Comedians Aren’t Going to Be This Generation’s Heroes

This year has included a lot of making and unmaking of comedy heroes. Jimmy Kimmel went from a guy that not very many Americans watched to the number one martyr of the Donald Trump regime. Then, he went back on the air and swiftly returned to being a guy that not very many Americans watched. Meanwhile, Stephen Colbert still maintains a bit of hero status after his show was suspiciously canceled by CBS and Paramount. 

Then there’s the Bill Burr of it all. For the last few years, Burr has really leaned into saying true things that erred on the side of progressive: Billionaires are the scum of the Earth, and poor people in this country are purposely being divided so those at the top can continue to accumulate massive amounts of wealth and power. But Burr fell pretty far from his noble pedestal when he agreed to perform at the Riyadh Comedy Festival. He fell even further when he went on a bizarre and impassioned defense of his decision on his own podcast and on Conan O’Brien’s. How could this man of the people be so Trumpian?

Men like Colbert, Burr and Kimmel are tempting to laud as our heroes because they’re always talking about what we care about. They’re always talking, full stop. They have big platforms and walk into rooms to standing ovations and that makes us feel like we can place some of our moral stock in them. Plus, any eloquent expression of empathy feels like a drug when the leader of the United States continues to perfect the mixture of “cruel and unintelligible.”

Even on a smaller scale, when a comedian calls out racist bullshit or shuts down transphobia on their podcast, it’s easy to celebrate them in a way that elevates the comedian into the role of brave truth teller. It’s catharsis when we hear these things, to feel like, finally, someone is speaking out against the nonstop flow of hatred and misinformation leaking out of every corner of the internet. 

And as Kimmel and Colbert have proven, there is real risk associated with standing up and speaking out against the president and the culture he’s cultivating. There are punishments, job losses, even threats from Trump’s most zealous followers. But the risk they face doesn’t make it any more appropriate to enlist these men (or any comedian) as our light in the darkness. 

They’re performers, a bold and even noble role in our society, but not one that we can hinge our hopes of change on. They’re here to make us laugh, to narrate the world we live in, to expose our weaker impulses through a deft combination of set-up and punchline. But if we expect comedians to be the arbiters of progress, the people whom we measure our own principles against, we’re going to be the joke.