If my pal Bluesey says he’s going - chances are, everyone’s going. He’s that kind of friend you may have too - the one who guarantees laughter whenever he turns up.
For some time, I’ve considered humour to be the highest achievement of humankind. Not an original thought, but one I firmly subscribe to. Humour requires a shift in perspective - to see the world differently. A good comedian takes what is assumed or predictable and twists it into something unexpected. The greats do it with breathtaking speed, precision timing, and the ability to weave threads that reconnect and surprise again. That, to me, is genius.
Yet there often seems to be a toll for this brilliance. Think of Billy Connolly, Robin Williams - great comedic minds who also wrestled with mental illness. Is it a consequence of their perspective, or a prerequisite? The same paradox shows up among Mensa-level intellects: great intelligence bearing its own kind of curse.
Two ideas have long shaped my own psychology. First, there is no evidence the universe is inherently serious. Second, with enough distance, almost anything can be seen as funny. These are potentially unsettling ideas - yet most of us, if we’re honest, see truth in them. (And if you don’t, talk to a therapist.) They invite us to question our assumptions, examine the weight we place on ourselves, and recognise how much of life is a construct.
Historically, this was the role of the court jester - the only one who could call out the obvious absurdity without losing their head. Who plays that role in your organisation? Who is brave enough to tell the boss when their idea is ill-considered? To point out behaviour others are too nervous to challenge?
In modern life, that responsibility often falls to comedians. Their role is vital - taking the proverbial piss is sometimes the healthiest act for both ego and state. A decade in Scotland taught me that. No shortage of comedians willing to puncture the pretentious; no shortage of mates to correct your lenses!
In leadership, one of the tools I return to is the Leadership Development Framework (LDF), which, like Spiral Dynamics, maps the stages of adult development. It frames how people understand and operate within systems - communities, organisations, even societies. Development is less about role or age - and more about how you think.
At the pre-conventional stages - Opportunist, Diplomat - behaviour is primarily shaped by rewards and punishments. In the conventional stages - Expert, Achiever - the focus shifts to societal norms and maintaining order. This is where most adults operate.
A smaller group evolves into post-conventional stages - Individualist, Strategist, Alchemist - where the individual is able to work with larger systems, integrating multiple perspectives. And on the rarest air of growth sits the Ironist, the archetypal enlightened being. Legend has it Buddha observed; “once enlightenment comes, all that’s left is laughter.”
If you’ve ever shared your best thinking only to have your sanity questioned - take heart. The LDF suggests anyone operating more than two stages below you will see your perspective as “weird.” History is full of ideas ridiculed before they were revered - Copernicus and Kepler among them. Genius often demands the patience to outlast ridicule.
Which brings me back to humour. We don’t talk nearly enough about humour as a leadership choice. The right line at the right moment can defuse tension, de-escalate conflict, and open a new path forward. But in our era of heightened sensitivities, humour has become a nervous enterprise. Perhaps we’re losing our ability to laugh at ourselves. To see the funny side. More therapy? Or maybe just more court jesters.
Personally, I measure my own success less in titles and outcomes - and more in laughter and smiles. They are my barometer for a fulfilling life. They remind me I’m surrounded by intelligent thought, evolving perspectives, and worldviews beyond my own. Social Comparison Theory (Festinger) suggests that talking with others expands our reference points for making sense of the world. I’d go one step further - humour is a cornerstone of that process. The ability to laugh at yourself is one of the strongest indicators of self-awareness, and of a healthy inner life.
Matt helps leaders and teams develop their mindset and resourcefulness so they can relate productively, communicate effectively, and navigate challenge, change and complexity with confidence.
Through coaching and training, he empowers leaders with better choices and more options for progress - building better leadership from the inside out.
Curious what that could look like for you or your organisation? Let’s talk.