Not surprisingly many people are deeply shocked by the explosive rape accusations aimed at iconic comedian Bill Cosby. It's hard to know what to make of them at this stage because they haven't been tested in court yet. That may happen in time. 

Of course they could all be false as his defenders claim -- a massive, nasty conspiracy to tear him down. But there's a very good chance that they're true. It's highly unlikely that there'd be so many independent sources making very similar accusations over many years. And if he is guilty of these crimes, this obviously says a lot about him and a few things about comedy as well -- not least how comedians are perceived as opposed to other performing artists. 

To be specific, there seem to be different standards applying to comics than for actors. If an actor is accused of some heinous crime, it doesn't seem quite as shocking somehow. Take the case of Stephen Collins, who played the good-hearted dad in Seventh Heaven. Of course people are shocked that he may well have abused young girls, since he played such an affable and upstanding character -- and a minister no less. But there seems to be less consternation about it than with Cosby. 

I think most people read about Collins and think, "Gee, that's ironic ... But he is just an actor, playing a role." But all these claims about Bill Cosby drugging and raping women? They're more jarring in my opinion. 

The scandal is a lot like what happened with Rolf Harris. The first reaction you have is like: But he seemed like such a nice guy ... So affable, likeable, gentle. How could he have done that?

This has a lot to do with the fact that a comedian's stage persona is seen to be very closely alligned to his real nature. Actors just play roles written for them by other people. But standup comics often write all their own material, and it's very personal stuff. 

When Bill Cosby got up on stage he didn't give himself a fictional name. He was saying this is me -- to a large degree. Sure, he was exaggerating what he'd experienced and observed for comic effect. And the audience always knew this. But they were also led to believe that his comic persona was like a distilled version of the man himself. 

In his hugely popular sitcom of the eighties, he didn't go by his own name. His character was called Cliff Huxtable. But the persona he used was the one he'd honed on stage over many years. It was the family man; the bemused observer of children's behaviour, etc. 

A lot of comedians use this approach. And they're not always trying to be present themselves in such a traditionally positive light. But even if they have dark, twisted stage characters they're still using them to get affection and attention in most cases. (If they are like this, they risk the opposite reaction. They could well end up disappointing fans by turning out to be comparatively normal and functional in their personal lives!) 

But when you present yourself as an everyman, a good man? Well, you'd better be very careful about what you get up to in your private life. And it appears that Cosby didn't do that at all. 

For people who are interested in performing and ultimately succeeding in comedy, there are many good books and courses -- both online and off -- that you can benefit from. (Check the ones listed in the right hand panel of this blog, for example.) There are also countless articles freely available on the internet. This one by Paul Merton is typical of them. They include advice on how to get your first laugh, find your style, develop material, etc. Such information from industry insiders is very useful of course.

But success in comedy is not just about being funny on stage, and doing that consistently. It's about getting known by and making connections with the right people. The old saying "it's not what you know, it's who you know" is crucial here, just as it is in pretty much any industry. 

You can also easily find many resources to help you with this aspect of achieving success. These include guides on networking, goal setting, branding and all the rest. Sure, not that many are tailored specifically to the comedy industry. But they are around. And there are many such guides for actors and musos that can be beneficial here.

Then there's a third element. And it's just as powerful as the aforementioned. But I don't think there's ever been a guide written about it, and you'll hardly ever even hear it said -- even by your peers in the comedy scene. 

It's extremely powerful and pervasive nonetheless. Basically it relates to the culture of the comedy crowd you're in. You absolutely have to fit in with this "dominant paradigm". If you don't, you are almost sure to fail to realize your goals, or to only reach the bottom rungs of the industry at best.

Of course each individual comedy scene will have its own qualities, rituals and requirements. But there's one thing that will almost always be present. And that's the general political feel of it. Odds are that no matter what city you're in, left-wing or liberal ideology will dominate.

This will have ramifications for what you do both on and off stage. Obviously, if you do politically themed material, you 'll find it a whole lot easier if you do more politically correct stuff. The comedy audience, much like the performers themselves, will just feel more comfortable with this. You can be a bit risque from time to time, but only if you make it clear that on most issues -- particularly frequently talked about ones like global warming and gay marriage -- you still lean more to the left than the right.

You can also do completely apolitical stuff. Actually, that's probably the best approach if you want mainstream success. It will have the widest appeal, after all. 

But if you are overtly right-leaning or conservative, then watch out! Not only will the audience feel uncomfortable with this choice, your peers will be less welcoming. Some will be openly hostile. But most won't tell you why they don't see you as one of them. Nonetheless, you'll get to know this after a while. 

Certainly there are exceptions to this rule. I'm sure that in a populous nation like the USA there are some places where it doesn't apply. It may even be reversed. But these definitely constitute the exception that proves the rule. 

