Humor
Why Our Sense of Humor Changes as We Become “Grown-Ups”
Viewing life from an adult’s perspective helps shape our laugh response.
Posted December 27, 2022 Reviewed by Vanessa Lancaster
Key points
- The Mutual Vulnerability Theory helps to explain why our laugh response often changes as we mature into adulthood.
- Adults tend to have greater responsibilities and awareness of how certain failings can impair their ability to reach their life goals.
- On the other hand, they also recognize some vulnerabilities, perhaps unique to their profession or life stage, they wouldn’t have previously.
The strength of any explanation for why we laugh lies, in large part, in its ability to account for the tremendous variability we see in its expression. Obviously, our sense of humor differs between individuals, between various societal groups, and between cultures as a whole. But it also changes on a personal level as we grow from infant to adult—the subject of my last four posts. For the final look at this particular theme, I again rely on the Mutual Vulnerability Theory of Laughter (MVT) to help uncover why, as adults, we often differ in what we find amusing compared to our younger selves.
Adult Laughter

According to the MVT, laughter is a means by which we express a feeling of mutual— that is, shared—vulnerability. And the way we interpret many traits and behaviors as being either something totally normal, potentially amusing vulnerabilities or more serious deficiencies changes as we transition to adulthood.
As adults, we’re more aware of our and others’ ability (or lack thereof) to acquire resources, maintain long-term intimate relationships, provide for children and grandchildren, and establish a broad circle of reciprocal social relationships. This is because, as grown-ups, we typically have greater experience pursuing, and therefore place greater importance on, each of these objectives. Decisions become more consequential, and, as such, there will be a corresponding reevaluation of what we perceive as being vulnerabilities versus deficiencies.
So, in some ways, an adult’s tendency to laugh at fewer of the things than those that amused them as children is understandable. Losing a job, for example, may not be viewed by older adolescents, who are early in their work life and without a spouse or children, as seriously as it would by an adult in the opposite circumstance.
A teenager can joke about it to their friends and family, viewing such a setback as a minor and temporary setback, whereas someone older, burdened with mortgage payments and college loan debt, might see it as a grave matter. The resulting loss of status could slow his or her advancement for years, strain relations with their spouse, and cause any children they might have to feel less secure.

On the other side of the ledger, in other contexts, adults have greater opportunities for humor and laughter than they would have earlier in life. Their understanding of vulnerability expands as they become more familiar with the complexities of the physical and social worlds in which they operate.
There is humor that requires intimate familiarity with, for example, the work of a lawyer, firefighter, doctor, rancher, social worker, or astronomer that would not be picked up on by individuals outside those specific professions, or at least in some comparable workplace environment. Such knowledge would generally be out of reach of most non-adults. They simply wouldn’t “get” the joke without the ability to recognize some thing or action as representing a shortcoming and pick up on how it might diminish someone’s overall status.
This would be true in other areas of life typically reserved for adulthood. The trials—and triumphs—associated with parenting, or dealing with in-laws, for instance, would also be difficult for most children to relate to.
Of course, there is tremendous variability within adulthood as well, for many other factors will influence the laugh response other than maturity—personality and mood being two. I’ll address these topics in upcoming posts. One change within adulthood, however, does seem to me to produce a predictable change in one’s view of vulnerability: the approach and entry into a post-reproductive stage of life.
Following the critical child-rearing years (and again with the birth of grandchildren), older adults may again begin to see things in a different light. Remember that vulnerability is always defined in the context of reaching some objective, the core biological objective being successful reproduction. Typically this means grandchildren, but it may also be the equivalent non-biological goal of giving something of ourselves to future generations via art, architecture, discovery, etc. As one reaches that period in life where further reproductive or creative contributions are less of a concern (whether for biological, cultural, or self-imposed reasons), the ways in which one views vulnerability will almost always change.

In some cases, if older adults see themselves as unsuccessful in attaining their chosen objectives, their views may be skewed toward feelings of deficiency. What others might consider normal or modest vulnerabilities, they might consider profound inadequacies.
Think about a man in his late fifties, single and without children, and with little or no lasting legacy. For him, the extra ten pounds around his midsection is perceived not as normal middle-age “settling” or a common vulnerability but rather as a deficiency, a trait that makes his remaining hope of finding a fertile mate much less likely. By comparison, for those who feel fulfilled, the tendencies might be reversed, with so-called deficiencies becoming vulnerabilities one can joke about and minor failings accepted as wholly inconsequential.
Even so, we might expect adults as an age class to have a somewhat lower frequency of laughter compared to children, and this should not be too surprising. Compared to most children, adults spend less time in play, experience fewer novel situations, and feel less insecure about their accomplishments and social status. Thankfully, a loss of laughter is not everyone’s fate. The marvelous exceptions are the vibrant, playful, inquisitive, and self-assured adults who persistently seek out new challenges, explore new roads, form new friendships, and live life to the fullest.
© John Charles Simon