to Busan, played by Choi Gwi-hwa. A picture of Ed from The Lion King.

Mr. Smee is a silly yet likable cartoon that alternates between being Captain Hook's bumbling henchman and level-headed voice of reason. We are supposed to laugh at his conflicting characteristics of slapstick idiot and tender calmness, things we are surprised to see from villains, but not necessarily from Fools.

The homeless man from Train to Busan is one of the first people in the film to understand the seriousness of the budding zombie apocalypse, yet he is not believed due to his appearance and low status. He stands in heroic contrast to the selfish business man, who uses deceit and fearmongering to save his own skin.

As these examples show, Fools in literature and other media can be done well, and have been done well numerous times. The archetype takes a turn, however, when creators use it as an empty package laced with subtle or outright ableism. Think Ed from The Lion King. Why is the nonverbal lackey characterized as the most insane, savage, or foolish?

It's a heartbreaking and embarrassing fact that in American history, if a disabled person was not sequestered at home by family, or shut away in putrid institutions, they were paraded across the nation in travelling circuses and freakshows. Even if they had no tricks to showcase, people would still pay to ogle at their appearances, laugh at their behavior, and stand in macabre intrigue at their existence. Overlapping this perspective, a second viewpoint on the disabled life persisted: The tendency to look with pity instead of scorn. We can see this in the difference between two writers' portrayals of blind characters in Guy de Maupassant's 1882 short story The Blind Man and Kate Chopin's 1872 short story by the same name. In the former, the main message is that it's wrong to mistreat blind people because they're helpless, and in the latter, the message is that the sighted ought to pity and help the blind because of their helplessness. 

Thus, for generations and generations, the only reactions directed at those with disabilities by mainstream society were laughter and pity.

Pictured below, in the photos from left to right, are: Charles Stratton, George Washington Nutt, Lavinia Warren, and her sister Minnie; William Henry Johnson; Prince Randian with his wife Sarah.

Over the years, thanks to the 504 Bill and the Americans With Disabilities Act, people with disabilities and other related medical needs are increasingly allowed into normalcy: Normal family lives, normal work environments, normal social events, normal civil circles. Thankfully, we have come a long way and disability is increasingly becoming more normalized and celebrated. A handful of disabled writers, comedians, and actors are continuing to make room for disabled professionals in the arena of comedy and showbusiness.

Pictured in order of left-right, first row to second: AJ Wilkerson, Josh Sundquist, Daryl Mitchell, Brad Williams, Josh Blue, Benny Feldman, Drew Lynch, Micah Fowler, Tina Riml, and Levi Stanford.

The Disabled Are Deemed Too Lowly

Now let's get into the issue at hand.

There's a reason why dark humor isn't everybody's cup of tea. Some things are just too hard, tragic, or disappointing to acknowledge, much less to poke fun at. It can come across as disrespectful, like another way of kicking people while they're down, or a way of sugar-coating the seriousness a situation deserves.

Unfortunately, the general topic of disability often falls into the realm of dark humor, regardless of whether or not the disabled think that it should. This goes back to the antiquated perspective of pity, that having a disability or other difference is a foundationally unfortunate plight.

If you look at a disabled person, look with pity. If you talk to a disabled person, tell them you feel for them. If you take care of a disabled person, do so like they're made of glass.

This leads into the first reason why people question their morality when laughing with the disabled. Even implicitly, we are taught to pity the disabled and view them as among the lowest rungs of society. Obviously, they can and are still treated that way (just look up "Medicaid Marriage Penalty"), but in the realm of comedy, the whole subject of disability is still relegated to dark humor, only breached by the few actually disabled comedians and the jokesters who thrive on shock value. Jokes are funnier when you're not supposed to laugh, after all. There's an alluring naughtiness to joking about disability, because it's cruel. 

Or at least, that's what everybody seems to believe.

It's cruel to name the unnamable, to mention the unmentionable, to speak the unspeakable. It's cruel to poke fun at the unfortunate, to make light of the dark, and to spin the taboo into puns. Speak the Devil's name, and he will appear, and then you'll go to Hell.

