Power and Paradox in Humor:
Imitation Isn’t Always Flattery
Storyline by Will Hall
The Situation
Many of those who run around in my circles would believe that Army-Navy is the greatest rivalry of all. On the football field that may be true. But, I can’t conceive of a bigger organizational rivalry than that rivalry within the Navy that continues to perpetuate between Naval Aviators (affectionately called flyboys) and Surface Warfare Officers (blandly described as shipdrivers).
Although a flyboy, I felt a need to bridge the gap between the two groups, and worked to become one of the few Naval Aviators qualified to drive ships. Sometimes this served my aviation unit well, slightly easing tensions with the crew of the ship on which we were deployed because I could relate to the ship’s crew on their terms. However, I found a more sure way to ease tensions and to develop favorable relationships in these situations was to interject humor that appealed to both groups, in a sense unifying the two through the laughter they shared.
One of the areas where aviators and shipdrivers compete with each other is in the proficient use of radio communications. Military radio communications are driven by code words (many whose meanings are no longer secret) and protocols (which can be cumbersome even though intended to streamline communications) that are meant to standardize dialog on the airwaves. Both flyboys and shipdrivers strive for perfection in radio communications. After all, in some exercises and missions, military units might never see each other because each would be operating hundreds of miles apart from the other. So the only way units might have to evaluate the professionalism of each other is through the communications one receives from the other and from evaluating each other’s performance based on the end results of the mission.
Characteristically, shipdrivers take great pride in maintaining formality on the airwaves, producing an almost mechanical precision in their communications. Flyboys, on the other hand, seek to portray a kind of casualness while also being precise, striving to create an image of coolness at the controls.
On one particular ship which my aviation unit was deployed, the captain was particularly harsh to his officers about lack of perfection in any matters, but especially so about even the slightest deviation in written and verbal communications. However, there was a kind of an ongoing rebellion by the crew that was manifested by outward acts of casualness about some details--even though internally these same crewmembers would be fretting about the precision of the outcome.
My state-of-the-art helicopter was specially designed so that my onboard computers operated in synchronization with the ship’s computer systems via a discrete radio frequency that was unique to our systems. Often we also transmitted our verbal communications to the ship via this computer link confident that no outsiders could overhear. The ship had only a few designated consoles that could communicate via this computer link, so we felt comfortable also that our secure communications were shared with only a loyal few on the ship--those of the ship’s crew who manned these consoles.
I often looked for small things that I could do to break up the drudgery of mundane events. Although every takeoff and landing was critical for the flight crew, it was a boring task for the ship’s crew who supported us--manning stations for thirty minutes each time . . . completing the same checklists each time . . . and waiting, lots of waiting . . . anxious to hear the announcement to ‘secure’ from flight operations. One time at the spur of the moment during my approach to land on the ship--in the midst of a particularly boring mission--I announced via the secure computer link “Moms, dads, boys and girls, please don’t try this at home. Remember these are trained professionals.” Although I took every flight seriously, my interjection of humor at this time was my attempt to poke some fun at the drudgery of it all for the ship’s crew--at least with those in the small group having access to the secure communications network we used. The people in my aviation unit and those of the ship’s crew who worked with us on a daily basis joked about this for a couple of days.
Shortly thereafter, there was a day when no flights were planned. Instead, the ship was scheduled to conduct underway replenishment alongside a supply ship. Since this was an infrequent evolution, the captain decided that all officers who stood watch on his ship would practice driving our ship alongside the supply ship. Being the only aviator aboard his ship who was qualified to drive ships, the captain extended the honor to me of being the first officer to drive our ship alongside the supply ship. I felt honored but also a little nervous, since being at the head of the line meant that I would need to complete the volumes of checklists required for such major evolutions--thus incurring multiple opportunities to misstep. Also, my personal pride demanded that I set a standard in this ship driving drill that everyone else would strive to beat. My fears dissipated somewhat after I successfully completed the checklists to the captain’s nodding approval, and I began to concentrate on the maneuvers that would be required to close our combat vessel to within 60 feet of the lumbering supply ship.
