TIME OFF OPENER
C
AN YOU HEAR THE BILL MAHER FANS CLAP-
ping? The Real Time host, whose new HBO
stand-up special #Adulting dropped in April, is
a self-identifi ed liberal who likes to complain
about political correctness. And he has made a career out
of what Seth Meyers has dubbed “clapter.” As described by
Tina Fey, way back in 2008, clapter happens “when you do
a political joke and people go, ‘Woo-hoo.’ ” Donald Glover
later explained that the clapping means: “‘So true, yes, so,
so true.’ But what you did isn’t funny; they’re just clapping
and laughing to be on the right side of history.”
Clapter comedy threatened to overtake stand-up dur-
ing the Trump era, as audiences weary of unintentional
black humor in the news turned to pop culture’s clear-eyed
court jesters just to feel sane. But recently, catalyzed by a
fi ery debate surrounding free speech, hate speech, and can-
cel culture, clapter has metastasized into something even
more corrosive—something that goes beyond the actual
substance of comedy’s much discussed woke wars. As in all
other corners of our polarized society, comedians have de-
faulted to binary ideas about right vs. wrong, our side vs.
their side, justice warrior vs. truth-teller. And that impacts
voices on all sides of these issues.
From provocateurs like Dave Chappelle to progres-
sives like Hannah Gadsby, comics are allowing the faceless
“haters” who criticize them on social media to consume
their work. As these confl icts escalate, the result is even
more attention for these stars. That isn’t just bad for pub-
lic discourse —it’s also bad for a mainstream comedy land-
scape that too rarely spotlights the many voices doing sub-
tler, gentler, weirder, or more experimental work.
In defending their ideas and their work, too many of
the most famous stand-ups have become smug, narcissis-
tic, self-righteous, petty. Maher epitomizes this exhaust-
ing phenomenon. As excruciating as some of his opin-
ions are (on R. Kelly: “The music didn’t rape anybody”),
what’s most unappealing is the manner in which he deliv-
ers them—as though he’s the only sane, smart person in the
world. The more public pushback he gets, the more sanc-
timonious he becomes. “We never stand up to the people
who wake up off ended and live on Twitter,” Maher com-
plains in the special, as though his Real Time monologues
weren’t engineered specifi cally to infl ame that crowd and
rally his own social media surrogates. This sort of senti-
ment is common among comedians of his cohort: rich, fa-
mous, middle-aged, liberal men with ride-or-die fandoms
who rail against cancel culture as a threat to their free
speech, despite the fact that said culture doesn’t even have
the power to prevent Louis CK from winning a Grammy a
few years after he admitted to sexual misconduct.
The vagueness of his targets separates him from some-
one like Dave Chappelle, who has become the most promi-
nent face of the free-speech-at-all-costs contingent. There’s
plenty to say—most of which has already been said—about
the transphobic streak in Chappelle’s comedy. In discuss-
ing his style more than his content, I don’t mean to mini-
mize discussions around his attacks on a vulnerable minor-
ity that right-wing lawmakers are currently attempting to
legislate out of existence. But Maher’s
righteousness reminded me of Chap-
pelle, diff erent though he may be.CHAPPELLE ISN’T ABOVE pandering
to audiences thirsty for provocation,
but he’s overall a more complicated
thinker. His tone veers between open-
hearted empathy and viciousness,
drawing attention to contradictions
in viewers’ own opinions on fraught
issues and leaving room for what is
often productive ambiguity around
what he actually believes. And when
he speaks on topics about which he’s
“not supposed to” have a take, there
is often reason to be glad he did. But
in last year’s The Closer, which Chap-
pelle frames as his response to the
LGBTQ community, the tactic back-
fi res. An emotional anecdote about
his friendship with the late trans co-
median Daphne Dorman is under-
mined by lazy stereotyping and faulty
logic that often positions queer or
trans identity and Black identity as
mutually exclusive. “Gay people are
minorities,” Chappelle says, “until
they need to be white again.”
What has stuck in Chappelle’s
craw, as he admits in the special, is△
Chappelle, top,
and Maher play
victim to the
woke masses CHAPPELLE: VIVIEN KILLILEA—GETTY IMAGES; MAHER: NICHOLAS HUNT—GETTY IMAGES; GADSBY: ROBERTO RICCIUTI—GETTY IMAGESTime Off is reported by Julia Zorthian