There were a lot of highlights from the past month (here’s a 15-minute recap if you want the full tour). Humor Heroes recognized, live events run, more puns punned than is probably medically advisable.

But the Humor Awards are always my favorite part, because they’re not about me or anyone on a stage. They’re about the people out there using this skill in their actual lives, every day, where it matters.

This year we had 24 finalists. Every single one of them earned their spot. But there was one nomination in particular that got me right in the feels. It came in from a reader named Nancy Sue, and I’ve been thinking about it ever since.

What Nancy Sue Wrote

For the first time in over six years, I signed up and attended an event via Zoom with Andrew Tarvin after I took the Humor Intelligence test. This is significant because I knew that I was at a point in my grief recovery where I actually felt like I might be able to know HOW I am funny or to notice things that I think are funny and why.

Since my dear husband died six years ago, NOTHING was funny any more. It seemed permanent... until Andrew reminded me of his Pretzel and Pineapple; then about his silly brother who proclaimed with great importance that he farted in class, or Andrew’s statement about “It’s NUN of your business,” and in his little ending statement, “Wit regards.”

I love birds and talk to them regularly, so I am not constantly talking to myself. I Especially love Quails. My favorite is Papa Quailie, with his ever bouncing top knot and superior strut. So the change is gradual, but steady and I am so appreciative.

The Metric That Matters

As a creator, it’s easy to get caught up in the numbers. Views, likes, comments, opens, conversions. The metrics that everyone agrees count as “impact.” I track all of them. They’re useful.

But Nancy Sue isn’t a number. She’s a person who lost her husband, found six years of silence afterward, and is now noticing Papa Quailie’s bouncing top knot and finding it funny again. No dashboard captures that. No quarterly report has a column for it.

I got into this work because of a small nudge. My best friend in college wanted to start an improv group, needed people, and “forced” me to join. I almost said no. I said yes for reasons I don’t fully remember, and that one yes is the reason I have a career, a TEDx talk, a wife I call Pretzel, and a daughter I call Pineapple. The nudge took about ten seconds. The ripple is still going.

I started Humor That Works so I could be that nudge for other people. Most of the time I have no idea if it’s working. The numbers tell me something, but they don’t tell me the thing.

The thing is Papa Quailie.

You never know what small thing turns out to be the big thing. For someone else. Or for you.

Subscribe now

Your Turn

I’d love to know about a nudge in your life. Not a big one. The small kind.

The friend who suggested a class, the colleague who forwarded an article, the stranger who said the right thing at the right time. The kind of moment that probably didn’t seem like much when it happened.

Hit reply and tell me about it. I read every one, and if you’re game, I might share a few next week. Names off, unless you tell me otherwise.

Wit regards,

Andrew

P.S. Nancy Sue’s story started with the Humor Intelligence Assessment, which helped her notice what she actually finds funny. If you’ve been curious about it, it’s right here.

P.P.S. I’ve decided I’m going to start talking to birds too. That way I’m not talking to myself, I’m a Disney princess.

The question is, “I regularly take time to work on funny ideas.”

Compare that to another question, which asks whether you notice something funny in everyday moments. Professionals average 3.93 out of 5 on that one, one of the highest scores anywhere on the assessment.

What that means is that professionals are good at spotting humor in the wild. There’s no shortage of inspiration. The problem is that it just sits there, untouched, until the idea disappears or the moment has passed.

People are building up raw material for funny that they never refine. Then they conclude from the silence that they must not be funny.

Humor is a practice, not a personality

The myth about humor is that funny people are born that way. A quick wit, natural timing, something innate. The data shows the opposite.

Many funny people have a process. They catch a moment, write it down, come back to it later, try a version, cut a word, try again, test it on someone, revise, file it away, pull it back out three months later when it finally fits.

Humor that feels spontaneous is often the output of that loop. The comedian referencing an observation they tinkered with the day before. The keynote speaker who has tested the same line in five different rooms. The friend who has been mentally editing a story since the moment it happened.

Where most professionals are lacking is exactly where the data points. They notice humor in everyday life. They almost never work on it.

Subscribe now

What the practice actually looks like

This is why I’ve found that the fastest way for someone to improve their humor is to keep a humor notebook.

Keep a running list of observations, half-jokes, odd sentences, and weird framings that might be something in a place you can go back to. Most of what you write down may never be anything more than that. But some may end up in your presentations, conversations, or the opening of a Substack email (ahem).

Noticing is where it starts. Working on what you noticed is where the funny actually gets built.

Give it a shot

So use this email as an excuse to try it. Hit reply or leave a comment with a recent observation, moment, or half-formed thought that struck you as funny. Don’t overwork it. Don’t polish it into a joke. Just get it out of your head and onto a screen where it exists.

That’s the entire practice. Notice, capture, return to it later. The returning is where the funny gets built, but it only works if the noticing makes it out of your head first.

I’ll read every reply and help you workshop it if you’d like.

Wit regards,
-Andrew

P.S. If you haven’t taken the Humor Intelligence Assessment yet, you can here. Five minutes, eight competencies, and a profile of where your own humor skills actually sit.

A little while back, I keynoted to 2,000 people. I didn't hear a single laugh.

Not because it wasn't funny (I hope), but because it was a livestream. Cameras off. Chat disabled. No emoji reactions. For 45 minutes it was me, a webcam, and the immediate realization that I couldn't tell if a single thing was landing.

So I took the advice I give to my clients whenever they have a virtual meeting: assume you are crushing it. Because to assume anything else doesn't help when you've got nothing to go on.

A comedian's feedback loop is the laugh. Or the smile. Or the glance sideways at a coworker to see if they caught it too. Take that away and you're left with the professional version of shouting into a well and waiting to see if the well giggles back.
(It did, eventually. The client sent great feedback the next day. Nice messages trickled in from attendees throughout the week. It went well.)

But the feedback arrived after. In the moment, I had no idea. And I know I'm not the only one who knows that feeling.

Many people who use humor well at work use it in exactly the same conditions.

Quarterly reviews. All-hands meetings. Slack threads. Client presentations where everyone has their camera off and their coffee cup up. You make the joke. You drop the one-liner. You reframe the tense moment with something lighter. And then... silence.

Which is why the Humor Awards exist.

This is the sixth annual Humor Awards from Humor That Works, and the whole point is to recognize people who make work more human through humor.

Specifically the people whose work almost never gets recognized for it. Including by themselves.

That’s the part I want you to hear. If you read this newsletter, there’s a decent chance you’re the kind of person who uses humor well at work without thinking of yourself as someone who uses humor well at work.

You make the meeting 7.2% less tense. You send the Slack message that breaks up the Monday fog. You land the callback joke three days later that reminds the team they’re still a team.

These are the people the awards are for.

There are eight categories, each tied to one of the eight competencies of Humor Intelligence.

• Humor Appreciation Award (you notice and reward other people’s humor)

• Humor Consideration Award (you read the room and know what fits)

• Humor Curation Award (you find and share the good stuff)

• Humor Creation Award (you make the jokes, puns, and callbacks)

• Humor Performance Award (you talk in a way that gets people to listen)

• Humor Facilitation Award (you get the room laughing together)

• Humor Application Award (you put humor to work on real problems)

• Humor Empowerment Award (you make it safer for others to be funny)

Pick whichever one feels most like you, or just tell us the humor thing you did and we can decide.

