Humour has long been studied through three main theories. Hobbes and Plato’s understanding of humour, now coined as The Superiority Theory, sees laughter as arising from one feeling above others’ mistakes or misfortunes. The Relief Theory, first explored by Lord Shaftesbury then refined by renowned father of psychoanalysis Sigmund Freud, views humour as a safe outlet for tension and repressed emotions, while Immanuel Kant and Arthur Schopenhauer’s Incongruity Theory suggests we laugh at surprising mismatches between expectation and reality. Together, these theories show how humour can entertain while also masking deeper issues; it can deflect discomfort, obscure empathy, or distract from serious realities. 

These philosophical frameworks set the stage for modern psychological studies, which investigate how specific types of humour actually affect our mental health. Building on decades of work linking humour and well-being, a 2023 study of nearly 700 Italian participants demonstrates that different comic styles have distinct psychological effects on individuals: benign humour — aimed at amusing others for pure entertainment — was associated with lower depression, anxiety, and stress, while irony and sarcasm predicted higher distress as they tend to carry much more emotional weight. 

These findings highlight that humour is far from one-dimensional, blending cognitive, emotional, and social functions. A witty remark might help someone reframe a stressful event, while a sarcastic jab may only deepen a sense of alienation in the relationship between the joker and the receiver, and in both their relationships to self. Seen this way, humour is not just relief, it’s a mirror of how we process challenges. Do we choose to connect and reframe, or to deflect and attack?

Humor as a physiological regulator does provide measurable benefits: laughing lowers cortisol levels and elevates dopamine, fostering a sense of relief. But just as painkillers dull symptoms without treating causes, humour can numb us to emotional wounds without helping them heal.

The psychology of humour becomes especially interesting when mapped onto culture. Consider the rise of self-deprecating humour online — tweets about being “permanently exhausted,” TikToks about depression disguised as punchlines. These jokes resonate because they capture shared experiences of struggle, offering a sense of connection and making individuals feel less alone. Yet, while this recognition can be comforting, it also risks normalizing avoidance. If we constantly joke about mental health, burnout, or loneliness, we acknowledge the problem without ever addressing it. Over time, this avoidance can deepen feelings of despair, strain relationships, and reinforce a sense of nihilism, leaving us laughing at our struggles instead of working through them. 

Comedians have long understood this tension. Richard Pryor, Hannah Gadsby, and Bo Burnham, among others, have mined their personal pain for material. Their work illustrates both sides of humour’s power: it can spark catharsis by bringing hidden struggles into the open, or it can shield performers and audiences alike from sitting with discomfort. Burnham’s 2021 special Inside encapsulates this comedic exploration of isolation that blurs the line between coping and confession; leaving viewers to wonder whether they should laugh, cry, or both. Personally, I lean towards seeing humour as useful in helping people get through tough situations, but I’m less convinced that self-deprecating comedy on its own is especially productive. At times, it risks turning pain into a kind of competition — an “oppression olympics” played out in joke form — rather than prompting us to think about how these struggles might actually be addressed. 

This is not just an individual problem but a social one. In conversation, humour can deflect vulnerability: a friend makes a joke when asked how they’re really doing, or colleagues laugh off chronic overwork instead of discussing burnout. On a larger scale, political satire often relieves tension while inadvertently discouraging action – if the joke is sharp enough, the outrage feels already expressed. The risk is clear: if we turn everything into a joke, nothing feels serious enough to merit change. Humour keeps us comfortable, but comfort is not the same as resolution.

Satire adds another layer — and not always a harmless one. In a remarkable role reversal that would have bewildered previous generations, comedians now often deliver political commentary that reaches wider audiences than traditional news outlets. Think of John Oliver or Hasan Minhaj: jesters who double as journalists. While their humour can make complex issues more digestible, it also risks trivializing serious matters. For instance, during a segment on robocalls, Oliver compared Senator Susan Collins to spoofing technology — claiming she masks her true political leanings leading to misrepresented opinions of her — but the audience responded not with reflection, but with boos. Reducing nuanced policy debates to punchlines may leave audiences laughing (or, in this case, jeering) without fully grappling with the stakes. Thus, fostering cynicism rather than informed engagement. When laughter replaces critical reflection, political jokes can numb concern, normalizing inaction and discouraging meaningful discourse.

