Anything for a giggle

If you’ve read my twitter feed, you might be wondering why a person who talks endlessly about biscuits and otherwise inconsequential matters felt the need to write a number of fairly serious pieces, reflecting on who he is and how he ended up doing what he does. Well, just as you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, you really shouldn’t expect twitter, or any social media for that matter, to give you the full picture. Nevertheless, bearing in mind the ability of some people to take things at face value and jump to conclusions, I wrote those pieces to redress the balance and provide a bit of context.

It might surprise you to learn that, despite virtual appearances, I am actually a fairly shy and introverted person. Over the years I’ve learned to mask it quite well, with the result that people often don’t believe me when I tell them. For me, humour is not just a way of creating common ground with others and unwinding at the end of the day. It’s also an important coping mechanism which helps with shyness, by easing awkwardness in unfamiliar social situations, and provides an antidote to the potential to be seen as anti-social and aloof that comes with being introverted. Humour is also a much healthier, and inexpensive, way of dealing with job-related stress if, like me, you’re not a functioning alcoholic and you value your septum.

Unfortunately, however, humour doesn’t always work too well when you’re a member of a profession for which taking yourself too seriously is an occupational hazard and, all too often, a qualification for the top job. In Carry On Don’t Lose Your Head, Citizen Bidet (played by Peter Butterworth) shows his contempt for the enemies of the French Revolution by uttering the words “Wretched aristos. Anything for a giggle!”. Although he is referring to the carefree aristocracy, whose frivolities led to them quite literally losing their heads, his words aren’t a million miles from those of a number of senior solicitors I’ve met over the years, who demonstrated a tendency to look down on my brand of humour in the workplace as somewhat trivial and inappropriate. Funnily enough, they rarely saw anything particularly unprofessional or inappropriate about the copious amounts of alcohol and/or visits to strip clubs that others used as stress relievers, often on the firm’s time.

One of my bosses once told me that I spent a lot of time talking to the secretaries; in other words, that it wasn’t appropriate for me to be seen laughing and joking with them. He confirmed that my actions hadn’t had a negative impact on my work. Nevertheless, he didn’t like me doing it. I’m still not sure which was the greater sin: being seen to be laughing and joking in the office, or treating a secretary as an equal. During a particularly stressful time at work a few years later, my office mate and I developed a habit of pretending to be Nick Rhodes from Duran Duran, sucking in our cheeks and pouting moodily at each other, whilst pretending that our computer keyboards were synthesisers. One day our boss walked in on us. He wasn’t remotely concerned that two of his associates were stressed and overworked to the point of laughing hysterically behind closed doors, but he didn’t like the idea that we were pretending to be pop stars during office hours. City law firms have changed a lot over the years and these days are much more relaxed places to work, but it’s still not a good idea to be out of step with your boss’s sense of humour (or lack thereof).

Work-related stress is now luckily a dim and distant memory for me, meaning that humour these days is less a question of hysterical desperation and more one of general amusement. That said, it still helps me to keep a lid on the shyness and introversion. Using humour in that context involves maintaining a delicate balance between being serious on the one hand without being thought of as aloof or anti-social, and being light-hearted on the other without being thought of as trivial and superficial. Unfortunately I don’t always get the balance right, especially when I’m feeling tired or a bit vulnerable. As a result, I have been known to exude what some describe politely as “Go forth and multiply” vibes in unfamiliar social situations or when I want to go home earlier than is considered polite or sociable. At other times, by contrast, I have been known to be the life and soul of the party. I love nothing more than to hang out with friends, yet have a bad reputation for avoiding large social gatherings and even backing out of them at the last minute.

Having told you that I use humour to mask shyness and introversion, the image that will probably spring to mind is that of a clown concealing sadness or depression, or an unhinged sociopath concealing malevolent intentions. You might even be wondering if I am bipolar. Believe me, I am none of these things. Introverts are not depressed, anti-social or humourless. I am pretty cheerful most of the time, value my friends and look forward to seeing them. I just need to be alone with my thoughts quite a lot of the time too, and more recently have felt the need to write them down.

The key to understanding the difference between introversion and extroversion is to think about them in terms of energy. Extroverts are energised by being around other people, whereas being alone drains them of energy. This explains their preference for being in other people’s company and why they tend to be thought of as outgoing and sociable. Introverts, on the other hand, are energised by being alone. Being around other people drains them of energy; the larger the group or occasion, the greater the expenditure. Introverts don’t dislike being in company, but large gatherings can be overwhelming and exhausting for them. As a result, the extent to which introverts are perceived as anti-social and aloof depends entirely on their ability and willingness to play the social game when the batteries start to run low. That’s the point when my mask tends to slip and you won’t like me very much. Luckily for you, I’ll generally have made a Cinderella-style exit in plenty of time to avoid that eventuality. Luckily for me, Prince Charming (aka the fella) is extremely patient and understanding. He’s also a bit of an introvert himself.

It’s important also to appreciate that there is a spectrum between the two extremes of introversion and extroversion, meaning that everyone demonstrates levels of both to a greater or lesser extent. Although I happen to sit quite a lot further towards the introverted end of the spectrum, I demonstrate elements of extroversion too. This probably explains why, rather counter-intuitively, I really enjoy the performance element of teaching and the public silliness and banter of twitter.

If you think I’m just ill-mannered and rude, feel free to give me a wide berth. You can’t say you weren’t warned. In my defence, though, my desire to avoid situations in which I won’t be good company is as much for your benefit as for mine, you can rest assured that if I’m in your company I will be good value, and I never outstay my welcome.

So the next time you’re tempted to do a Citizen Bidet and jump to conclusions about that joker at work, think again. There might be quite a lot more going on than you realise. As for me, I might share a love of brioche with Marie Antoinette, but believe me the similarity ends there.