In politics, there’s a fine line between making jokes and becoming the joke

In the world of American politics, humor can either be a tool or a trap.

When done effectively, humor has the power to heal and humanize. Jokes can help engage new audiences and make complex discussions more accessible. They can help rally a base and make messaging more memorable and effective. What’s more, humor is often associated with positive traits such as trust and intelligence.

But there’s a fine line between making jokes and being the joke — between getting laughs, and getting laughed at.

Candidates would do themselves a favor by knowing the difference.

As a professional comedy writer and messaging strategist, I’ve partnered with individuals and brands across the world for more than a decade, helping people of all backgrounds understand the value of humor.

Take it from me: when you’re making jokes, you’re owning a room. You’re in control. You’re relating to your audience, showing intention with your words, and coming off as authentic and vulnerable.

When you are the joke, you demonstrate a lack of self-awareness. You’re detached from your audience. You can be seen as weak, fragile, unserious, unempathetic, and disengaged. Thinking that people are laughing with you instead of at you can reveal signs of ego and narcissism.

There’s no presidential election where this is more apparent — or important — than right now, with the race between Kamala Harris and Donald Trump.

On one side, you have the Democratic ticket. From top to bottom, the campaign has been focused on wielding humor as a strategic tool — a way to connect with voters and bring folks into the conversation.

Take the campaign’s decision to lean into “Brat Summer,” a cultural nod to Charli XCX’s hit album. By replacing the campaign’s X profile banner with a photo mimicking the lime green album cover, the campaign was able to drive traffic and conversation in a fresh, fun, and engaging way. It’s the sort of on-brand humor you would expect from a presidential campaign — and it worked, to the tune of nearly $16 million in media exposure.

Then there’s the Harris-Walz communication style. From press releases to emails, the team uses a nonchalant, informal (yet always on-message) tone to break through conventional norms. For instance, after Donald Trump had a live, unfiltered discussion with Elon Musk, the campaign released a statement on “whatever that was,” further showing how communication with a wink can go a long way to building a memorable and effective brand identity.

And, of course, there’s her VP pick, Governor Tim Walz. Gov. Walz himself is a case study in the effectiveness of well-placed humor in politics. Whether it’s his signature style dad jokes, like when he announced he was joining TikToK (or “TimTalk” as he calls it), or his off-the-cuff quips, highlighted in a now-viral clip of him insisting to his vegetarian daughter that turkey is, in fact, not meat (at least not in Minnesota).

The Harris-Walz campaign’s consistent use of humor isn’t just a coincidence, it’s part of their messaging toolkit and identity. And by continuously punching-up and often making themselves the subject of their jokes, their team ensures they’re always in on the joke — and never the target.

In stark contrast, the Trump campaign often finds themselves on the receiving end of jokes. Trump’s obsession with crowd sizes and belittling nicknames like “Crooked Hillary” or “Sleepy Joe” may energize his base, but it also makes him an easy target for comedians and critics alike. It often positions him as the antagonist, not the hero.

In the most recent presidential debate with Kamala Harris, he spoke of baseless claims of immigrants “eating pets,” and “concepts of a plan” when asked about the specifics of his approach to delivering an alternative to ObamaCare. Do I even have to bring up the “covfefe” tweet?

Similarly, Trump’s VP pick, J.D. Vance, has also found himself in situations where he is the punchline rather than the punchline provider.

When speaking in Wisconsin on how he is preparing to debate Gov. Walz, Vance said, “I found a good friend from back home who embellishes and lies a lot, I’m having him stand in for Tim Walz.” Naturally, people thought he was referring to his running mate.

In a local deli, Vance asked the owner if they had any food they didn’t like, so he could “feed it to the journalists on the plane.” Another poorly-timed jest that backfired.

When it comes to humor, the key difference between the two campaigns is their understanding of it — as well as their interest in its impact.

Harris-Walz understands that humor is a great equalizer. They understand that it can bring people together, and that you can still take politics seriously without having to be serious all the time. The campaign crafts their jokes strategically, ensuring they’re in control of the narrative and the laughs. For the candidates, the goal isn’t to become comedic greats — it’s to build community, connect with everyday people, and energize voters.

Trump-Vance, on the other hand, often accidentally stumbles into becoming the actual subjects of their jokes — centering themselves in coverage and missing opportunities to connect with voters in a meaningful, human, and empathetic way.

As we look towards this election and beyond, the ability to use humor effectively will become an increasingly crucial skill for political candidates as voters grow tired of traditional figures and further seek out more authentic leaders. The most successful will be those who can strike a balance of using humor to connect with voters while avoiding gaffes or mean-spirited remarks that could further divide or make them the butt of jokes.

In other words, for candidates, it’s not enough to get people to laugh — you must get people to laugh for the right reasons. Bringing people together, not bullying. Punching up, not punching down.

And if we, as voters, can’t tell the difference, the ultimate joke will be on our country and the hard-working American people.