Now, the awkward part. You’re going to have to nominate yourself. I know, I know. You might say you feel awkward for patting yourself on the back, or may not want to toot your own horn. But if you don’t do it, there’s no guaranteeing anyone else will. So get to tootin’.

And if it makes it easier, feel free to make up someone else as your nominator and submit the form in the third person. I’ll never know!

Nominations close Monday.

Nominations close on April 20th at 11:59pm ET (with winners announced on Wednesday April 29th). The process only takes about 2 minutes.

Nominate Today

And if you genuinely can’t bring yourself to do it, forward this email to the coworker who’s seen you in action and let them handle it. Subject line suggestion: “Apparently I’m supposed to toot.”

Wit regards,
-Andrew

P.S. Yes, “get to tootin’” is now something I’ve said to 12,000 people. No regrets.

I’ve been playing tennis since Pretzel (my wife) and I first started dating in New York City. I wasn’t particularly good but we had fun playing together.

When we moved to Panama, we decided to take it more seriously. Individual lessons at first, then a joint setup once Pineapple (my daughter) arrived: I’d do thirty minutes, Pretzel would do thirty, and whoever wasn’t on the court would wrangle the toddler. I’m still not “good” per se (there’s a 50/50 chance my serve ends up in play or outside the court). But I’ve slowly gotten better.

Recently I picked lessons back up after a bit of a break. Early in the session, things were going okay. Not great (at one point the coach felt it necessary to remind me the goal was to get it over the net), but okay. Warming up.

Then the instruction started.

Eyes on the ball. Fine. My contact got a little better.
Now swing through and rotate the wrist. Okay. Marginal improvement.

Off hand out in front. Rotate it as you swing. Bend the knees. Watch the seams on the ball. Pivot the foot on follow-through.

Each new instruction landed right after the last. And with every addition, I got worse. Not plateau-worse. Actively, visibly, confusingly worse than when I had no instruction at all.

I could feel the frustration building. Not at myself, but at him.

He was giving me too much to think about. After yet another ball directly into the net, I told him I needed a water break and was fully intending to pretend like I got a message that I needed to go home just so I could put an end to the stupid class.

But after a sip of water and a few deep breaths, I decided to try again, but with a caveat. In my best broken Spanish, I told him: “Una cosa. Quiero pensar solamente una cosa.”

One thing. I only want to think about one thing.

He paused. “La mano. Y los ojos.” The hand out front, and watch the ball.

That’s two things, but way better than the 87.5 I had in my head before. So that’s what I focused on.

And I got better. Still sending some balls into neighboring zip codes, but consistently, noticeably better. Once that felt natural, I added a third thing and improved. Eventually he tried to give me a fourth. I said, “no gracias.” That’s for next time.

Subscribe now

The Problem With Too Much (Good) Advice

The thing about my tennis coach is that he wasn’t wrong. All of those things he told me to do? Correct. Bend your knees. Watch the seams. Rotate the wrist. If you asked any tennis instructor anywhere, they’d give you the same list.

The problem wasn’t the advice. It was the timing and the volume. There’s a version of “helpful” that becomes decidedly unhelpful.

Many of us run into the same problem any time we’re trying to learn something new, like humor. “Be more intentional.” “Don’t try too hard.” “Read the room.” “Leave a pause for laughter.” “Don’t dwell on it.” All technically accurate.

None of it particularly useful when delivered all at once to someone who just wants to feel a little less wooden in a meeting.

What I’ve found through the research is that humor isn’t one skill. It’s eight distinct competencies. And the reason most advice falls flat is that it treats everyone the same, hands them the full list, and says good luck.

That’s the equivalent of my coach rattling off seven corrections while I’m mid-swing.

What actually works is finding your “una cosa.” The one or two competencies where you already have natural strength, so you can build from there instead of trying to fix everything at once.

And that’s what I want to help you figure out.

Find Your Una Cosa

Next Wednesday, April 15th, I’m hosting a live workshop as part of International Humor Month. It’s called “What Kind of Funny Are You?” and the whole point is exactly what we’ve been talking about.

We’ll walk through all eight Humor Intelligence competencies together, and you’ll leave knowing which ones are already your natural strengths. Not a full list of things to fix. Your una cosa (or two).

If that sounds useful, I’d love to see you there. You can grab a spot here:

What Kind of Funny Are You? >

Wit regards,
-Andrew

P.S. If you have questions before Wednesday, just hit reply. I’ll try not to create too much of a racket, but if I do, it’s not my fault.

For those who don’t know, I’m the Director of International Humor Month (through the Association for Applied and Therapeutic Humor aka AATH). It’s now in its second year under AATH’s leadership, and the idea for the month is simple:

30 days dedicated to celebrating, spotlighting, and building the skill of humor.

In practice, “simple” means coordinating Humor Hero Spotlights, curated events from humor practitioners around the world, skill-building workshops, podcast interviews, and a humor awards show. All in one month.

Fun, but stressful.

But I genuinely love it. Because Humor Month gives people something that’s surprisingly hard to come by... an excuse.

The power of a good excuse

Think about it: New Year’s gives you an “excuse” to set goals. There’s nothing magical about January 1st. You could start a new habit any day of the year, or even any time of day (you could choose to start a new diet literally right now).

And yet we use the thought of a “new year” as the prompt and permission to invest in ourselves.

It’s the same thing with Valentine’s Day. Can you dote on a loved one any day of the year? Yes. Has the day been overly commercialized to the point that “Meathearts” are a thing (that’s the Sweethearts candy with messages like “Luv U” but instead it’s on meat)? Also yes.

Is it still a good excuse to show you care? Also also yes. It’s not necessary but it gives you permission to be sentimental.

April is the same thing but for humor. It’s the excuse you need to give yourself permission to actually invest time in building your skill of humor. Not just enjoy humor passively, but work on it intentionally.

And I’m taking my own advice. This month I’m teaching longform improv to a group of improvisers here in Panama, setting up a comedy writing workshop, writing new stand-up material in Spanish, and performing a show in virtual reality. (Yes, really.)

Subscribe now

So here’s your excuse

If you’ve ever thought “I’d love to improve my humor” and then immediately not done that... April is your month.

There are things happening all month long as part of International Humor Month. Special open house events, interviews with humor experts on the AATH LaughBox podcast, Humor Hero spotlights, and workshops from humor practitioners around the globe. You can check out the full calendar at humormonth.com.

But if you want a place to start, I’m hosting a free virtual workshop on April 15th at 12pm ET called “What Kind of Funny Are You?”

It’s a one-hour live session on Zoom where we’ll dig into the different ways people are “naturally” funny and you’ll discover your natural style. The goal is to help you unlock your specific sense of humor so you can actually use it, at work, at home, wherever.

Register for Event

Whether you use April as an excuse to attend an event, try writing a joke, or just send a pun to a coworker who didn’t ask for one... I hope you use it.

Because the best time to start working on your sense of humor was years ago. The second best time is right now. And the third best time is all of April, because there’s a whole month dedicated to it.