In an interview with Tim Minchin about his latest project, he says that "Comedy is for nerdy guys who don't have the guts for confrontation". This observation struck me as insightful. I think there's some truth to it. But it runs counter to a widely held belief about the emotional characteristics of comics that is also valid. That is that the form actually requires a lot of courage. 

Not that this is an outright contradiction. Like so many aspects of comedy in particular (and art forms in general) there's a paradox at work here. Comedians are the most courageous cowards there are!

Sure, they're not into "shirt-fronting" their foes. But they've got the cohones to get up in front of scores of people they don't know and risk excruciating humiliation in an effort to make them laugh for an extended period of time. And unlike most other kinds of performers, they always do it alone, usually armed with nothing but their routines. So that's one form of courage, certainly. 

But back to cowardice: There's the kind that Minchin alluded to. And there's another kind that I think a lot of satirical comics are guilty of. That is when a comedian heaps scorn and derision on some individual, political party, business or organization. He's not just being silly and mischievous. He's using vicious mockery to make a serious point. Sometimes this kind of satire attracts serious condemnation, occasionally even legal action. If it does, the comic often says: "Hey, lay off. I was only joking."

So, in a way he is hiding behind the form. He's trying to have it both ways. This is a bit of a cop out, because in not standing by and really owning what he implied in his rants, he actually negates the power of them. 

This is why I think comics who decide to opine on current events have a credibility problem. Take Russell Brand. He seems to be confused about what he's actually trying to do. Is he holding forth on current events just "for shits and giggles"? Or is he really trying to say something profound.

Well, if it is the latter, it's not clear to me. And if he really believes what he says I couldn't take him seriously anyway. His opinions lean towards the conspiracy obsessed lunar Left, after all. 

One comedian who seems to have successfully traversed that gap between satire and serious commentary is Bill Maher. Lately, for example, he's been taking a very serious and principled stand on the issue of Islam and the threat it presents to liberal values. 

Another example of a joker saying something serious and standing by it: Renowned Aussie satirist Barry Humphries, who has spoken up in defence of an academic being publicly vilified as racist after his private e-mails were hacked -- e-mails the academic claims were satirical in nature. 

In my opinion, both of these men are exceptions that prove the rule. When it comes to intellectual courage, serious minded columnists right across the political spectrum beat comedic and satirical entertainers hands down.

Not surprisingly, these pundits are often popular targets for comedians. And if you were to ask these funny men why they mock them so mercilessly, most would no doubt cite their backward or reactionary views as the main reason. But I think there's often an element of envy in there as well. Comics would like to be taken seriously. But they don't have the nerve for that. So they want to tear down those who do.

Speaking of nerve: Politicians themselves are actually even more courageous than comics and pundits, in my opinion. They seriously express and stand by their ideas, and campaign for election on them as well. In these brutal, relentless contests their privacy is often invaded and they endure countless vicious verbal assaults -- sometimes even physical ones! At the very least elections are gruelling, cruel and exhausting. So competing in them is courageous by any measure, in my opinion. 

Earlier I wrote about how standup comedy fulfils a social need for stress relief. In this way, comics often have more than a little in common with sex workers. 

Interestingly, former porn star turned comedienne Alia Janine has said as much in an insightful article for Laughspin. In it she lists five aspects that make the two professions similar, one of them being that they both attract people with "issues". 

Then there’s the personal demons that stem from our childhood experiences like alcohol and drug abuse, depression, overactive sex drives, abusive tendencies, and on and on. We all have issues, and we all have skeletons in our closet. How we deal with those issues is part of what makes us who we are. Comics and pornstars tend to have very similar childhoods, but comics choose to use comedy to express themselves and pornstars choose sex. Neither is the right or wrong way; it’s just how that person is wired. And then there’s also many comics and pornstars that have had “normal” childhoods, but still chose their professions. The two groups just tend to click; they get each other.

I think there's a lot of truth to these observations ... She also makes the valid point that both genres are low on the entertainment food chain. It's almost guaranteed that you're never going to become movie star rich in either of them. 

Related to this aspect is how they are perceived by people generally. They are seen as second rate genres in their respective spheres. Comedy, by definition, isn't to be taken seriously -- unlike drama. So a brilliant standup comic will never achieve much respect as an artist unless he branches out into acting and delivers an emotionally deep and complex performance in a well known film or theatre production. 

Needless to say, porn actors are laughed at and looked down on. They are seen as the gold standard for excruciating incompetence in this craft.

There's one other similarity that comes to mind. That is that they are both one dimensional genres compared to other forms of entertainment. Standup is all about getting laughs. Everything is subordinate to that goal. And with porn it's about pretty much nothing other than giving the viewer an orgasm. 

