Let’s face it, science must be communicated—and communicated effectively. The criteria for effectiveness are an ever-evolving puzzle, and with the infamous rise of AI, these changes are getting a little out of hand. As science communication adapts to a rapidly changing media environment, humor may be one of the few tools that still sets human communicators apart. The question is, can the machines effectively mimic the human sense of humor while overall being quite successful at appropriating our voices?
I entered science communication ten years ago and had enough time to develop my own voice. Back then, we still had space to find our own unique and authentic writing style. Today, I fear that AI tools sneakily teach us to write differently, uniformly, while we try to prompt them to write like humans. As a journalist, I mostly wrote in-depth articles on space science and had a regular column on astrobiology, formats that not only allowed but practically demanded adding personality. In my case, that meant going to town using similes and mild sarcasm. Then, ever so smartly, I decided to take a “let’s-fight-the-burnout” break… right before AI launched its revolution in media and communication. Now that I’m back, I have to reflect on that voice of mine to see what works- especially since AI can now mimic authenticity and passion—my beloved Carl Sagan-esque style—annoyingly well, albeit extra cheesy.
So, much like a doomed protagonist in a horror movie who suddenly realizes something sinister is lurking in the dark of their attic, I opted for manic research, trying to figure out my next moves. One of my early hypotheses was that humor in science communication could be a very effective tool—especially today, given the changing media habits and the rise of the young’uns, Gen Z, as a core audience. As the first true digital natives, driven and vocal, they’re already shaping how we share, consume, and act towards information. Another hypothesis—or rather a meek hope—was that AI hasn’t quite figured out yet how to be genuinely funny, and that’s where we still get to shine.
The ups and downs of humor in science communication
First things first: there is no absolute consensus on whether humor does more good than harm in science communication, although recent studies seem to lean towards it being a positive force that drives engagement with science.
There is also no consistent data on its role in pushing audiences towards action. In science communication, especially in the medical or climate realms, the aim is often to facilitate more conscious behavior, raise awareness that leads to positive change, and actively fight misconceptions that pose real danger. Narrative formats that include humor, like infotainment, may boost engagement, but when it comes to changing attitudes toward science, expository narration still wins (see Ivory Embassy, “Science Infotainment or Expository Narration”). All in all, there is simply no universal recipe that tells us to add a pinch of irony to our article, a meme to our post, or a light-hearted joke to our video, and we’ll get the exact audience reaction our science-loving heart desires. Humor can help capture public attention, but it can also alienate some people by making them feel excluded, offended, or misunderstood. It all comes down to taking into account the specifics of our audience (their digital habits, demographics, cultural and even political background) and the characteristics of the platform where we choose to engage with them. Let’s see what insights communication science has for us as to what works best and what works worst.
Luckily for us, studies show that humor has a lot of power over us, as it significantly boosts memory encoding, enhances attention, and improves recall. fMRI scans reveal that humor activates the dopaminergic reward system, strengthening emotional engagement and memory. Humor can hijack attention, improve retention, and help correct misinformation. It also helps build community and identity by bringing people together and signaling who belongs. Humor often does this by surprising the audience with unexpected twists (incongruity) or by hinting that the speaker is a bit smarter than others or “in the know”.
People laugh to reduce anxiety and stress, and are consequently likely to laugh at topics that evoke feelings of guilt or discomfort, seeking to find enjoyment even in unpleasant situations. We also laugh to emphasize our accomplishments or superiority over others. Humor arises in situations that are perceived as both violating rules and non-threatening. Humor, therefore, is a multifaceted phenomenon that can be positive and benign (like puns or anthropomorphism) or edgier—or shall I say meaner (like sarcasm or satire).
It has been well established that different communicative goals can be accomplished through different types of humor. Puns (wordplay) and anthropomorphisms (attributing human-like features and behaviors to objects or animals) are core to science communication. I dare you to find a press release by, say, NASA that doesn’t feature either of these types of humor. Still, I already know it’s virtually impossible to find a scientific institution’s text stripped of them. In astronomy communication, distant and scary space suddenly becomes cozy and cute if you joke about it. For example, black holes seem threatening—they are famous for their ability to pull in matter such as gas, dust, and even light due to their extremely strong gravity. Instead of focusing on how deadly they are, we can playfully poke at them for their unusual “eating habits” and bad “table manners,” and it takes the edge off by amusing the reader and painting a less scary picture. Another example is calling a small recently formed planet orbiting another star, or extrasolar planet, a “baby exoplanet,” making it endearing, memorable, and maybe even chuckle-inducing (or is it just me?).
Naturally, the success of any type of humor largely depends on the platform. For example, according to one study, X (Twitter) and Instagram seemed to be dominated by satire and wordplay, while anthropomorphism was less common. Satire and puns increase engagement, while anthropomorphism, on the contrary, decreases the number of comments. In the case of X, the cause of the negative reaction to anthropomorphism could have been linked to the fact that the majority of users are adults who, on average, are more educated than the general public; therefore, such humor could have been deemed as childish.
Satirical projects like The Daily Show and The Onion help draw attention to controversial scientific topics. In some instances, they do so in a sneaky way, presenting scientific facts and opinions to an audience that has come to consume political and social content rather than scientific information. Satire means ridiculing well-known phenomena or figures. It varies from mild and humorous (Horatian, such as playful mockery) to sharp and sarcastic (Juvenalian, such as angry sarcasm), with the latter being prevalent in the studies of humor in communication.
