Chronically online, chronically ironic?

World events, Gen-Z and internet humour as a coping strategy

November 2024: Olaf Scholz dismisses Christian Lindner from his position as Finance Minister on camera. Whilst Tagesschau, SZ, FAZ and other established media report factually on the coalition collapse, something different is happening on TikTok and Instagram: "Too often he has engaged in petty party-political tactics, too often he has broken my trust," you hear Scholz say, before "You're losing me" by Taylor Swift kicks in. Germany's political crisis becomes a break-up edit, with the subtitle "Germany's government is in its divorce era," and in the comments it says: "Olaf didn't deserve you…".

For other generations this may seem strange, but for many from Gen-Z it is quite normal: the irony of everyday events has long since become a coping strategy and meme culture is something like a public, collectively maintained diary.

Humour as a coping strategy

Gen-Z humour is a mix of self-irony, absurdity and meta-references. World events are no longer processed only in articles or talk shows, but also with edits, memes and sounds. Whether it's a robbery at the Louvre or the CEO who cheated on his wife at a Coldplay concert – the internet reacts in a flash, and events are creatively and entertainingly processed. This may seem silly at first, but it is often meant seriously: humour becomes a means of coping with a world characterised by crises and overwhelming headlines. In doing so, it allows one to view current events and serious topics with distance, and not to look away.

You get me? Chronically-online as a sense of community

Since the Corona pandemic, the popularity of platforms like TikTok has increased significantly, and by now it feels like the living room of an entire generation. Not only do trends emerge here, but also social codes and a shared vocabulary that creates a sense of belonging. When someone says "You get me?" and friends automatically respond with "I get it," a feeling of connection emerges. Chronically-online humour (a kind of constant presence in digital spaces) shapes the everyday life and communication of an entire generation. Memes document experiences, scandals and moods. TikTok sounds and slang are like their own language, which creates a sense of belonging but also draws boundaries: whoever gets it belongs.

Humour as a (political) tool

Older generations and politicians have long since recognised that humour is a key to reaching young people. The Instagram account of the Greens follows the schema: meme, then info slides. Markus Söder, on the other hand, publishes posts (keyword: "Söder eats") that are meant to seem humorous, ironic (?) and approachable. However, these attempts to entertain the ironic Gen-Z and reduce the distance to them seem rather pathetic than convincing. The problem: it rarely seems authentic, and much more like an attempt to speak a language you don't understand. And whilst Gen-Z likes to make fun of politics, it expects serious answers to serious problems from political actors, rather than humorous gags.

And now? Keep laughing.

In the end, humour remains for many a means of coping with the overwhelm of our time. The more absurd the world appears, the more absurd internet humour becomes. And perhaps that is precisely its strength: it creates community, distance and closeness all at once, and gives us a moment to catch our breath. Personally I think it's good. Because in a world that is often far too much, sometimes we have little choice but to laugh.