Joke theft is a massive taboo in the comedy world. When a stand-up comedian does it, they’re vilified and seen as a hack – unable to come up with any original and funny material of their own. But more than that, joke theft is seen as morally wrong, and it’s easy to see why. It involves someone deceiving their audience, passing off someone else’s idea as their own, and reaping the rewards of that person’s effort, creativity, and style. It is a form of plagiarism (assuming the comedy thief’s rehashing of the joke is close enough to the original to appear clearly stolen).
In everyday interactions, joke theft can occur, too. Maybe you’ve been in this situation yourself: you tell a joke or make a witty comment or pun, but the whole group didn’t catch it – only one person next to you did. They find it funny and laugh. Since the others didn’t hear it, this other person repeats your joke, without saying ‘So and so just said…’, and so they’re passing it off as their own. If it gets a laugh, this can instinctively feel like an injustice (albeit a pretty minor one). It’s as if some unwritten social norm has been broken: don’t steal others’ contributions to the social dynamic. (This is depicted in a Key & Peele sketch.)
I’ve been noticing how comedy theft is rife on social media. I see the same skits repeated over and over again on Instagram. One example that comes to mind is the ‘funny-sounding train stops in the UK’ bit. But, if people are just using this basic premise and making their own variations, is this really theft? In this case, the comedy isn’t being copied verbatim, only the premise is. In contrast, I’ve seen this comedy reel on Instagram – ‘How little children eat their snacks’ – by Kyle Bossone copied by someone else, without giving credit to the original creator.
This more-or-less exact copying of comedy reels is all over social media: people notice what content performs well, and so they just copy it themselves, without giving credit to the original creator, and most viewers go away with the impression that the comedy thief is the one who came up with it. And as a result, they get to enjoy (potentially) viral content and loads of views, comments, likes, shares, and new subscribers – many social rewards, in other words. However, some people in the comments section notice the comedy theft, express their outrage at the plagiarism, and tag the original creator in their comment (which both alerts the creator to the theft and directs others to the original content, so that the theft is proven). Exposing comedy thieves on social media can feel like exacting justice.
It seems that so long as comedy content creators give credit to the original creator of some content, there is no wrongdoing involved (although, if a comedy reel is essentially a copy, then it loses its punch: there has to be some variety or creativity involved – as in the case of the ‘UK train stops bit’ – for it to be engaging).
Intention also seems to matter in the ethics of comedy. Undoubtedly, many similar jokes are similar because people have a shared sense of humour, or just purely because people behave in similar ways, and people love comedy, so it makes sense that some type of behaviour or cultural norm will be poked fun at in a particular way. Some cases of purported ‘joke theft’ are just coincidences. In these cases, there is no intention to act deceptively and to plagiarise; the only negative effect is that the similar material may have the appearance of being stolen, or just that it won’t be perceived as unique or interesting. We can’t be expected to be aware of every comedian’s take on a given subject, so it would be unfair to view unintentionally rehashing a joke as unethical.
Moreover, in many cases, it’s difficult to prove a joke is stolen, and it’s also difficult to say who gets to claim ownership over a joke. What level of detail does someone get to claim as their own? The precise wording? The premise? A particular phrase? The timing? The physical aspects of the comedy, such as facial expressions, body language, or intonation? For instance, Joe Rogan has been accused of just copying Sam Kinison’s shouting style of comedy (Kinison is one of his inspirations and favourite comedians). When a comedian’s approach seems too close to someone else’s, perhaps this is not seen in the same light as joke theft (especially since this parroting is sometimes unintentional: we all do this to an extent when exposed to people we like or admire), but we may nonetheless judge the approach as unoriginal.
In a piece for The Guardian on joke theft, neuroscientist and comedian Dean Burnett writes:
It’s even worse when people make big profit from the unfairly obtained work of others. Comics in particular depend on their joke writing and material to earn a living, but the internet means it’s easier than ever to scour the networks, looking for good material from people who aren’t household names, and presenting it on your own platform. Such people/sites (naming no names to avoid being sued) can then sit back and watch all the web traffic from people who are none the wiser but recognise a good joke, soaking up all the delicious ad revenue in the vague hope that money can fill that gaping hole where a soul should be.
So, the wrongness of comedy theft seems to be not only in the intention involved but also in the consequences. One does have to wonder, however, how significant the consequences are in the case of comedy theft on social media. In the case of a more popular content creator stealing the comedy reels of a smaller content creator, this seems more unjust (especially if the stolen content goes viral) than the opposite situation: someone plagiarising content made by a highly popular creator that’s already gone viral. In the latter case, the effect on the original creator may be minimal, but in the former, they may be losing out on opportunities to grow their account through their own effort and creativity.
The proliferation of comedy theft on social media raises questions about what the threshold is for a comedy reel to be considered ‘stolen’. It’s difficult to base this on a collective vote: the plethora of content means that we can’t all pick up on instances when a comedy video has been plagiarised, and so you won’t find an overwhelming majority of people in any given comments section calling out the content creator. As in the case of stand-up comedy theft, it can be difficult to ascertain what content has been intentionally stolen; however, as in the case of stand-up comedy as well, when you play certain videos one after the other, it should become obvious if the content was intentionally copied. And if this was done without credit being given to the original creator, it is fair to judge this as unjust. The plagiarism becomes even more egregious when a more popular creator does it, and especially when they stand to potentially profit from the comedy theft.