None of this means we should stop making jokes. Humour is a vital human resource, one that connects us and helps us endure. Perhaps the challenge is balance; laughter can make heavy truths lighter, but it should not replace truth altogether. As cultural critic Susan Sontag once noted, “silence remains, inescapably, a form of speech.” The same might be said for laughter: every joke says something, but sometimes what it says is, “I don’t want to talk about it.” In an era where humour saturates our media and conversations, maybe the bravest move is knowing when to take off the mask. To laugh, yes, but also to pause, to sit and see beyond the laughter, and meet the realities we tend to avoid.

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Perhaps one of the most overlooked sectors of free press is that of student journalists and their often extremely censored relationship to university officials and their peers. Student journalism is now more crucial than ever as the demands for the sharing of news and opinion at the university level have risen over the past few years. However, this increased interest in student reporting is not met with proper press freedom and protection for student journalists seeking to provide platforms for news exchange at their universities. The hindrances faced by student-run publications are large in quantity and even more complex to eliminate when so many of these organizations are directly funded by the university. Universities often block stories or alter the editing of the content to boost their own image, which results in biased and partially censored information being released to the school community and the restriction of young journalists’ right to transfer information freely and without fear of repression. Data compiled from 2020 by the Student Press Law Center found that one of the most concerning trends for student journalism is the increasing number of cases of censorship by university officials for content due to its  “political nature.”

In the 21st century, educational institutions are becoming “more obsessed with ‘protecting the brand’ than they’ve ever been before, and journalism as an industry is weaker and less able to defend itself than ever before,” said Frank LoMonte, a lawyer and journalist that served for nearly a decade at the Student Press Law Center. What the collision of these two major indices results in, is increasing threats faced by student journalists and the clogged flow of information to the university community as students consuming this media are receiving altered and biased content. Free press in a student newspaper is an obligation to the truth without alteration or bias from any external sources. This principle in practice means that student journalism must remain an independent body of information, separate from the university whose namesake it may take. 

Similar incidents have happened on McGill campus. On March 5, 2012, the Daily Publications Society (DPS) – publishers of the Daily and Le Délit – received threats of legal action from the McGill lawyers in regard to the report of the Development and Alumni Relations documents that were leaked online. The intimidation tactic prevailed as DPS had to concede. In an article discussing the instance, editors wrote that “By threatening student-run media with legal action, this University has yet again used its financial power in order to control student voices on campus.” Student press freedom of expression has been an ongoing debate, and it is important for student journalists and authorities to have a clear and open conversation, and to work together.

Student journalists’ work also represents the local news in campus community. Local news plays a crucial part in communities and societies. They connect neighbourhoods with one another, promote local events, and share local issues, therefore making the community well informed and united. Their work will have a direct impact in shaping public opinion, while also holding authority accountable. Student journalism uplifts and validates young voices, connecting students with other students, the university, the local community, and the greater global one. 

The passing of Bill C-18 – more commonly known as the Online News Act – sought to support Canadian news organizations through providing increased compensation for the presence of their content on digital and social media platforms. However this bill was not met without discourse and opposition; the impacts of which are altering the landscape of free press in Canada. Media moguls Google and Meta began blocking Canadian news corporations on their social media platforms in response to a tenant of the bill which would enforce payments by those companies to Canadian media corporations. The impacts of this censorship by major technology companies were colossal, and exposed the extent to which technological companies have control over independent media. This censorship was denounced by SSMU and the Daily for the implications it would have on student journalism at McGill. 

Student journalists aiming to cover local news should be encouraged, as they do it out of love for the communities and societies of which themselves are a part. With the present uncertain environment of free press, it is important for institutions and publications to support student journalists in preserving a free press and working towards spreading the truth. It is only when the next generation of reporters are trained and able to produce quality work with those in positions of power respecting their right to a free press, that we can truly call this pillar of institutional strength “secure.”

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In March 2023, France began moving the unhoused population out of the capital ahead of its hosting the current Rugby World Cup and the upcoming summer Olympic Games. Prior to the displacement, Paris had been putting up a portion of its unhoused population in low-end hotels as part of its emergency housing plan. However, massive sporting events draw millions of spectators, and hotels are eager to hike up accommodation costs and book at capacity for the duration of the games. The French government – motivated by the economic tourism of hosting the Olympics – has asked other cities and regions around the country to take over the housing responsibilities for Paris’s unhoused population in preparation for these two major sporting events. 

