Humour has become one of the most potent weapons in the populist politician’s playbook. Comedic populists like Donald Trump, Boris Johnson, Nigel Farage and Argentinian president Javier Milei use ridicule, absurdity and sarcasm not just to entertain, but to deflect criticism, confuse opponents and present themselves as relatable outsiders. Their tomfoolery and comedic stunts often dominate headlines and capture attention online.
These uses of humour have been widely discussed in this context. But one key function of populist humour still receives too little attention: its power to mobilise disaffected voters.
My own research has examined how humour functions as a means of speaking truth to power. But I now believe that comedy, long mobilised as a subversive tool, is being appropriated by populists as a strategy for building political loyalty.
Beyond softening rhetoric or mocking political opponents, humour helps politicians create emotional bonds, build group identity and energise voters who feel let down by traditional politics and politicians. It isn’t just comic relief – it’s a call to action.
The appeal of comedic populists is often invisible to their critics. Dislike and distaste can blind people to the way these figures connect with large audiences – especially disaffected voters. This blind spot prevents understanding how humour fuels political support.
Take this New York Times guest essay from August 2024, titled Trump is losing the humor war. While it concedes that “Donald Trump is funny”, it argues his humour had lost its edge. That assessment was premature.
Throughout the 2024 campaign, Trump remained humorous – from working in a McDonald’s drive-through, to driving around as a bin man at a rally to mock Joe Biden, he deployed several humorous stunts to amplify his message and entertain supporters.
These stunts gained widespread coverage and went viral on platforms like TikTok – where, according to Pew Research, nearly half of US users under 30 now follow political news. Humour, in this context, becomes both strategy and spectacle.
Trump recognises this. On one Joe Rogan podcast – viewed over 60 million times – Rogan praises Trump’s comedic instincts. Trump replies: “You need at least the attitude of a comedian when you’re doing this business”. Considering Trump and other comedic populists’ success in the previous decade, it’s hard to disagree.
Who is mobilised by humour?
Populist humour resonates most strongly with disaffected voters – people who feel ignored or betrayed by traditional politics – and research shows that disenfranchised voters often vote for radically different candidates. In an era of declining trust in political institutions in many western nations, it’s unsurprising that voters should turn to political alternatives who break the conventional mould.
Some of these figures were comedians before they were politicians. Others cultivated humorous personas over time. Many have successfully capitalised on this situation. The best known is Ukraine’s Volodymyr Zelenskyy a former comedian who once played a fictional president on Ukrainian TV.
Other former comedians who have gone on to win national or regional office include Guatemala’s Jimmy Morales, Slovenia’s Marjan Šarec, and Iceland’s Jón Gnarr. Italy’s Beppe Grillo, a stand-up comic, co-founded the Five Star Movement which went on to enter government, though Grillo himself never held elected office.
Boris Johnson, Donald Trump, and Javier Milei all cultivated entertaining personalities through TV appearances and a variety of stunts. A consistent pattern emerges: these leaders tend to rise in contexts of low political trust, where their humour grabs attention and appeals to disaffected voters.
But another trend is equally clear: the sustainability of support for comedic populism often diminishes once in office. The performative and oppositional strengths that fuel electoral success often translate poorly into the demands of serious governance.
Zelenskyy appears to be an exception, although recent legislation threatens his approval ratings. Nevertheless, he remains popular due to the Russian invasion, and his shift from comic performer to a serious leader of resolve and emotional authenticity.
Populist humour in the media
Populist humour thrives on public attention. Social media rewards wit over substance; jokes, memes and soundbites travel fast. In a media environment driven by anger, disinformation and tribalism, comedy is a perfect vehicle of delivery. Humour creates sharable content, frames opponents as humourless and signals in-group identity.
A striking example came during Trump’s 2024 presidential campaign when he claimed that Haitian migrants were eating pets in a town in Ohio. The statement, though baseless and inflammatory, went viral. Critics expressed outrage, supporters laughed, and Kamala Harris scoffed at the absurdity. Yet, the allegation provided an effective means of communicating anti-migrant, racist rhetoric across news outlets and social media platforms.
It even inspired a parody song called Eating the Cats ft. Donald Trump, by the South African musician The Kiffness, which has racked up millions of views across social media.
This is the paradox of populist humour: it doesn’t need to be factual, tasteful or substantive. It just needs to resonate with its intended audience and spread across media platforms.
If we want to understand modern populism, we need to take its humour seriously. It’s not a distraction from politics; it’s a vital tool in the populist toolkit. Humour builds community, projects authenticity and drives participation and feelings of inclusion. For disaffected voters, it offers something traditional politics often doesn’t: a reason to laugh, and a reason to listen.
Adam R. North does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
This article was originally published on The Conversation. Read the original article.
