Our complex and often ambivalent relationship with technology, imbued with anxiety, fear, but also immense fascination, has found a unique outlet in humor. Over the decades, comedy has proven to be a key mechanism by which we cope with the relentless advance of computer technology in modern life. It is precisely this complex dynamic that Associate Professor Benjamin Mangrum from MIT explores in his new, provocative book titled "Comedy of Computation: Or, How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Obsolescence," published by Stanford University Press. Mangrum analyzes in detail how films, television, literature, and theater use humor as a means of reconciling with the inevitable presence of machines in our lives, but also as a sharp critique of their unexpected consequences.

When Steve Jobs first publicly demonstrated the Apple Macintosh in early 1984, it was no coincidence that carefully written jokes were an integral part of the presentation. After pulling the computer out of a bag, the Macintosh, using Samsung's speech recognition technology, delivered a quip aimed at its competitor IBM and their bulky mainframe computers: "Never trust a computer you can't lift." This move was far from mere entertainment; it was a strategic act. In the first decades of computing's penetration into the cultural sphere, starting in the 1950s, computers were perceived as cold, impersonal, and potentially dangerous to human interests. The culmination of such a perception is embodied in Stanley Kubrick's 1968 cult film, "2001: A Space Odyssey," where the ship's computer HAL 9000, with its soothing, almost hypnotic voice, becomes a deadly threat to the astronauts. Jobs, on a mission to sell the idea of a personal computer, used humor to alleviate precisely these fears, to give the machine a more human, approachable, and less intimidating character.

Humor as a means of domesticating technology

Professor Mangrum points out that it is precisely comedy that has become the cultural format that makes technology "ordinary." "In circumstances where computing might seem inhumane or impersonal, comedy allows us to integrate it into our lives in a way that gives it meaning," explains Mangrum. He argues that this process of assimilation is not new. His interest in this topic was partly sparked by William Marchant's 1955 play, "The Desk Set," which was later adapted into a popular film starring Katharine Hepburn and Spencer Tracy. The plot revolves around office workers who face the arrival of an "electronic brain" designed to optimize their work, which causes them to fear losing their jobs. Through comedic plots, the play explores how humans and computers will coexist, ultimately suggesting symbiosis rather than replacement.

Surprisingly, romantic comedies have proven to be one of the most prominent contemporary genres dealing with technology and its impact on interpersonal relationships. Mangrum explains why in his book. Their narrative structure often involves twists of fate, and this pattern is sometimes applied to technology itself. A computer or a new technological platform may initially act as an obstacle that separates people, but through the development of the plot, it transforms into a tool that brings them together. "One of the common tropes in romantic comedies are characters or factors that interfere with the happy union of two people," Mangrum notes. "Often, during the dramatic arc, this obstacle or interfering character is transformed into a partner or collaborator and is assimilated into the happy couple's community. This provides a template for the way some cultural producers want to present the experience of computing. It starts as an obstacle and ends as a partner." This narrative arc, which dates back to antiquity and was common in Shakespeare's time, has perfectly adapted to the digital age, offering a comforting story about how we can come to terms with technological change.

The evolution of the tech joke: From mainframes to Silicon Valley

Of course, humor is not an immutable category; it constantly changes and adapts. As Mangrum says, "Comedy is not a fixed resource. It is a constantly changing toolbox." Jokes that were once funny may be completely incomprehensible today. Jobs's quip about mainframe computers or the comedic scenes from Nora Ephron's 1998 film "You've Got Mail," which relied on the sounds of dial-up modems and the slowness of the internet at the time, would probably not make today's audience, accustomed to wireless connections and instant communication, laugh. Obsolescence is not only the fate of technology, but also of the humor that accompanies it.

Entering the 21st century, Mangrum observes the emergence of a new, dominant category of humor he calls the "Great Techno-Industrial Joke." This form of comedy focuses on the huge gap between the noble, almost utopian goals that technology companies proclaim and the often grim or banal results that their products create. Social media, for example, promised new worlds of connection, democratization of information, and social exploration. While they have brought certain benefits that people enjoy, they have simultaneously generated polarization, disinformation, toxicity, and mental health problems. The social effects of technology are complex and contradictory.

"The tech industry announces that some of its products have revolutionary or utopian goals, but the achievements of many of them fall far short of these grandiose announcements," says Mangrum. "That's a funny setup for a joke. People claim to be saving the world, when in reality we're just processing emails faster. But it's also a form of criticism aimed at the big tech giants, as their products are more complicated than they first appear." Entire television series, such as the acclaimed HBO series "Silicon Valley," have delved deep into this territory, building their humor on the absurd contrast between the visionary language of start-up culture and the mundane, often greedy reality.

Authenticity in the age of algorithms and selfies

The book "Comedy of Computation" also deals with other key aspects of the collision between modern culture and technology. One of them is the concept of personal authenticity, which, as Mangrum notes, is a relatively new social construct. It is this sphere of life that has come into direct conflict with computing, as social media is flooded with accusations of inauthenticity, false representation, and carefully curated lives. "This ethic of authenticity is connected to comedy, because we make jokes about people who are not authentic," explains Mangrum. Humor becomes a tool for exposing the performative nature of online identities, from influencers who promote products they don't believe in, to ordinary users who present an idealized version of their daily lives.

This tension creates fertile ground for satire and comedy that questions what it means to be "real" in a digitally mediated world. Benjamin Mangrum's work has also received praise from other scholars. Mark Goble, a professor of English at the University of California, Berkeley, called it "key to understanding the technological world in its complexity, absurdity, and vibrancy." Mangrum himself emphasizes that his book is not a one-sided condemnation or celebration of technology, but an exploration of its full complexity. "There's this really complicated, messy picture," he says. "And comedy sometimes finds a way to experience that messy experience and find pleasure in it, while at other times it neatly wraps it up in a moral that can make things seem tidier than they actually are."

Mangrum adds that the book focuses on "the combination of threat and pleasure that has been present throughout the history of computers, the ways in which it has been assimilated and has shaped society, with real progress and benefits, but also with real threats, for example to employment. I am interested in the duality, the simultaneous and seemingly conflicting features of that experience." Through humor, he argues, we not only cope with technological anxiety, but we also actively participate in shaping the cultural meaning of technology, turning fear into laughter, and the unknown into something we can connect with.

Source: Massachusetts Institute of Technology