Wit regards,
-Andrew

P.S. Speaking of excuses to celebrate humor... nominations are now open for the 6th Annual Humor Awards. Know someone whose meetings actually keep people awake or a team that believes in the power of puns? Nominate them today.

Take it now →

If you’ve ever taken DISC, the Enneagram, or Myers-Briggs, you know the drill: answer questions, get a type, read your description, nod along, maybe share it with your team, then put it in a drawer.

The core message of every personality test is the same: “Here’s what you are.”
The Humor Intelligence Assessment does something different. It tells you what you can DO.

Traits vs Skills

Personality tests measure traits. Traits are relatively fixed. If you’re an introvert, you’re an introvert. If you’re a D-style on DISC, Dominance is your wiring. Useful to know, but hard to change.

Humor Intelligence measures competencies. Competencies are learnable. If your Creation score is low today, it doesn’t have to be low six months from now. If your Facilitation score is high, you can learn to leverage that strategically instead of just doing it instinctively.

One person who took the assessment said it was

“better than personality tests because it’s a tool for connecting with others, not just categorizing who you are.”

Another said:

“I’m not a good creator, but I have OTHER skills that are equally as valuable, if not more.”

She only realized that because the assessment broke humor into 8 separate competencies instead of giving her a single label.

Which means it’s not a question of whether you’re “funny” or “not funny.” You have a specific profile across 8 skills, and every one of them can be developed.

If you haven’t taken the assessment yet, it’s 5 minutes and you’ll get your full profile immediately:

Take the Humor Intelligence Assessment

If you’ve already taken it, I’d love to hear what surprised you. Hit reply and tell me.

Wit regards,
Andrew

PS. For the record, I’ve taken every personality test listed above. Apparently I’m a Type A blue square, conscientious INTJ with the sign of Aquarius. I have no idea what to DO with any of that, other than take long walks on the beach... by myself.

I was still working at Procter & Gamble at the time. A women’s leadership group had asked me to do a 60-minute session on humor in the workplace, and I did what I thought was the logical thing to do. I spent most of that talking about comedy.

Techniques, structures, ways to craft something clever. I had one slide on the benefits of using humor and mentioned (almost as an afterthought) the value of simply laughing more as a way to relieve stress.

At the end of the session, I asked the group what they were going to take away. One woman raised her hand and said, “I’m just going to try to laugh more.”

And everyone agreed.

She wasn’t interested in writing better jokes. She didn’t need to become the funniest person in her department. She realized she could just start seeking humor out.

I didn’t have language for it then. But what she was describing is something I now call Humor Appreciation, and it turns out it’s one of the most overlooked (and undervalued) humor skills there is.

Subscribe now

You’ve been measuring yourself against the wrong skill

Most people think “using humor” means “being funny.” And not just “funny” but stand-up comedy level funny. It doesn’t.

It turns out that there are 8 different competencies hiding inside that phrase.

Humor Creation and Performance (2 of the 8) are what most people picture. It’s coming up with something clever on the spot and delivering it in a way that has people ROFLing so hard they give you an instant promotion.

Humor Appreciation is the other side. It’s recognizing what’s funny around you, responding to it, seeking it out, and letting yourself actually enjoy it.

Most professionals are stronger in Appreciation than Creation. And they’ve spent years beating themselves up thinking they’re “not funny” when they’re actually quite skilled in a humor competency they didn’t know existed.

When I started testing the Humor Intelligence Assessment earlier this year, the data confirmed this. 56% of people who took it had Creation as their lowest competency. More than half.

One person put it perfectly after getting their results. “I’m not a good creator, but I have other skills that are equally as valuable, if not more.”

The distinction isn’t small. It’s the difference between thinking humor isn’t for you and realizing you’ve had it all along.

The woman at that P&G session didn’t need to become a comedian. She just needed to start seeing funny instead of pressuring herself to be funny.

Discover Your Skill of Humor

If you’re curious where you actually stand, the Humor Intelligence Assessment breaks humor down into 8 competencies (Appreciation and Creation are just two of them) and shows you your profile across all of them. It takes about 5 minutes.

Take the Humor Intelligence Assessment →

If you already took it this week, I’d love to hear what surprised you. Hit reply and tell me.

Wit regards,

-Andrew

P.S. If you caught Wednesday’s email, now you know the insight behind why I built the assessment in the first place. If you missed it, the short version is this. 5 minutes, 8 competencies, a profile of yourself you haven’t seen before.

P.P.S. 56% of people scored lowest in Creation. If that ends up being you too, congratulations. You have 7 other competencies that say you’re funnier than you thought.

But I’ve always had a problem. When someone asks “okay, so how funny am I?” I never had a great answer. Humor isn’t one thing.

Saying someone is “funny” or “not funny” is like saying someone is “athletic” or “not athletic” without specifying whether you mean swimming, basketball, or chasing after your four-year-old who just learned to ride a bike.

So I partnered with the Social Research Lab at the University of Northern Colorado to fix that.

The result is the Humor Intelligence Assessment: a research-backed tool that measures your skill across 8 specific humor competencies.

Not a personality quiz. Not “which Office character are you?” A real professional development tool validated by 10,000+ responses.

It takes about 5 minutes. You’ll get your scores across all 8 competencies immediately.

Take the Humor Intelligence Assessment →

Here’s what makes this different from anything I’ve offered before:

It measures competencies, not personality. Personality tests tell you what you ARE. This tells you what you CAN DO, and what you can learn to do better. Every competency is trainable.

It’s specific. You won’t get “you’re funny” or “you’re not funny.” You’ll get a profile across 8 distinct skills: Appreciation, Consideration, Curation, Creation, Performance, Facilitation, Application, and Empowerment. Most people are strong in some and weaker in others.

It changes how you see yourself. When we tested this with a group of professionals, 93% rated accuracy 8 out of 10 or higher. The most common reaction was some version of “I didn’t realize there was a difference between appreciating humor and creating it, but it explains everything about me.”

The question isn’t “are you funny?” It’s “what kind of funny are you?”

Take the Assessment (5 minutes) →

Your results are just the beginning. But it’s a pretty fascinating beginning.

Wit regards,
-Andrew

PS. Today’s the first day anyone can get their full Humor Intelligence Report, and I wanted to make it a little special. Everyone who grabs their report today gets my guide to 12 Comedic Devices—the perfect companion for putting your humor strengths to work. And the first 5 people to get their report get a 1-on-1 humor coaching call with me to dig into your results together.

PPS. If you already took the assessment a couple of weeks ago, your full report is now available: Get Your Report. And if you took our Persona Quiz years ago, this is the upgraded version: more questions, more accurate, and more science, so retake the assessment.

PPPS. How many “PS’s” is too many PS’s?

PPPPS. I think it’s 4.

And then ten minutes later, someone else says the exact same thing and suddenly everyone’s taking notes.

It’s not your imagination. That sort of thing happens all the time, and in all different scenarios.

I was recently on a customization call with a mutual insurance company I’m doing a series of workshops for later this month (yes, humor works even in financial services). One of the things I always ask organizers is whether there’s specific messaging they want me to reinforce during the session.

And the answer is almost always the same. It’s not “teach them to tell jokes” or “make them laugh.” It’s some version of “we’ve been telling our people [x] for months and they just aren’t hearing it.”