All that remained prior to making my actual approach to the other ship was to make a standard announcement to the crew about the ship’s intentions--“we plan to pull alongside, conduct replenishment of stores and fuel, complete a number of training runs, etc.” However, as I reached for the microphone, the captain placed his hand over my shoulder to take hold of the transceiver, all the while smiling strangely . . . as if ‘forcing’ a smile. As I resumed a constant watch on the supply ship, giving commands for very small changes in course and speed in order to maneuver into position, my body momentarily became tense in horror as the captain began his announcement to the crew with “Moms, dads, boys and girls, please don’t try this at home. Remember these are trained professionals.”
The Consequences and an Analysis
The few of us on the bridge who knew ‘the joke’ weren’t sure how to respond at first. However, the captain didn’t laugh or slap any of us on the back to indicate he was sharing in our little humor. He merely continued to smile--again somewhat ‘forced’--and returned to his position beside me. Consequently, we felt that he wasn’t joining in ‘the joke’ with us but turning our humor against us--almost as if he was empowering himself at our expense. We continued to perform our functions if somewhat perfunctorily, all the while physically, mentally, and emotionally balancing the tangible tension as if trying to avoid the type of dizziness that results from standing up too fast from a seated position when feeling nauseous. Clouse (1997) notes that “Humor is a wonderful way to minimize differences, bond employees together, improve communications, break down barriers, relax everyone, create rapport, and boost morale” (p.1). However, from the perspective of our small clique of “in the know” officers and enlisted, we saw the captain’s actions in just the opposite light. We presumed he had acted deliberately, assigning me ahead of his own officers to conduct the exercise, waiting until then to reveal his knowledge of our joke rather than sooner--as if to exert control, seeking to evoke somber reflection rather than spontaneous laughter. Indeed, it was obvious to us that the captain purposely--in form and content--had inserted humor into this event in order to re-establish with us the social order on his ship . . . to reassert himself as the center of the power distribution (Dwyer, 1991).
However, the many more members of the crew who didn’t know ‘the joke’ (as the small group of insiders knew it) reacted very enthusiastically to the captain’s break from his pro forma rigid formality. His seeming surprise at the positive reaction from the rest of the crew confirmed with us ‘insiders’ that this response by the crew was an unintended benefit. This would appear to support Clouse’s (1997) assertion that “humor can be used in organizations based on a relationship timetable and composition of the group” (p. 4). Furthermore, the captain’s apparent deliberate manipulation of this humor would suggest that he viewed humor to be ‘just’ another management tool much like what is described by Malone (1980) as “to enhance the managerial process” (p. 357).
Closing Thoughts
Interestingly, Hatch (1993) describes paradox in context of the humor itself--that from “contradiction, incongruity and incoherence . . . humor and laughter are often generated” (p. 505). Ironically, the greatest paradox from this case study does not reveal itself within the context of the humor--at least not in the sense described by Hatch. Nor does the greatest paradox arise from the unintended benefits the captain evoked with his actions. Indeed, the greatest paradox emerges from the captain’s implementation of humor as a management tool. Most writers describe humor as a management tool in terms of purposefully evoking laughter in order to diffuse conflict and disputes. Indeed, Kets de Vries (1990) presents humor, as the critical medium actors should use to prevent organizational pathology developing from such destructive issues as control and rivalry. Therein lies the greatest paradox of this case study. The captain apparently viewed humor as a management tool to establish his superior position in his relationship with each of us in the small band of ‘insiders,’ thus exerting even tighter control and creating an even greater rivalry of sorts.
Guiding Questions
- Discuss the use of humor in situations where details are of the most importance?
- Discuss the use of humor between competitive groups in organizations?
- Can you relate to this type of humor?
References
Clouse, R.W. (1997). Intuitive humor: An entrepreneurship style – Paper presented at the International Meeting, The Academy of Entrepreneurs, Maui, Hawaii.
Dwyer, T. (1991). Humor, power, and change in organizations. Human Relations, 44(1), 1.
Hatch, M.J. & Sanford, B. (1993). Spontaneous humor as an indicator of paradox and ambiguity. Organizational Studies, 14(4), 505-526.
Kets de Vries, M.F.R. (1990). The organizational fool: Balancing a leader’s hubris. Human Relations, 43(8), 751-770.
Malone III, P.B. (1980). Humor: A double-edged tool for today’s managers? Academy of Management Review, 5(3), 357.
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