Laugh with me

Continuing with the series "Amazing conversations with my kids that I would like to share with you" I bring you today an episode that happen yesterday as Karen and I were just about to have dinner. After having dinner on their own, we had sent the kids upstairs to brush their teeth and start getting ready to go to bed, while we chose some Christmas-y chick flick to try to kick-start the season mood. Less than three minutes into the movie, Jason came back down grinning like a fool with the cellphone in his hand and I immediately what that was about.

Earlier yesterday someone forwarded to one of my WhatsApp groups a link to the video of an (allegedly) famous chef preparing "the perfect cured ham baguette". The cook not only extolled the properties and benefits of olive oil beyond any credible measure, but he also poured preposterous amounts of it on the baguette: underneath, inside, on top of it, to the point that the dish was literally seeping oil all around. The preparation was indubitably messy, but certainly not funny. However, the comments of the viewers were simply hilarious. One said that "since I watched the video, the doors in the house have stopped squeaking", while another asked "Chef, do you always put baguette in your oil". Still another mentioned that it was "the best baguette I have ever drunk" while another advised to "eat it on a level place, because I started half-way up a mountain and I am now back at sea level". 

Photo: Servando Miramontes

There were so many of them and they were so funny, that Jason was actually rolling on the floor laughing. We also stopped eating and just laughed along, with each comment even more hilarious than the previous one, to the point where we all ended with cramped cheeks and pleasantly painful bellies. It was rewarding and comforting to see how much of our humor Jason actually shared, just as I mentioned a couple of days ago, But the truly interesting part came right after the laughs.

While we were all trying to catch our breath and recover from the strain that our muscles had suffered during those amusing moments of hilarious torture, Jason pointed out just how strange laughter was: just a rapid succession of brief coughs which bore no relation whatsoever with the ability of the respiratory system to perform its function. I cannot say that I had never thought about it, particularly since Hidden Brain, one of my favorite podcasts, ran an episode about the matter some months ago, but it was still very interesting that the question came from him.

Apparently, there is a certainly level of laughter, just above the threshold of a simple smile, which can is controllable, and in fact it is frequently used to show the affect or admiration that we feel for other people (think for instance of laughing at your boss' comments). However, the uncontrollable laughter that can render us helpless, seizing our muscles, our heart rate and even forcing us to stop breathing for some seconds is something completely different: its own primeval nature means that it is rooted much deeper into the vaults of our brain, probably next door from coughing, sneezing or gagging, and perhaps even in the same room as yawning, because their similarities are more than they seem at first sight.

It turns out that both laughing and yawning are social signals, contrary to other reflexes like coughing or sneezing which are indisputably oriented at ensuring that the airways stay free so that we can continue to breath. Yawning, which is not an intrinsically human action but is also shared by many other mammals, including dogs, signals our own relaxation to the rest of the group, indicating that they too can relax. The environment we are in is safe and there is no need for high level of alerts. In fact, the power of the yawn is so strong that sometimes picturing it in your mind or even just reading about it can trigger the response in you.

Laughter, on the the other, is an excited expression of comfort. The subject is not only at ease, but also having a great time. When this response happens in front of other people, other members of the community are pointed to the fact that the situation is amusing and entertaining and they are implicitly invited to join in.

It is hard to imagine how laughter would have appeared n the first place, but it seems evident that, to these days, populations that are able to share a laugh are more successful than those who do not (otherwise the trait would have disappeared). One aspect that is still not well understood is why, as mentioned in yet another episode of Hidden Brain, many humans simply stop laughing at around 23 years of age. It is hard to diagnose if the suppression of laughter is a recent development or if this has been the case for millennia, but it is certainly very curious. However, I am grateful that this is not a universal effect, and even at my 46 years of age I manage to laugh almost every single day. Do not miss your chance! Have a nice evening.