Humor can be a double-edged sword when leaders use it in the workplace. Let’s picture two scenarios.
Scenario one: Leon Moores is watching the Ohio State football game with a couple of buddies in a neighbor’s living room. One of the guys—let’s call him Dave—played baseball in college and admittedly doesn’t know much about football.
A penalty flag is thrown on the field. Dave, noting it was a passing play, says, “Oh, man, pass interference.”
Leon sees that the flag was thrown in the backfield. Because he watches a lot of football, it’s obvious to him that the penalty will turn out to be an offensive holding call. Leon looks at his buddy and says, “Dave, that’s quite possibly the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”
Everyone has a little laugh. Dave laughs too, letting the “insult” roll off him. “I told you, I don’t know anything about football. I played a thinking man’s game: baseball.”
The guys have another chuckle. No harm, no foul.
Scenario two: We’re on rounds at a teaching hospital, and Leon Moores, MD, is the sixty-three-year-old professor of neurosurgery. Sheila, a fourth-year medical student rotating in neurosurgery and aspiring to be a neurosurgeon, looks at an MRI image and comments, “That temporal mass is enhancing.”
Moores, who has studied thousands of MRIs, knows it’s actually a T2-weighted image; no contrast was given. So he says, in an attempt to joke, “Sheila, that’s quite possibly the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”
Same Joke. Same Intent. Very Different Effect.
Sheila, who doesn’t know a lot about neurosurgery yet, feels humiliated but tries not to show it. The other team members now feel awkward after seeing her called out. This stifles their willingness to chime in. They don’t want to risk being embarrassed, too. Moores’ joke has instantly altered the psychological safety of the environment.
Why? Because in this clinical scenario, Moores has a different psychological size than the other participants. In the first scenario, a bunch of buddies were sitting around a living room. They had equal status; no one had greater power. In the second scenario, Moores is not just “one of the gang.” He’s the gray-templed professor of neurosurgery and pediatrics. His words carry more weight.
Sheila probably goes home and stews on her experience all night. She may even decide, consciously or unconsciously, to be more reserved about expressing her thoughts in the future.
Am I saying leaders shouldn’t joke? No. Quite the contrary. Humor in leaders is an essential tool. In high-stress environments, it can be the best tool on our belt. But we must be conscious of its potential effects.
When I was in the military, a Navy admiral I worked for once said, “Self-deprecating humor is the only kind commanders can afford.” I’ve since learned how true this is. When there is a mismatch in psychological size, you must go the extra mile to encourage people to speak up. If you make them the butt of your jokes—even in a well-intentioned way—you will succeed only at inhibiting them from making their voices heard. And vital perspectives may be lost.
Humor in leaders can greatly enhance a team’s enthusiasm and effectiveness. But you must be thoughtful in ensuring it’s the kind of humor that relaxes people, bonds them with one another, and encourages them to be more self-forgiving, not less so. Never make anyone else pay the price for your jokes. If there’s a “cost” to the humor, be sure you’re the one who pays it. The payoff can be huge: a team that feels safe to speak their minds.