Books, Arts & Manners: That’s Entertainment?

AROUND 1975, Johnny Carson realized that his top-of-the-show monologues were getting longer, but the number of jokes was getting smaller. The problem, he discovered, was that each joke needed an explanation. He could no longer begin a joke by saying, for instance, “Tip O’Neill is going on a diet. . . .” Instead, for the punchline to work, he needed to deliver first a mini-lesson in civics: “You all know Tip O’Neill, the Speaker of the House of Representatives. He’s a big guy. Well, apparently, Tip O’Neill is going on a diet. . . .”

Because brevity remains the soul of wit, and because an immutable law of comedy states that the longer it takes to get to the punchline, the funnier it has to be, Johnny Carson stopped doing political jokes and started doing something called “Stump the Band.” And that, in its crystalline form, is the fate of political humor on television.

About the Author

Rob Long

Rob Long is a writer and producer and a co-founder of Ricochet.

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AROUND 1975, Johnny Carson realized that his top-of-the-show monologues were getting longer, but the number of jokes was getting smaller. The problem, he discovered, was that each joke needed an explanation. He could no longer begin a joke by saying, for instance, “Tip O’Neill is going on a diet. . . .” Instead, for the punchline to work, he needed to deliver first a mini-lesson in civics: “You all know Tip O’Neill, the Speaker of the House of Representatives. He’s a big guy. Well, apparently, Tip O’Neill is going on a diet. . . .”

Because brevity remains the soul of wit, and because an immutable law of comedy states that the longer it takes to get to the punchline, the funnier it has to be, Johnny Carson stopped doing political jokes and started doing something called “Stump the Band.” And that, in its crystalline form, is the fate of political humor on television.