The government is asking French officials to create “temporary regional accommodation facilities” for Paris’s unhoused population, yet it remains extremely unclear what these housing facilities will actually look like. Concerns regarding cleanliness, location, and capacity are being largely ignored by the government, which is instead choosing to focus on the financial advantages of the displacement. The regions to which the unhoused population are being relocated have also voiced concerns over not having sufficient empty housing for those facing forcible eviction from their temporary housing.

Those who support the removal argue that it is a step in the direction of finding permanent housing for Paris’s unhoused population. However, bouncing people from one temporary shelter to another does not constitute permanent housing. With the French government remaining vague in regard to the specific details of these new shelters, the unhoused population has been put in a precarious position. The grey area that comes with forcible evictions by such powerful institutions as the French government is enormous when promises are made to deliver housing alternatives but there is no higher governing body to determine whether those alternatives are safe and adequate replacements. 

Paris is not the first city willing to displace a portion of its population for the Olympics. Historically, displacement has always followed major sporting events, including the Olympics. Beijing in 2008 and Rio in 2016 employed the same methods to secure extra accommodation space that could be rented out for elevated prices during the games. 

The 2020 Tokyo Games are the most recent example of the direct harm that is caused by relocation and the loss that is currently threatening the livelihood of many Parisians. In the leadup to the games, the Tokyo Metropolitan Government conducted a “sudden and violent” raid on Meiji Park, forcing out dozens of unhoused people without providing an alternative housing plan. The events that took place in Meiji are strikingly similar to the struggles unhoused people are currently facing in Paris, with forcible evictions from their buildings and even removal from the city itself. This pattern of displacement that haunts Olympics host cities has become so common that it has even been given a name: the “Olympic Legacy”. 

Despite the need for additional accommodations during the Olympics, it remains the government of the host country’s duty to protect and serve its residents first and foremost, including the unhoused population. When governments begin backing marginalized communities into a corner, they violate the fundamental human right to housing that countries like France made a commitment to. It is easy for government officials, the media, and the public to sweep these rights infringements under the rug when doing so benefits major sporting events that are so widely publicized and celebrated. 

In addition to the negative impacts of government policies, a recent Airbnb deal with the International Olympics Committee has exacerbated the problems facing unhoused people during these major sporting events. In 2019, Airbnb signed a $500 million-dollar contract with the Olympics to promote housing and urban development for the games. This contract strengthened the international sporting community through its economic investment in the games, but it also increased the need for housing and fan accommodation. Looking forward to the 2028 Olympic Games, many Los Angeles residents find themselves in a similar position as Airbnb’s contract with the Olympics has resulted in rent spikes and eviction threats of residents living near the Olympic venues. 

In addition to the displacement of some of society’s most vulnerable members, the Olympic Games are also complicit in gentrification. Sporting events that are broadcast worldwide and that require host cities allow governments to use these competitions as  rationale for urbanization and the development of poorer areas. This gentrification occurs when host cities tear down poorer neighbourhoods to build infrastructure for the games, resulting in the removal of entire communities from the cities they were once  part of. Back in 2005, the UK Foreign Secretary Jack Straw famously called the 2012 London Olympics a “force for regeneration” as the city incorporated the development of many of East London’s poorer neighbourhoods into the Olympic planning phase. 

Paris is now using the same disguise of development to hide the gentrification that the neighbourhood of Saint-Denis is undergoing. Saint-Denis is set to house the Olympic Village and the primary Olympic infrastructure, which has resulted in the area becoming more expensive than residents can afford. It has also become increasingly frustrating for those who live in the area to see an Olympic pool and gymnasium being built when Paris has yet to implement more community pools and gymnasiums for the actual residents of the neighbourhood. An opposition group questioning Paris’s decision to host the 2024 Olympics has called the city “undemocratic” and “oppressive” for not calling a referendum and giving the citizens of Saint-Denis the chance to vote on such a threatening event. 

The debate over how to handle the housing needs of the Olympic games is a critical juncture in how governments treat their most vulnerable citizens and reveals the extent to which they value all parts of a city, including its less “desirable” neighbourhoods. Ignoring the costs to some of society’s most vulnerable members creates a slippery slope for further encroachment – whether intentional or passive – onto the standard of living that many have fought to prioritize on government agendas. Moreover, the gentrification that occurs with large-scale sporting events opens the door for a wider discussion of privilege and the costs of nationalism. There is, at present, no clear-cut solution that will satisfy all parties involved. Housing is a sensitive and extremely polarizing issue, but it is clear that Olympic host cities need to first fulfill their duties to residents before turning to sports and international affairs.  

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