Breaking the laugh track

Barney Stinson, the 21st-century Casanova on the popular TV show “How I Met Your Mother,” grins and tells best friend Ted Mosby,

“I invest in women who — how can I put this delicately? — THEY FAT!” he says. “I give them the attention that they don’t get now, and when they get hot, who do they come to? The guy who gave them attention back when they weren’t!”

The response of the knee-jerk laugh escapes me easily, bursting like a bubble from my throat.

But almost immediately after it did, I questioned which part of that joke made me laugh.

It could have been the automatic lumping of women into the categories of “fat and ugly” and “skinny and hot,” or the antics of what I can only assume is an untreated
sociopath.The answer to this question grew far more convoluted in my head.

What quickly became apparent is we desperately need to change the way we engage with the media that is presented to us. We shouldn’t allow ourselves to enjoy consuming particular bits of entertainment despite their less-than-stellar implications.

We need to understand what we’re laughing at and why.

The use of laugh tracks places us in a passive role, deciding for us when and where we should laugh, and for how long.

Shows such as “The Big Bang Theory,” “How I Met Your Mother” and “Two and a Half Men” use laugh tracks, it has a homogenizing effect on their audiences, generating laughter where the average person laughs.

The problem with this strategy is that it alienates the viewer from empathizing with certain characters and forcibly aligns him or her with a certain viewpoint.

For example, as an audience of “The Big Bang Theory,” we are constantly reminded that we are intellectually grouped with Penny.We don’t understand the laughably quirky antics of “‘genius guys,” and we’re not supposed to if we don’t want to be laughed at.

This alignment of perspective is present with nearly every struggling group represented in media.

Women are constantly portrayed as shrewd nags or John Green-esque manic pixie dream girls.Minorities are racialized, fetishized and underrepresented, and LGBTQ characters are often stereotyped or ridiculed.

Even critically-acclaimed TV series such as “Doctor Who,” “The Office” and “Girls” accrue some blame.

To change this, we must turn a more critical eye and ear to the television we watch.
We can also choose to enjoy shows with more progressive atmospheres, such as “Homeland,” or “Orange is the New Black.” Similarly, writers of different races, creeds and backgrounds should be encouraged to apply to writing and media consolidation jobs.

Racial minorities tout a bafflingly low three percent of total media ownership, which seems to coincide with our inundation of the white, Western narrative.

Though unsatisfying and seemingly pointless, changing the way we think about the media we enjoy and how we enjoy it is ultimately rewarding.

It allows us to not only empathize with the individual struggles of others in their representation, but also to critically question the information and values that are being spoon-fed to us.

Laughing at Barney’s tumultuous adventures with women doesn’t make us bad people. Our failure to address the many societal implications they present does.

­— mcaranna@imail.iu.edu