Subscribe now

The Parent (Advice) Trap

I tell the clients that it’s a lot like parenting. Sometimes parents will tell their kid to do something 47 times and they’ll be completely ignored. But then some random YouTuber says it once and suddenly it’s the most important piece of wisdom ever spoken.

It’s the same message but a completely different impact.

Whether you’re a parent or the expert trying to speak up in a meeting, it’s easy to blame the problem on the other person.

Oh, they’re just lazy.
They don’t know what’s good for them.
They don’t respect me because I’m not senior enough, not loud enough, not charismatic enough.

But that’s almost never what’s happening.

Your ideas aren’t landing the way they should because the delivery doesn’t create the moment that makes people pay attention.

That’s why someone can say the same thing in a slightly different way and it’s suddenly brilliant. The idea was good, the thinking was sharp, the delivery sucked.

That’s why I, as an outside speaker, can get a reaction the internal team can’t.

Not because I know more about the org or the people (I almost certainly don’t). But because I wrap the message in a way that gets people to actually hear it. A story. A surprising reframe. A well-timed moment of humor.

It’s not a personality thing

I’m not talking about being the funniest person in the room. I’m talking about understanding that how you say something matters as much as what you say. And that’s not a personality thing. It’s a skill.

I’ve seen engineers, accountants, and data scientists learn to do this. People who would absolutely never describe themselves as “naturally funny.” They didn’t change who they were. They just learned how to make their expertise land.

So the next time you say something and it doesn’t land, don’t assume the idea was bad or the other person hates you. Ask yourself if the delivery gave it a chance.

And if you’ve ever been on the other side of that moment (saying something brilliant that got completely ignored), I want to hear about it. Hit reply or leave a comment and tell me about a time your idea got no reaction... until someone else said it.

Leave a comment

Wit regards,
-Andrew

P.S. The Humor Intelligence Report we’ve been working on can help you figure out exactly where your delivery might be falling short (and what to do about it). More on that next week.

We’re all fine now. I’m back at about 90%, which is plenty enough to write to you with a bit of silver lining:

That extra timing ended up being a gift.

Because while I was parked on the couch watching the 387th consecutive episode of Bluey with Pineapple, I had something I rarely get: a bit of time to sit with everything we learned from the Humor Intelligence First Look session on February 13th.

And we learned a lot.

What 27 People Taught Me About Humor Intelligence

Twenty-seven people showed up to the beta session (thank you to those who did).

Afterward, I sent a follow-up survey. The average recommendation score came back at 9.86 out of 10. Every single respondent said they’d recommend it to a colleague.

That’s a perfect Net Promoter Score. I don’t say that to brag (there’s obviously some bias from people in this community), I say it because it told me the assessment isn’t just interesting. It’s useful. And that’s my primary goal.

But the number that really stopped me was that 25 out of 27 participants (93%) rated the assessment’s accuracy at 8 out of 10 or higher.

And the 2 people who rated it lower said it was because they weren’t sure what context to answer the questions in (work, with friends, etc). That’s something we can fix with better instructions at the beginning of the assessment.

Overall, it’s great confirmation that we’re not measuring whether you can deliver a punchline. We’re measuring eight distinct competencies, things like how you read a room, how you use humor to connect with people, and whether you’re better at appreciating humor or creating it.

That last one turned out to be the big discovery.

Subscribe now

The Aha Moment Nobody Expected

Over and over, people said some version of: “I didn’t expect THAT to be my strongest area.”

But the most common breakthrough was something specific. One beta tester put it perfectly: “It made me realize there was a difference between the appreciation and creation of humor. I never considered that before, but it explains a lot about me.”

She’s not alone. Most of us walk around with a vague sense of whether we’re “funny” or “not funny.” That binary is completely useless (unlike binary code which is very useful for us engineers).

You might be brilliant at appreciating humor (recognizing what’s funny and seeking it out) but freeze when you try to create something funny on the spot.

Those are different skills. Both learnable, both useful, but different. And once you see that distinction, you stop trying to be something you’re not and start building on what you already have.

Several people actually compared the assessment to tools like StrengthsFinder and DISC, but said this felt more actionable, which is amazing. One tester called it “better than personality tests... it’s a tool for connecting with others.”

That’s exactly what we’re going for.

What Comedians Already Know

This process of trial-and-feedback is exactly what comedians do every night on stage.

You write a joke. You test it at an open mic on a Tuesday night in front of twelve people. You watch what happens. You adjust the wording, the timing, the setup. You test it again. You cut what doesn’t work. You keep what does. A joke that kills after six months of refinement barely resembles the version that got polite silence in month one.

And that’s what we’re doing with the Humor Intelligence Assessment.

Beta testers told us some of the questions needed clearer wording. So we’re rewriting those questions. They told us the 40-page report had some repetitive sections. So we’re tightening it. They said the spider chart that visualizes your eight competencies was one of the most valuable parts (one person said it “put structure around a jumble of assumptions and untangled them”). So we’re highlighting it.

That’s what a rigorous, research-backed development process looks like. Create, share, get feedback, improve. And it happens to be the same skill set we want everyone to develop with their own humor.

Not “be funnier.” But notice what lands. Adjust what doesn’t. Try again.

What’s Coming Next

The full Humor Intelligence Report is coming in a couple of weeks.

It’s sharper, clearer, and more useful than what we would have shipped a week ago. The beta made it better. The feedback made it stronger. The forced time on the couch, apparently, also made it wiser.

In the meantime, if you haven't taken the free assessment yet, you can do that right now at insights.humorthatworks.com/assessment.

Take the Assessment

It takes about five minutes and you’ll get some instant insight today and be the first to know when the complete report launches in two weeks.

Now, does anyone know how to get the Bluey theme song out of your head?

Wit regards, Andrew

P.S. I’ll be the Director of International Humor Month for AATH once again. Be on the lookout for more details soon about all the ways you can level up your humor game in April.

Thirty people signed up to test the new Humor Intelligence Assessment. They’ll be the first to take it, get their personalized reports, and tell me everything that’s broken (because something is always broken).

(If you’re reading this and want to jump in at the last minute, there’s technically still time until it kicks off at 12pm ET. You can register here.)

But I’m a tad more nervous than usual because… Pretzel (my wife) is joining as an attendee.

Not just as a supportive spouse watching from the sidelines but as a full participant. Taking the assessment. Getting her results. Reacting to it all in with a mix of loving acceptance and German skepticism.

She’ll also see if some of the later nights I’ve been pulling have been worth it.

What’s actually happening at noon

So what is this Humor Intelligence Assessment that they’ll be testing? This thing I’ve been hinting at, researching, and occasionally losing sleep over?

The assessment measures your Humor Intelligence, how well you score across the 8 humor competencies we define as your skill of humor.

Each person gets a personalized report showing their strengths, growth areas, and specific recommendations. The whole thing is research-backed and is the next iteration of our work that’s been taken by over 10,000 people.

If you’ve been following me for a while, you know humor isn’t something you have or don’t have. It’s a skill you can develop.

But knowing it and having a framework to actually improve? Those are different things.

