What's killing our sense of humour (and how do we get it back)?

When do we stop laughing?

We stop laughing when we're overcome with pain, when we're too cynical, when we're fighting cruelty. When we lose the lightness that helps us tackle the hard stuff.

But here's the real question(s): Are we forgetting to laugh because we're hyper-aware of what's going on around us? is our obsession with doomscrolling and algorithm-fed outrage making it worse?

A lot of us use AI for therapy: how to text your crush, fix family drama, solve problems without actually doing the work. It's one thing to outsource our emotional labour to chatbots, but it's another to expect it to fix our sense of humour (asking AI to tell you dad jokes does not count).

Your phone is gaslighting you

You know those videos that suck you in with titles like "The disgusting truth about men women need to know" or "the real reason why you got ghosted?" You pause, click, maybe even share it with friends because it's relatable. And let’s be honest, it’s easier to bond over outrage in group chats than to actually gather IRL and talk about real life.

The problem isn’t that we set boundaries. It’s that we’re so uncomfortable having to pay the price of annoyance for dealing with those around us, we’d rather doomscroll for hours on end, not realising how it shapes our brain. You're not just stressed about actual problems anymore, you're also stressed about potential problems.

Think about it, if you're constantly watching rage-bait videos telling you why or why not your partner having a girl best friend is a red flag, you're probably too busy scrutinising his behaviour around her, than actually listening to him and laughing at his jokes. The video may be backed by someone's experience, but that constant low-level anxiety makes it hard to relax, even around our close ones, and this is just one subtle way it happens.

Social media loves that. It doesn’t want you happy; it wants you hooked. Anger, fear, and drama get clicks, so your feed becomes a funhouse mirror, reflecting your worst thoughts back at you until everything feels like an emergency. Laughing starts to feel… wrong. Like you’re slacking off while the world burns.

Why our algorithm draws us in

No news is good news because bad news gets more traction, so algorithms shove it in your face 24/7. As a result, you're basically mainlining stress.

The meme cycle has become faster than ever, which means constantly keeping up with trends just to get the jokes. Ultimately, this steals our ability to laugh at real-world moments. When was the last time you stopped to watch a cat play outside your screen?

Our brains are losing the ability to create dopamine naturally, becoming dependent on reels, shorts, and other short-form content for pleasure.

We've traded real annoyances, whether it's eye-rolling at your friend's bad jokes or your sibling stealing your fries, for manufactured rage. Now it's about arguing in comments about what's funny, with people telling you to "let the creator breathe" because you're the troll who "doesn't get the joke." By that point, you're probably so chronically online you've forgotten what real, hysterical laughter with friends even feels like.

We used to laugh with people. Now we laugh at them.

We've almost forgotten how to laugh with people. Now we just laugh at them. One viral video appears, and suddenly everyone's rushing to make their own mocking version. Ashton Hall posts his morning routine and the internet explodes with parodies.

We've weaponised humour as a way to garner likes, followers, and clout by monetising other people's pain, real or imagined. We don't share jokes with friends anymore because we're too busy roasting strangers in comments. We don't bond over life's absurdities, instead we pick teams and sneer from the sidelines. The longer we live in these toxic bubbles, the harder it becomes to genuinely laugh.

Now when someone with actual creativity considers sharing something original, they have to hesitate. They know they're potentially painting a target on their back just by putting themselves out there. And suddenly, that doesn't feel very funny at all.

You don't have to be miserable as a "woke" person

There's a cruel irony in how awareness steals joy. The deeper we dig into the world's problems, the harder it becomes to laugh at silly things without some part of our brain piping up: "Actually, about that..." as if happiness itself were irresponsible.

Yes, the world's on fire. But treating every moment like a moral emergency can be exhausting. So laugh at your sister's jokes. Snort at bad puns. Let something be funny just because it is.