If there exists an anchor that connects generations, surely it is the classic dad joke. Characterised by their pun-laden simplicity and eye-roll-inducing punchlines, these jokes have an unassuming charm that, when well-chosen and delivered, can elicit laughter from children, parents, and grandparents alike. Why did the man fall in the well? Because he can’t see well.
Beyond their silliness, dad jokes can hold a profound significance in family dynamics, fostering bonds that can withstand the tests of time. As conservatives, families should matter – they are under fierce attack from critical theorists and other loons on the Left. (Of course, a communist joke isn’t funny until everyone gets it).
At the heart of the dad joke is its accessibility. They often rely on puns or wordplay that are easy to grasp, making them suitable for all family members, even vegans. What do you call a bear with no teeth? A gummy bear.
For a child, hearing a father deliver a groan-worthy one-liner creates an opportunity for shared diversion: Maybe this is my beer talking, but I’m an alcoholic drink made from yeast-fermented malt flavoured with hops.
The simplicity of a good Dad joke means that even the oldest family members can grasp the humour, allowing for a collective chuckle that transcends age. In the presence of the deaf, farting grandma: Why do farts smell? So deaf people can appreciate them as well.
Dad jokes serve as cultural touchstones, helping to forge a shared identity within families. Each household often cultivates its own repertoire of favourite jokes that are passed down, evolving and adapting as the family grows and topics change. For my daughter, revising Physics GCSE: I’m reading a book on anti-gravity. It’s impossible to put down.
The cyclical nature of humour not only reinforces familial bonds but also creates a sense of continuity between generations. I told the home help that she was drawing her eyebrows too high. She looked surprised.
These jokes become part of a family’s narrative, cherished and recalled during gatherings where laughter echoes throughout the home. Laughter triggers the release of endorphins, fostering feelings of happiness and reducing stress, especially useful when there are hormonal teenagers in the house. Dad jokes uplift spirits, particularly at mealtimes. Watching a grouchy child unable to keep a straight face is truly a joy to behold. Why did I name my pet newt, Tiny? Because he was my newt.
The key underlying message that Dad jokes convey – family matters. Through these simple moments of humour, ties are strengthened and traditions are born. They remind us that laughter is not only a universal language, but also a bridge (rather than stairs) across generational divides. (I don’t trust stairs because they’re always up to something).
Often, it’s the simplest forms of comedy which can weave the most intricate bonds. The worst pub I’ve ever been to was called The Fiddle. It really was a vile Inn.
Dominic Wightman is the Editor of Country Squire Magazine and the author of Dear Townies and Arcadia among other books.
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Ever the contrarian, I have to say I never find ‘Dad Jokes’ funny and have always been of the opinion that Family is greatly overstated as a binding societal factor (you can’t choose them and sometimes you’re lumbered). Sorry, as they say ‘I’ll get my coat’.
Fair point. I have a certain sympathy with that view – some families, but not others, can be very supportive, but there can be drawbacks, especially if one is the ‘outsider’ to a large one (I speak from experience!). “You can choose your friends, but not your family”, etc.
Plus there comes a point, whether it’s 16, 18, or the traditional 21, when individuals become (theoretically) adults and should have developed the maturity to not need (or worse still rely on or to expect) family support particularly as in ‘The Bank of Mum & Dad’ or ‘my inheritance’. Family is overrated, yet traditional conservatives are obsessed with its value and see all others attacking this often illusory pillar of stability.
The sort of humour that bubbles along in families is anathema to humourless totalitarians because it does create connections external ( and far superior) to the statist overlords populating many a western government. The independence of spirit, the resilience of the family, resides in humour and the connections it engenders. Humour uplifts, boosts morale……but how the Establishment likes to control the parameters of humour, bringing its ‘happy shoots’ to heel. It does that where it can, i.e, when humour has a stage.
The Article by Mr Wightman is more than just ‘dad jokes’…..a good one to read.
Sounds like somebody has had access to Tim Vine’s book of jokes! Usually too groanworthy, but I laughed at the ‘newt’ joke and ‘the stairs’. As for families, great if you have a good one, but a life of misery and hell if you don’t. For some reason I was always profoundly thankful that my father was not a drinker.
Thanks, I was struggling to remember the name Tim Vine as a leading proponent of ‘Dad Jokes’, I always found his brand of humour purile and his style and delivery rather cringeworthy, but there again I also failed to find any of Ken Dodd’s jokes funny or to understand why he was apparently revered by other comedians. BTW, I am not a killjoy and do find some things funny, but never in large doses on the stand up comedy circuit.