The profession of standup comedy is associated with several enduring and powerful stereotypes. For example, comics are widely seen as depressed and prone to drug and alcohol addiction. Another, more positive one, relates to wisdom. They are often reputed to be thoughtful, philosophical types who have deep insights into life the universe and everything.

This is related to a wider myth about artists, writers in particular. Standups are "wordsmiths" too, and they often portray themselves as bemused observers of the human condition. As a result, many people want to see their one-liners as not just true and funny but profound as well.

Then there's the link between absurdity and humor. It's often made in spiritual teachings like Buddhism. Such doctrines say it's a sign of maturity and wisdom to accept that life is absurd.

The Dalai Lama himself is seen as something of a comedian. This is not so much because he makes others laugh (although I'm sure he does from time to time). It's more because he's often seen laughing himself; laughing mostly at the absurdity of life. And if anyone has a right to be known as unquestionably wise, it's the Dalia Lama, right?

Sure, the guy has learned a lot. And he has much to say that we can all benefit from. But it should also be remembered that he's a politician. Much of what he says and does is focused on practical goals for himself and his people. As a result his wisdom is not completely selfless and pure. And if it' contains these earthly motivations, it must be a little diluted, surely. 

But back to comedians: I think this belief that they are wise is not unlike the same characterization of old people. Certainly some codgers are wise. But let's face it, a lot of them are just bitter and regretful!

I've known a lot of comics and I don't think they're any wiser than the general population. Pretty much everyone learns from life, but most people just don't have the desire to get up and tell people about it -- least of all through the medium of jokes.

I think it's useful to see comics as artists more than thinkers. And art has value because it holds the mirror up to nature. Comics, unlike other artists, hold up a fun-house mirror. There's definitely something valuable in the whole process. It gives great pleasure and enjoyment to the audience apart from anything else. And that's great. It's a mistake to see it as profound. 

This image of comics as great, deep thinkers is best illustrated by the way people revere Bill Hicks. He was certainly a great comic. Very funny, unique, amazingly confident and accomplished and at such a young age. But I wouldn't say he had any great wisdom. 

He was a seeker of wisdom, sure. For example, he used to take magic mushrooms in search of higher consciousness. And no doubt many people see this quest of his as qualifying him for this role of "philosopher king". But really I think that anyone who thinks they'll find wisdom through drugs is misguided -- even foolish. 

The fact that he died so young has added to his mythical status. Like with so many other figures such as JFK, James Dean, we can retrospectively attribute qualities that we don't have to test with reality. So we can see him as wiser than he actually was. 

Comics obviously have various motivations for getting up on stage and making people laugh. But surely a common one is to feel liked, or even loved, by the audience.

This need is clearly more extreme in some performers than others. Some try to be all things to all people so as to get that feeling of affection. This is why they will avoid overt or even subtextual political content in their material. They know that this has the potential to divide the audience. So they go for universal, observational "truth comedy" instead. 

Others are a bit more edgy. They crave something ambivalent. They quite like the sound of nervous laughter. And they'll do jokes about taboo subjects in order to get it. 

But one thing's for sure: No comedian ever seeks widespread hatred -- or indifference for that matter. They do crave affection to some degree, even if it's from a certain demographic (pretty young women, for example!). 

In any case it just isn't comedy unless you're getting laughs. And to engineer them you have to have the audience's relaxed attention, and some kind of identification with you. They have to warm to you at least a little for the whole process to work. If they don't, they'll look away and talk among themselves. If that happens you'll "die". So general likability is almost a basic requirement. 

It's not unlike being a salesman. While it's always desirable to have a good product to sell, in the end people are much more likely to buy things from those they like. 

So there are several reasons why the drive to be liked is huge in so many comics. And it does point to a psychological flaw, or weakness.

When I see this strong craving for affection I think: aren't your friends enough? Why want more of that attention? Anyway, the affection that comes with laughter is not really meaningful. It's like fame, another thing comics crave. It's so strange to want that admiration from so many people you'll never meet or even get close to you if you do. And if you do get close to them, odds are your fame will get in the way of a healthy relationship.

So that desire to be liked can be pathological, although it's not in most comics. Many of them keep it in check, even though that's what's driving them to some degree. 

But for some it's highly destructive. This was the case with Robin Williams, I believe. Of course he had other issues such as drug and alcohol abuse. But he was always trying way too hard to be liked, too! And I think that inner need had something to do with his suicide. It was like there was a hole in his heart that he really needed to fill. But no matter how hard he tried he just couldn't do that. 

I think this element of needing to be liked is one of the reasons many people tend to grow out of comedy. After a while you realize that you can't charm everyone. Some people are gonna hate your guts no matter what you do or say! You can't please everyone, so you just gotta please yourself, as the song goes ... 