We can spout equal-opportunity messages all we like, but when we get to comedy, it's like our old teachings come to the surface. When we share a laugh with somebody, we put ourselves on equal ground. When it's about their disability, however, we think that God Himself might smite us for sharing an equalizing experience with people He has supposedly put down. 

Imagine being held in such low esteem that it's considered taboo to even speak about you. Imagine being viewed as so unfortunate that a laugh is equivalent to an insult. Imagine your life as being deemed so dark, that finding a silver lining is thought of as a sin, even hypothetically.

People Don't Recognize the Difference Between WITH and AT

These antiquated reactions persist in the realm of comedy because, I believe, we have laughed AT the disabled for so long that it's as if we don't know how to laugh WITH them.

Unless you struggle with social cues, most folks can tell the difference between laughing with and at somebody, especially if it's directed at themselves. And yet, this distinction seems to disappear when people with disabilities joke about their diagnoses, limits, or appearances. Even when disabled content creators joke about themselves online, thereby inviting others to laugh right along with them, the comments are practically 100% guaranteed to include people boasting their swift descent into Hell.

After all, everyone knows that it's a sin to laugh at somebody for their disability. And laughing in their general direction is the exact same thing, right?

Wrong.

Here's a personal anecdote. Some years ago, when I was a teen volunteer at a summer camp for people with special needs, I helped this one camper with changing her briefs. It was always a two or three person job to ensure quickness and ease. In training, we were instructed to talk during the change so that there's no silence that can slip into awkwardness. This camper was used to getting changed, so it was just a normal, hum-dum chore for her, but it can get awkward if the people helping are awkward. Thankfully, the camper and one of the cabin leaders were joy incarnate, finding ways to genuinely laugh through any situation as if there was no such thing as awkwardness. For one particular change, we challenged ourselves to do it in record time, which ended with all of us giggling our heads off! Helping a teen or adult change a brief is one of those neutral facts of living with disability that the nondisabled population still isn't all-too ready to embrace. Yet I was laughing, the camper was laughing, the cabin leader was laughing, the third helper was laughing, and we all left the cabin agreeing, "Man, that was the funniest change I have ever done!"

If I had shared this story with anyone outside camp, they more than likely would have awkwardly swallowed a chuckle and told me that it's wrong to laugh at that camper's needs. But, none of us were laughing at the camper, but with her, effectively rendering an easily uncomfortable experience for the newbies a breeze, and making a necessary detour from the camper's desired schedule quick and enjoyable.

Where This Tendency is Going

Image Description: A screenshot of ajsreaction from Instagram. He glares to the side as if holding his tongue as a hostile Jesus glares over his shoulder.

A big handful of content creators and online comedians rack in views by trying to not laugh at these kinds of jokes.

ajsreaction on Instagram is one such example, often using a judgmental Jesus filter and choking on water to convey just how close he is to going to Hell. Even though his actions would convey the internal struggle of to-laugh-or-not-to-laugh, the fact still remains that he puts in the effort to create and post duplicates of these reaction style videos because he knows that they are popular and gain views. These content creators bank on the fact that the viewer is experiencing the same struggle, can relate to the guilt, and wants to diffuse the tension by laughing at the inherently taboo nature of the joke with somebody equally guilty. Creators like ajsreaction even sometimes make these "guilt-ridden" reaction videos their main staple - the primary schtick that people follow them for. 

Not even taking into account the arguments laid out above for the social politics surrounding laughter and disability, the wide and unpoliced dissemination of memes and humor across social media begs more questions:

1. Is it considered exploitation to gain a following or raise revenue from disability jokes, regardless of the projected attitude about the ethics of said jokes? That is, is the person who gets views for condemning bad jokes any better than the person who makes the bad jokes?

2. Is it ethical because it makes space for disabled content creators, or is it unethical because not all of the videos are shared with due credit or in a spirit of respect?

3. Should there be rules about who is allowed to make such jokes, and if so, should those rules be enforced? By who?

I don't presume to have the answers to these questions, and I'm sure I'll consider more in the future. This is not meant to be a Q&A or a lecture, but an ongoing conversation that does not end with me. It should not end at all. It has barely even begun.