Subscribe now

Why nerves are probably a good thing

I’ve spent months building this. Reading research papers. Testing questions. Redesigning the report format. Obsessing over whether the competency descriptions actually make sense.

And now thirty people (plus Pretzel) are about to tell me what works and what doesn’t.

Part of me wants everything to be perfect. The other part knows the whole point of a beta launch is because it almost certainly won’t be (perfect). And that’s okay.

But having your wife in the session adds a special layer of accountability. She’s heard me talk about this project at dinner. She’s seen the spreadsheets. She knows how much this matters to me.

She’s also wicked smart. And what happens if the assessment tells her she’s low on Humor Appreciation? Or what if it proves she’s funnier than me?

We’re about to find out…

What happens next

Next Friday, February 20th, I’m launching the full Humor Intelligence Assessment to everyone on this list.

The beta group gets exclusive early access and early adopter pricing. Everyone else gets access next Friday at $27.

I’m not asking you to buy anything today. I’m just bringing you behind the scenes because that’s what this newsletter has always been about... figuring out humor together, including the messy parts.

Today is the messy part. Thirty people testing something that might not work perfectly. Me trying to facilitate a session while my wife watches. All of it recorded so I can cringe at my mistakes later.

But that’s how you build something worth building, right? You test it with real people, you listen to feedback, you make it better.

And then next week, you launch it to the world and hope your wife gives you a good review.

Wish me luck.

Wit regards,

Andrew

P.S. If you want to sneak into today’s beta session, registration is open until 12pm ET. Fair warning: you’ll see the unpolished version, which means you might catch bugs, awkward transitions, and me nervously checking if Pretzel is taking notes.

P.P.S. For everyone else, mark your calendar for next Friday. That’s when the official launch happens and you’ll get your chance to discover your humor intelligence profile. I promise by then we’ll have worked out most of the kinks. Most of them.

“Practicing new material at a funeral open mic, not a good idea...”

I’ve been going back to that response for three days. I have so many questions.

Was it an actual open mic at a funeral? Were they doing crowd work with mourners? Did they open with “So, tough room, huh?”

I respect the commitment to the craft, honestly.

You taught me something important

A couple of weeks ago, I shared how I want to listen more. Since then, hundreds of you took the Annual Humor Survey and I spent last weekend reading through every single response…

There were a few things that stood out:

1. While there were definitely common themes (35% of you most want help finding humor under stress), everyone’s goal for using humor is a bit different.

2. Some of you use humor multiple times a day and nothing stops you. Others never use it at work because the risk feels too high.

3. People’s use of (and success with) humor varies drastically. One person only tells jokes to their dog, Coby. Another got reported for “bullying” after making a sarcastic comment. Someone hit reply-all on a company email and told a bathroom joke... and let’s just say some people were not pleased.

The point is: we all need different things when it comes to humor.

Some of you need help recovering from awkward moments. Others want to strike a balance between professionalism and humor. A few are building humor-based businesses and need to know how to combine humor with serious subjects like healing and transformation.

Subscribe now

Why I built something for all of you

This is exactly why I created the Humor Intelligence Assessment.

Unlike personality tests that box you into categories (you’re a “jokester!” or whatever), this research-backed tool measures your competency across 8 distinct humor skills.

Developed in partnership with the Social Research Lab at the University of Northern Colorado, the assessment has been taken by over 10,000 respondents, including at organizations like NASA, Microsoft, and the UN.

It evaluates the learnable competencies of Appreciation, Consideration, Curation, Creation, Performance, Facilitation, Application, and Empowerment. All confirming what I hope you now know to be true:

Humor isn’t just something you’re born with, it’s a set of skills you can develop.

You might be brilliant at facilitating humor in others but struggle with performance. You might excel at appreciating humor but need help with strategic application. The assessment shows you exactly where your strengths are and where you can grow.

Here’s where you come in

I’m doing a special virtual session next Friday, February 13th at 12pm ET, where you’ll get first access to the Humor Intelligence Assessment before it officially launches.

Here’s what we’ll do together:

• You’ll take the assessment during the session

• You’ll get your 40+ page personalized PDF report with detailed insights (normally $47, free for attendees)

• I’ll walk through the framework and help you understand your results

• You’ll be able to ask questions, voice concerns, share puns

• I’ll ask for me feedback on the tool itself (which I genuinely want)

This is the only time I’m offering this for free before the official launch.

Register for the Workshop

Whether you’re the person practicing material at funerals or the person who only shares jokes with Coby, I want to help you understand your unique humor profile so you can be funnier, happier, and more effective at work (and in life).

So join me, I can’t wait for you to unlock your unique skill of humor.
-Andrew

P.S. If you have questions about the Feb 13th session, just hit reply. I read every response.

Here at HTW (that’s my company, Humor That Works), we’ve been working for the last few months (eh, years) on a brand new Humor Intelligence report that will be launching in the next few weeks.

While doing research for it, and making some adjustments to my keynote to coincide with it, I came across a term I had never heard before:

freudenfreude — finding pleasure in another person’s good fortune

It’s a fantastic concept, to find joy in other people’s joy is a wonderful sentiment and something that we (hopefully) do with our friends.

Seemingly the opposite of schadenfraude (pleasure derived by someone from another person’s misfortune), I was impressed that German had covered both angles of fraude.

Subscribe now

Schadenfreude und Fredenfreude

So, naturally, I asked Pretzel (my German wife) about it. Here’s how that conversation went:

Me: Hey, why didn’t you ever tell me about the word, freudenfreude?
Her: What?
Me: Fredenfreude. Froy-den-froy-duh. Friend-den-fud? I don’t know, I can’t pronounce it.
Her: I have no idea what you’re talking about.
Me: Have you heard of Schadenfreude?
Her: Of course, I have it all the time with you. *smiles*
Me: So you’re just messing with me?
Her: No, I have really never heard that word before. It’s not real.
Me: It was in a NY Times piece a few years ago.
Her: Hold on… (she looks at something on her phone). Nein. I just checked the Der Duden (the authoritative dictionary of the German language) and it’s not there, so it doesn’t exist.
Me: Oh, I thought it was real. It sounds nice.
Her: *laughs*
Me: What?
Her: Sorry, I just had Schadenfreude again.

After a bit of internet searching, I found out she was right (as detailed in this pretty hilarious Slate article). My favorite section:

“First off,” he says, “the doubling makes it sound a little unsophisticated.” This sort of repetition is only common in German when “aimed at or uttered by toddlers,” … “Also,” he says, “Germans are generally not in the habit of showing happiness at another person’s happiness.” Indeed, the phrase schön für dich (“good for you”) is “predominantly used sarcastically.”

But no matter, for I have found an English word for the term, “confelicity,” which also doesn’t seem to exist despite it being written about on BBC…

Despite the fact that neither word “truly” exists (at least in offical dictionaries), the concept seems to have some scientific backing.

So, all of that is to say:

What are you currently excited about?

I want to find pleasure in your good fortunes so we can both be happier for it, even if there’s no real word to describe it. Leave a comment or hit reply and let me know!

Leave a comment

Wit regards,
-Andrew

PS. My Annual Humor Survey to find out what will best help you in 2026 is live. It’s just 8 questions and should take about 3–4 minutes.