I feel that's what has happened with me. Being liked was quite a drive in the past. But as I've gotten older I've realized that it's not important in the grand scheme of things. Much better to learn to accept yourself, and just have a few friends whose affection is real and enduring.

Now I'm no longer seeking that ephemeral public affection, I don't need to get up and get laughs like I used to. Sure, I would like to perform again. It's a helluva buzz apart from anything else. But the allure of it is nowhere near as strong as it was, say, 15 years ago. 

This aspect of standup comedy is another reason why it is mostly a young man's game. It's nerve-racking and risky, and thereby suited to gung-ho types. It's also motivated to some degree by what could be described as emotional immaturity.

One phenomenon that is extremely common in comedy circles all across the western world is for writers and performers of political satire to see themselves as brave and rebellious. Many of them truly believe that they are "speaking truth to power" with their jokes and jibes, and that they are often risking some sort of severe punishment by the state as a result.

In the vast majority of cases these beliefs are completely unfounded. This is because the claims of sexism, racism, greed, corruption and other vices made by the satirist are usually only believed by his audience. And even if this does amount to a large number of people, it's never large enough to have some demonstrable political influence. So in democracies like Australia satire almost never lands a punch on its target. Even if it does, citizens have too many rights in their favor for a politician to seek vengeance on him. He just wouldn't dare. 

This is not the case in a lot of other countries, however. In places where tyranny and corruption are widespread, those mocking the powerful are taking huge risks. Take the Iraqi comedians who are poking fun at Islamic State in the show State of Myths, for example. Sure, IS are not presently ruling the city in which the show is produced. But they are certainly aiming to. And they could well achieve this aim if not decisively beaten, and soon. In any case, the show is being broadcast in areas held by the barbaric fanatics. 

Considering the Islamists' reputation for extreme acts of brutality, being involved in any way in this production -- and particularly in a visible role as an IS character -- is courageous indeed. I doubt very much that any of the western comics who think of themselves as courageous would attempt anything so daring if they found themselves in a similar situation. 

As I get older, I look back on my years of performing comedy and see them from an increasingly detached perspective. Now that I'm over fifty, and a lot less gung ho than I used to be, it's clearer than ever to me that aspiring to be a professional funny person is a very unusual thing to want to do. There's hardly any money in it, apart from anything else. So more and more these days I keep looking at comedy and thinking, what's the purpose of all this? 

Well, it does have purpose -- dare I say it, a serious one. Making people laugh is a worthwhile thing to do, even if it does look frivolous. Imagine if no one was allowed to laugh about stuff. What a miserable life it would be.

Laughter is a release mechanism. It relaxes people. It makes them feel that things aren't so bad. Laughing along with scores of other people at, say, a standup comedy venue, can also give people a powerful sense of belonging. So it has a valuable social cohesion function.  

It can also bolster a collective sense of morality. Much in the same way that we like to know that the bad guy gets thrown in jail, we also like to laugh when the mighty fall. Take the Donald Sterling case. Everyone was laughing at that when it was in the headlines ... 

I've been thinking about other services that people provide to compare with comedy. And one that seems to have some notable similarities is sex work (no, I'm not joking). 

A laugh is like a little orgasm, after all. It's a pleasure hit for the audience member. And a bigger one for the comic. Plus he or she gets paid -- well, hopefully! In both comedy and sex work, the performers are often not rewarded financially. 

And I do think there's more exploitation that occurs in comedy venues than in any red light district. This is because a lot of funny buggers really need the laughs. They'll perform for free so they can get them! And a lot of them have contradictory confidence issues. They can be bold enough to get up in front of an audience and bare their souls for yucks. But they're often too timid to ask for a raise, or even payment in the first place. Odd. 

Obviously, if you're performing for laughs you're not selling your body, or even selling your soul. But you are doing something that's quite scary and stressful. You're certainly "out there" and crossing a lot of boundaries. And while you may not be physically naked and exposed, in an emotional sense you are! 

There's also a kind of intimacy that comics develop with their audience. This might not be the case so much with political or satirical comics or commentators. But it is often the case with stand up comedians who do self-deprecating stuff, particularly about their own lives. And there are a lot of those.

Clearly the audience appreciates it -- as long as it doesn't get desperate and creepy of course. Fans do kind of fall in love with comics -- not just in spite of their faults and frailties but because of them.

And a lot of comics do crave this weird kind of love. So, it's no surprise that psychological issues are common in the profession. Many of them are degrading themselves publicly in search of affection. That can't be healthy. And there's no denying that a lot of hookers are drawn to that world because they are damaged souls in search of love and intimacy.