I keynoted to 2,000 people and didn't hear a single laugh
Also, it's time to toot your own horn. Nominations close Monday.
Quick note: 6th Annual Humor Award nominations close Monday (4/20). Nominate Here.
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.
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.