Benign humor is more or less a safe bet; it helps build trust and keeps the audience’s attention in times of stress, making dry, scientific information more lively and understandable. There are nuances, of course. For example, although absurd yet benign humor, such as memes, resonates with Gen Z and Millennial audiences, it can confuse other audiences who don’t grasp the style. Aggressive humor, on the other hand, seems riskier as it can repel listeners, but it can also reach audiences that are less willing to indulge in science news.
Case: Climate change communication with a twist
Climate communication seems to be one of the tragic heroes of science communication. It suffers from fatigue, mistrust (for example, 27% of US adults have little or no trust in science in general), disinterest, and disengagement. The picture ain’t pretty, after all. It also has an urgency that, for instance, my beloved astronomy communication lacks, unless there’s suddenly an asteroid heading our way. That’s why I found it particularly interesting to focus on the case of using humor in climate communication; all is fair in the war against climate change.
The well-known go-to approach to communicating climate change is a fear-based one: rhetoric of threat, fear, and anxiety. And what we also know or feel is that it often leads to numbness and apathy. Humor in climate communication provides a slightly healthier alternative that is increasingly seen as a significant tool. Studies show that it invites attention, improves message involvement, learning, and belief in anthropogenic causes. While joking about serious matters may seem tone-deaf, one could use it as a metaphorical Trojan horse to get a point across to the general public.
Comedic formats, from satirical news stories to TV series, can critique climate skepticism more effectively than traditional journalism. The emotional impact of humorous content can increase risk perceptions and change opinions, although the results are not always explicit: humor stimulates action but doesn’t always increase threat perception or motivate the audience to learn. Online humor does not just attract attention but also sparks playful interaction, turning complex topics like climate into a reason to engage rather than disengage. Word games, or puns, dominate Twitter, and satire leads on Instagram. On Instagram, this spicy type of humor results in the greatest increase in audience engagement and response. It makes humor strategically advantageous for communicating with anxiety-weary audiences.
When it comes to the Trojan horse’s role that humor can play, it’s especially effective when writing to skeptical audiences. One study showed that aggressive humor in climate change videos, such as satire, especially influenced politically conservative audiences, increasing their belief in climate change. Although gentler and friendlier humor still works better to trigger action. In climate change communication, different forms of satire have varying effects. Aggressive communication persuades “thoughtful” viewers who watch climate news willingly, are engaged, and possibly well-versed in the broader context, while mild rhetoric persuades those who process information superficially, such as casual social media users who skim content brought to them by an algorithm that works in mysterious ways. Interestingly, ironic humor reduces the audience’s tendency to counterargue, since understanding irony demands extra cognitive effort, temporarily hindering critical thinking.
Knock-knock, who’s there?
Now let’s talk about audiences. Who are we talking to as science communicators today, and what kinds of humor do they prefer?
We can start by analyzing the preferences of the younger bunch, Gen Z, who reportedly have distinct preferences for humor. A survey by USC and Acceleration Community of Companies (ACC) highlights that Gen Z audiences respond most strongly to brands that use humor, with 41% of respondents stating they engage more with brands that use it. This generation also seems to prefer “edgy snarky” humor. Another study analyzing Gen Z’s interaction with humor across different media platforms found that dark and ironic comedy plays a key role in shaping their self-image and online authenticity. Additionally, findings by the digital publisher and social media influencer agency Screenshot Media reveal that 76% of Gen Z TikTok users actively seek out comedic content, implying that humor, particularly when served with irony, is their dominant mode of content consumption. Wit or post-irony may no longer be optional for communicators aiming to reach this cohort—it’s expected.
Meanwhile, outside the land of ironic TikToks and existential memes, humor walks a slower beat. Older audiences, bless their analog hearts, tend to prefer humor rooted in everyday situations and familiar routines, while Millennials, ever the nostalgic middle children of the internet, oscillate between dry wit and trauma jokes with vintage filters. For science communicators, this means one thing: the punchline isn’t one-size-fits-all. What gets Gen Z rolling their eyes in appreciation might leave Boomers wondering if you forgot the actual joke. Tailoring tone isn’t just polite; it’s damage control with comedic timing.
Finding the right tone
Humor is a powerful but tricky tool that must be tuned to the right audience. If the aim of the message is to build rapport and trust, affiliative, benign humor seems to be the best approach, while aggressive humor can do wonders with skeptics and conservatives. The side effect, though, is that it can repulse more sensitive members of the public. Irony and satire resonate strongly with Gen Z and Millennials, but for broader and more versatile audiences, more digestible jokes are a better option. Bottom line: The choice of humor style is linked both to the platform and to the social and demographic characteristics of the audience. Tastefully mixing multiple types of humor might be a reasonable and effective course of action.
As for the hope that AI can’t produce convincingly human-like humor, it’s still there, but it’s a weak one, and hardly worth clinging to. After all, the state of tech is evolving fast. ChatGPT may not be particularly hilarious today, but it can learn to be humorous tomorrow. So far, studies show that, although AI is not quite there yet, with some tweaking, it can evoke the necessary response in the audience. It has been noticed, though, that it resorts to propagating stereotypes while trying to crack jokes and can get a little awkward (read: cringy) while attempting to be humorous.
By the way, one paragraph of this post was written by AI. I asked it to imitate my style, use sarcasm and puns to get the message across, and after 3-4 attempts where it distorted the provided information with an impressive devotion, it wrote a short piece of text that I could both include in this post and use later for ruminations over my writing style – do I really sound like that? Can you guess which paragraph was written by AI? I fervently hope you can.