If it feels like it’s been a minute since my last email, it has. Between the holidays, travel, and life doing what life does, I took a short pause.

And before jumping back in to the normal flow, I spent some time looking back at this newsletter in 2025.

Spoiler alert: I’m conducting my Annual Humor Survey (you should definitely take it).

A Newsletter Year in Review

Over the course of the year, I published more than 40 posts exploring humor, work, stress, and the occasional dad joke. Altogether, those essays were viewed more than a quarter of a million times (thanks mom!).

As I looked over the data, one thing stood out.

The posts that sparked the most engagement weren’t about being “funnier.” They were about stress, confidence, and using humor intentionally. They were about feeling more human at work.

Which makes sense, as I often say in my Humor That Works keynote:
to humor is to human.

After a year of writing, reading your replies, and seeing what resonated most, I realized something important. Rather than guessing what you need next, I want to listen more directly.

A short annual survey

So I’m running a short survey to better understand what you’re dealing with right now, what’s getting in the way of using humor at work, and where it could make the biggest difference for you in the year ahead.

It’s just 8 questions and should take about 3–4 minutes.

» Take the survey here:

Annual Humor Survey

I’ll share a summary of what I learn with everyone and I’ll use it to inform what we focus on in the coming year (e.g. do you all want more techniques, stories, or ppppuuunnnnnssss!!!).

Plus, a small thank you

As a thank-you for participating, five people will be randomly selected for a free Humor Tune-Up call with me.

On that call, we’ll:

• Talk through your goals for 2026

• Look at what’s currently making work harder than it needs to be

• Explore how humor might help, in a way that actually fits you

No prep required. No selling. Just a thoughtful conversation.

Whether or not you take the survey, I’m grateful you’re here and part of this community. And if your interests have changed and this newsletter is no longer for you, you can step away using the link at the bottom—no hard feelings at all.

Thanks for reading, and thanks in advance for helping shape what comes next.

Wit regards,
-Andrew

P.S. My most liked post last year was How to Use Humor Intentionally for Yourself and Others. Feel free to check it out if you missed it.

PPS. My least liked post was Laughing Together: The Power of Humor in Building Community. Take a look to see why it was terrible (jk, I think it’s solid).

PPPS. Don’t forget about the survey.

As an introvert, all of these social gatherings can take a toll on my energy and general love for the season. And my biggest challenge isn’t getting into conversations, it’s getting out of them.

Because, let’s be honest, I don’t have the social battery to survive eight straight “glory days” stories from Gary in Sales or Uncle Barry once again reminiscing about how good the Bengals were a few years ago.

I’m good for 5ish minutes of random small-talk banter and then need 25 minutes to recharge… (okay it’s not that extreme, but it can feel like it sometimes).

If you run into a similar challenge, here are three graceful ways to exit a conversation politely, professionally, and without feeling like you need to fake a fire alarm.

3 Graceful Ways to Exit a Conversation

1. The Half-Full Drink Strategy

This is one of my favorites because it requires almost no acting skills (and keeps you hyrdated): always keep a drink in your hand that is half full.

I don’t mean metaphorically, I mean literally. Have a cup in your hand that’s about 50% full / empty.

That way, whenever you’re ready to exit the conversation, you simply say something like, “Hey, I’m going to grab a quick refill.”

It’s low drama, easy to say, and socially bulletproof… unless, of course, the person says, “Me too, I’ll go with you!”

In which case, you might try…

2. The Purposeful Pivot

This one works especially well at work events or when you have kids at the family gathering.

When you can’t possibly stand another one of Gary’s stories that’s always borderline misogynistic, you spot someone across the room and say,
“Oh, I just saw John. I need to grab him for a quick project question.”

Or at a family gathering,
“I just saw my daughter and I want to make sure she actually eats something that isn’t smothered in cheese.”

The key here is to move quickly, as if you’re trying to “catch up to” the person.

Subscribe now

3. The Conversational Pass-Off

This last is can be a bit of a jerk move, but it works really well for the particularly long-winded talkers.

Sometimes you’re talking to someone who simply will not stop, which means you need to find a new audience.

If you can’t possibly stand another second of Uncle Barry saying the Bengals were robbed in Super Bowl LVI (I mean they were, but I’m not trying to relive it), you say something like,

“You know who agress with you, Aunt Sarah. She would love this.”

Then you bring Aunt Sarah over, get her caught up on the conversation, smile… and then exit.

It’s like conversational tag. Barry doesn’t care who he’s talking to, he just wants to talk, and you are no longer “it.”

Slightly mischievous? Yes. Effective? Extremely.

One thing to keep in mind: Whatever excuse you use, actually follow through on it.

If you say you are refilling your drink, refill it.
If you say you need to talk to someone, at least wave in their direction.
If you say you are going to the restroom, well, nature will back you up on that one.

Grace comes from consistency.

Don’t Be the One People Are Trying to Escape

All of this goes both ways. If you’re the one telling the story, watch for cues that the other person may be ready to exit.

If they’re glancing around the room, shifting their feet away from you, or giving you that polite smile that says, “I’ve enjoyed this, and also I am trapped…”

Those are your signals to wrap it up, pause, or give them an opening to leave.

The best conversationalists, the ones that bring out the best in introverts like me, aren’t just good at leaving, they’re good at letting others leave too.

Which, during the holidays, might be the greatest gift of all.

Got any other tips for exiting a conversation gracefully? Let me know in the comments.

Leave a comment

-Andrew

On the other hand, it was the 12 year anniversary of the death of my dad, someone who would have absolutely been blown away by hearing about Pineapple’s successes. To be fair, he passed before she was born and before I met Pretzel (my wife), so he would also be blown away by hearing about them in general.

In many ways, I was reminded of all of the feelings I wrote about 6 years ago on his anniversary when I shared “What They Don’t Tell You About Losing a Loved One.”

“The hardest part isn’t when times are tough. The hardest part is when times are good. The highest of the highs, the celebrations, the moments you’re proudest of. And you just wish that that person could see you shine. Not for yourself, not for your own ego, but so that they knew what they helped you become.”

Today would have definitely been a day where I talked to my dad about the life he helped me create.

My dad was a fan of skiing and would have been proud to know that in addition to Pineapple doing well, I’ve also been getting better.

This was my 5th skiing trip ever and I managed to do multiple medium difficulty hills, and even skied from the top of the peak to the bottom, over 5 miles, falling only once (and knocking my friend over in the proces…).

Subscribe now

Throughout it all, I thought of my dad. Particularly at the peak of the mountain, it reminded me of my trip to the Grand Canyon, as I shared in the book The United States of Laughter.

As I scanned the panorama, I felt like I was in The Lion King, like I was standing on Pride Rock where Simba was lifted out to the world. The clouds above reminded me of how *spoiler alert* after Mufasa died, he came to Simba in a vision in the sky.

I remembered my own father, who passed away a couple of years before, and the serenity of the moment brought with it a wave of emotion.

My dad never got to see this view. In his 59 years, he never saw the beauty of the Grand Canyon or the redwoods of California or anything outside of North America for that matter.

