Humour. Cynical humour. Dark humour. Celebratory humour. For some organisations in the voluntary sector, working with the most vulnerable beneficiaries and heart-breaking causes, it is the lifeline-in-common that keeps us going.
So why not give ourselves permission to use it more when communicating with audiences? In the face of cuts and general side-lining why can't we turn our frustration and conviction into turn-the-tables humour?
Barack Obama's correspondents' dinner Speech is a side-splitting case in point – real head-on stuff to an audience by no means united in its adoration of his presidency.
Facing a table full of Fox News critics – not to mention Donald Trump – Obama soared with a blend of self-deprecation, full-on attack and a whole load of cultural references everyone there had in common. He turned what could have been a defensive speech into a jubilant attack on his "birther" critics. He looked like he was having the time of his life and his audience lapped it up. Well, perhaps not Donald, so much.
Charities and the voluntary sector already have the moral high ground; it's ours, we earned it – but we don't always need to be quite so po-faced about it. Unleavened pathos can be alienating; make your audience feel guilty or helpless and they are more likely to switch off.
Make them smile and they are correspondingly more likely to psychologically lean forward, nod in recognition and buy in. And talk about it to others. Obama's speech went viral within the hour – why can't the voluntary sector strive more for water cooler moments like this?
In 2007, Greenpeace gave us a great example. Whales being hunted down is disheartening stuff, unlikely to raise a smile unless you're the owner of a high-end Tokyo sushi restaurant. So they launched a competition to name one of the migrating whales; a competition that was promptly hijacked by someone who found a way to multiply register the nomination Mr Splashy Pants thousands of times over. Which wasn't quite what they had in mind.
As Chris McShane, head of politics and business for Greenpeace at the time points out, circumventing subversion presents opportunities as well as challenges;
"It turned out to be a gift. Did we really want another 'Orca'? Mr Splashy Pants made the campaign funny, engaging and just puerile enough to capture the imagination of both current supporters and potential ones - largely the under sevens.
"Instead of getting uptight, Greenpeace embraced the suggestion. Our designer, Toby Cotton, even turned round a range of Mr Splashy merchandise. People that might have turned off at saving 'Moby Dick' got behind preserving Mr Splashy Pants with glee. Humour can engage where earnest debate fails."
And sometimes what works with your intended audience won't always get the go-ahead from regulators or even potential supporters – you may need to take a calculated risk.
The (literally) explosive "No pressure" ad by 10:10 aroused sufficient ire amongst climate change deniers and the more conventional that 10:10 pulled it within days. But not before it had been forwarded to thousands and posted on their Facebook pages. Whether it qualified as a success or a failure as a campaign ended up being very much in the eye of the beholder.
And, when it comes to the onward march of social media, why not consciously inject a bit of humour into your charity's blogs? The sector's very own Sir Robin Bogg illustrates how lampooning some of the public policies threatening it exposes weak thinking more effectively than any number of 600-page reports could do.
Some rules, however, are non-negotiable.
* Research your audience – references-in-common work; those in splendid isolation don't.
* Don't patronise your beneficiaries – use anecdotes that reflect them fondly.
* Attack is fine – but try doing it rhetorically – again, check out how Obama nailed that in his speech.
* Self-deprecation is a great stepping stone to satirising others.
* And – please Sir Robin – don't swear.
It's time we rediscovered the use of humour in the voluntary sector. Perhaps it's even a responsibility. Because we have to face the fact that, statistically, Mr Splashy Pants probably didn't make it. Don't let him have died in vain.
Sush Amar was speechwriter at the Charity Commission for 6 years before becoming Hilary Benn's speechwriter at Defra in 2009. She is now a freelance writer and communications adviser.
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