Guilt built in my body. Why did I deserve to see this view when so many others couldn’t, or wouldn’t, their entire life? What made me worthy of the opportunity to travel to all 50 states and beyond when others struggled just to get by, day to day, as my dad had struggled for the past few years before his death?

The guilt turned into sadness, a mourning for my father I hadn’t felt since I first learned of his passing.

I took in the view once again, one of the most beautiful I’d ever seen. The sadness turned to hope. Maybe, in a way, my dad was seeing the Grand Canyon now, through his son’s eyes. Not in a weird, “I’m a ghost, boooooo” way, or even a spirit-in-heaven way. But my memory of him was there with me in that moment, as if he were by my side, waiting to make the perfect dad joke.

“Do you see this beautiful canyon, Dad?”

“’I see.’ said the blind man, who picked up the hammer and saw.”

My dad never made it to this side of the world, let alone skied down it. But his memory was with me this past week, through the literal and figurative ups and downs of skiing and my emotions.

I have to think he’d be proud. Not just of me, or his granddaughter, but where our small little Tarvin family has gone.

And knowing him, he would probably ask me how I felt after a successful week of skiing. I’d say something like, “Great, but now I’m exhausted.” He’d reply, “Hi exhausted, I’m dad.”

-Andrew

Some people say it with pride, others with fear, most with a sigh of resignation. They seem to believe that humor is at odds with serious work. As if the moment something becomes important, the human brain must suddenly shut down all connections to levity.

But using humor doesn’t mean you don’t take the situation seriously. If used well, it means you’re serious about finding a solution using all appropriate means necessary.

Which brings me to one of my favorite stories about US President Abraham Lincoln.

The Most Serious Room In The Country

Few would argue that the United States has faced a more trying and difficult time than during the American Civil War (our current times notwithstanding).

The country was on the brink of division, it would become the deadliest war in US American history, and one of the largest civil rights issues of all time was at stake (slavery, not the admission of Kansas as a state).

In 1862, the first full year of the war, Lincoln called together a special session of his war cabinet. When the members of his cabinet got settled, he said, “Gentleman, did you ever read anything by Artemus Ward? Let me read you a chapter that is very funny.”

He read the chapter, laughing as he finished. No other member of the cabinet so much as smiled. So, to the astonishment of the attendees, Lincoln read another chapter.

Silence again. Lincoln didn’t waver; he didn’t apologize or feel he was in error.

Instead, the 16th president of the United States said,

Only then did he reveal why he had called them in. “I have called you here upon very important business. I have prepared a little paper of much significance.”

That little paper was the first draft of the Emancipation Proclamation, one of the most important documents in US American history. Introduced in the same meeting where Lincoln insisted on the value of laughter.

Lincoln understood something that too many people and workplaces forget: Humor does not trivialize seriousness, it helps us survive it.

Subscribe now

When The Work Is Serious, Boredom Is Dangerous

Years ago, while working with Pablo Suarez at the Red Cross, he shared why he was so keen on learning how to effectively use humor in his work in disaster preparedness:

“If what you are communicating is important, then boredom has serious consequences.”

Read that again.

If your work is important, if your message matters, if you want to make a difference, then disengagement is not neutral. It’s a risk.

Because humor isn’t about “telling jokes.” Humor is about keeping people awake, engaged, and emotionally capable of processing hard things. Especially when the work is heavy. Especially when the stakes are high.

If the Red Cross can embrace humor while responding to disasters, and if Lincoln can embrace humor while preserving the Union, then I’m fairly certain you can use it during a budget meeting or a performance review.

Times feel too serious for humor? The truth is times are too serious not to use humor.

Your Turn

I would love to hear from you.

What’s an example you’ve seen of humor being used effectively in a serious moment?

Leave a comment

Big or small, life-changing or everyday, reply and share your story.

Your examples help prove something important: Humor is not the opposite of seriousness. It is a tool for navigating it.

Wit regards,
-Andrew

I was definitely nervous considering my ability to speak Spanish was surpassed by my 4 year old daughter… 2 years ago. But the set went well and I walked off stage thinking, “Okay, estoy mejorando.”

But my biggest “aha” came when I sat back down and watched the rest of the performers.

The audience would erupt into huge, rolling laughter at jokes I only half understood. I would smile, nod, and laugh politely a second or two behind everyone else.

It felt like trying to enter a conversation a beat too late. Not excluded intentionally, but still very aware that I was not fully in the in-group.

There was one joke in particular where a comedian said something, there was a brief pause, and then a huge laugh and extended applause break. And I was just sitting there thinking, “que?”

(I wish I could tell you what the joke was, but honestly, I have zero idea of what the comedian was even talking about.)

In that moment, I was fully reminded that humor is one of the fastest ways humans create belonging. If you get the joke, you feel like one of the group. You’re fast friends, on the same side, and having fun together.

But if you don’t get the joke, you feel like an outsider, even if only for a second. And that feeling, in a comedy club or a conference room, matters more than we often realize.

Why Using Humor with Intention Matters

I talk a lot about humor as a skill, and this experience reinforced why that matters.

When people don’t use humor intentionally, when they just “wing it,” they tend to fall back on what worked in familiar environments: the sarcasm they used in high school, the banter their college friends loved, the puns they see in real life that they share with their BFF (is that just me?).

That works great with the people who share the same history. It works less well when the room is mixed. Add different ages, backgrounds, cultures, power dynamics, or even language levels, and suddenly the “funny” falls flat.

Some people react by avoiding humor altogether because they don’t want to get it wrong. Others keep using humor freely without thinking about the ripple effect.

Intentional humor sits in the middle. It’s thoughtful, flexible, and adaptive. And most importantly, it’s inclusive.

Subscribe now

Three Steps to More Inclusive Humor

Creating the type of humor that brings people in versus pushes people away requires Consideration (one of the eight competencies of humor).

If you want to be the type of leader (or person) that uses humor to build relationships and community, here are three things to keep in mind:

1. Know Your Audience, Including the Quiet Ones

Context shapes comedy. Before using a joke that works with your best friends, take a moment to consider who is actually in the room. What do they need? What do they expect? What’s your relationship with them? Who might be smiling politely even if they do not fully get it?

Humor lands best when you understand the real humans hearing it.

2. Avoid Punching Down

If someone has to pay for the laugh, let it be you. Self-deprecating humor, observational humor, or story-based humor usually land safely. Making someone else the target is far riskier. If the joke sacrifices someone’s confidence or comfort, the long-term cost outweighs the short-term laugh.

And don’t forget a cardinal rule of playful teasing: never make fun of someone for something they can’t change.

3. Use Humor as a Bridge, Not a Shortcut

Inside jokes are powerful bonding tools, but only if everyone is inside. If your humor references something only a few people understand, add quick context or choose a more universal angle.

Inclusive humor brings people along for the ride rather than assuming they are already strapped in.

Leave a comment

Humor is a Bridge to Connection

Humor isn’t just about laughter. It’s about belonging, connection, and shared understanding. It’s about whether we feel like we are part of something or standing slightly outside of it.

And that awareness matters everywhere we go, from a comedy club in Panama City to the conference room on a Tuesday morning.

Because despite only catching fifty percent of the jokes last night, I still felt welcomed. The comedians, the producers, and the audience made space for me even though mi espanol no es bueno.

Now I just need to improve my Spanish before the next show... maybe my 4 year old can help.

Con Humor,
-Andrew

✅Host a paid, virtual masterclass on the skill of humor.

It went well. People showed up. We laughed, we learned, we lolled.

And yet… I still feel a little “meh.”

Despite the overwhelmingly positive feedback I received from the participants, I can’t help but feel a bit disappointed.

"I loved it."
"It was a systematic deep dive into the mechanics of humor."
"More!!! (Please)”

Why? Because the class didn’t sell out. I was aiming for 12 participants, 10 paid, and only 8 showed up.

And while I’m grateful for those 8 (they were incredible), I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t hoping for a full room.

I recognize 12 was a bit of an arbitrary number, but it’s also a low number. I chose it because it’s still small enough to be hands-on but large enough to have a variety of attendees.

Plus, there are over 12,000 people on this newsletter, so I thought having a 0.1% purchase rate was totally doable.

Failure is Just Data

For a long time, I’ve preached that “failure is just data.” If a joke doesn’t land, it doesn’t mean I’m not funny—it just means that joke didn’t work… yet.

But I’ve also realized something:

It’s way easier to have this “growth mindset” when you already have success under your belt.

A failed joke doesn’t bother me because I’ve had incredibly successful ones before, like this one with 4 million views:

But I’ve spent the past 18 months trying different ways to bring this skill of humor directly to you via courses, challenges, live sessions, and a bit of coaching… and I still haven’t had that “runaway success” moment.

So when this workshop didn’t fill, it was harder to chalk it up as “just data.”

Instead, my brain did what brains do: it tried to tell me a dramatic story, something like, “See? This will never work. Just stick to keynotes and accept that travel wins and family time loses.”

And while that story feels true in the moment… it isn’t.

Subscribe now

Overcoming the Sting of Disappointment

I’ve talked to a few colleagues and mentors and they’ve all told me not to view this experience as a disappointment.

After all, I helped 8 people unlock their skill of humor. And I’m grateful for them taking a chance, showing up, and making the experience genuinely fun and insightful.

One of the principles I learned from the Applied Improv Network is: “Whoever is meant to be there, will be there.” And they were.

I get it. But I also get that pretending like you feel 100% amazing when it’s only 50% true isn’t healthy in the long run.

But there are two things I’ve found that help get over the sting of disappointment. The first, I’m doing right now:

1. Debrief the Experience

The first step is getting whatever thoughts you have about the experience out of your head. If all you do is ponder and stew on the disappointment internally, it tends to snowball and feel bigger than it actually is.

If you talk about it or write it down instead, the logical perspective tends to come through. Just writing this all to you is helping me focus on the positives moreso than the negatives.

And with reflection, I realize this experience is the first of many, a stepping stone in the right direction. As we learned in Adventure Time,

The content’s strong. The main feedback from the group was they wanted more time: more chances to workshop, practice, and get feedback. That’s an easy fix.

Where I struggle is the marketing. I know that “if you build it, they will come” only worked in Field of Dreams. And yet, I didn’t do a great job of articulating why humor isn’t just a nice-to-have in today’s tough environment, it’s a must-have. That’s what I have to suck my way to getting better at.

2. Take action

The second step is to move quickly to action. Rather than wallow in despair doing nothing, decide on baby steps you can take to move forward. This experience can become just a stepping stone IF I keep on stepping.

Help Me Improve the Humor Lab

To that end, I’d love to do an informal survey to help me understand why 99% of you weren’t interested in the Skill of Humor Live Lab.

Just click the reason that best fits you:

1. The timing didn’t work for me

2. It felt too expensive for me right now

3. I wasn’t sure it was right for me

4. I didn’t even see the announcement

It’s just a click with an optional follow-up question after that (unless you want to share more). As a bonus, I’ll share the humor handout from the workshop for completing the survey.

Despite that small tinge of disappointment, I know that this weekend was a step in the right direction.

Plus, I did check off one my New Year’s Resolutions. Now I just have 47 days to get into the best shape of my life by putting on 10 pounds of muscle… that’s doable right?

Wit regards,
-Andrew

As an engineer, I love numbers. They make sense. My favorite number? All of them. My favorite, favorite number? 8. It’s a perfect closed loop, an infinity sign standing tall, a zero with a belt on, and it’s part of the greatest kids’ joke of all time:

Why was six afraid of seven? Because seven eight nine.

Or the Yoda version: why was five afraid of seven? Because six, seven eight.

Numbers can be beautiful. 2,479,991,040 is the average life expectancy in minutes. They can be nostalgic. 07734 spells “hello” on an upside-down calculator. And they can be scary…

Like the number 90,000.

That’s how many hours the average person works in their lifetime. Ninety thousand hours.

That is a lot of time to spend doing something that feels like a grind instead of something that gives you energy. Work shouldn’t be about squeezing every ounce of productivity out of whatever motivation you can muster.

It should be meaningful, engaging, and yes, even enjoyable. Otherwise, we’re spending 90,000 hours just “working for the weekend” (shout out Loverboy).

Why Humor Is the Solution

Humor is how we reclaim those hours. It’s not about telling jokes. It’s about using intention and levity to create connection, reduce stress, and turn “have to” moments into “get to” moments.

Humor helps us shift perspective, build resilience, and make the experience of working and living a little lighter.

The research backs it up. People who use humor at work are seen as more competent, confident, and likable. Teams that laugh together trust each other more, solve problems faster, and handle challenges with greater creativity.

Humor isn’t the opposite of seriousness. It’s what helps us do serious work better.

Subscribe now

Your Agency of Humor

Once you’ve developed your sense of humor (Appreciation and Consideration) and strengthened your ability to humor (Curation, Creation, Performance, and Facilitation), the next step is leveraging your Agency with Humor.

This is all about how you use humor intentionally, for yourself (Application) and for others (Empowerment).

Humor Competency #7: Application

Application is the ability to strategically use humor to deliver a specific outcome.

It helps you reset when things go wrong, find perspective when stress builds up, and stay human when the pressure is on. It’s basically engineering humor for those 30 benefits of humor we shared above.

Humor is the secret that not only helps you achieve your goals, but also makes the journey more fun.

Humor Competency #8: Empowerment

If Application is about using humor to solve problems for yourself, Empowerment is about helping others do the same.

It’s the skill of creating an environment where people feel safe to be themselves, share ideas, and bring their sense of humor into work.

As the saying goes, “tell a man a joke, he laughs for a moment. Teach a man to joke, he laughs for a lifetime.”

Your Invitation

Tomorrow, I’m hosting the Skill of Humor Live Lab, a 4-hour interactive experience where we’ll put all three building blocks of humor into practice: Sense of Humor, Ability with Humor, and Agency with Humor.

It’s the only session where I’ll be giving direct, personalized feedback, and there are only 2 spots remaining.

If you want your 90,000 hours to feel lighter, more meaningful, and maybe even a little more fun, join us tomorrow.

→ Reserve your spot
Registration closes at midnight tonight.

Wit regards,
-Andrew

PS. If you’re on the fence, I got you. If you attend and don’t feel you got real, practical value, just let me know and I’ll refund the full amount. Enroll for the funny.