There is nothing quite like the sound of crickets.
On a cricket pitch, it usually means a long, lazy summer afternoon. On a comedy stage, it means something has gone terribly wrong.
Or does it?
A Team Built on Banter
I was reminded of this recently when I came across an old photograph from around 1989 to 1991. A ragtag collection of comedians, actors and writers, all in slightly ill-fitting whites, grinning at the camera as if we knew something the rest of the world did not.
We probably did.
One of the most enjoyable teams I ever played in was this ramshackle XI, pulled together by Chris England and brilliant Humourology guest Arthur Smith. We would take on equally eclectic teams from around London. No central contracts. No sponsorship deals. Just a group of people who spent most of their lives trying to make strangers laugh, turning up to bat, bowl and banter our way through a summer afternoon.
A Snapshot Before Everything Changed
This was a different time. No camera phones. You might have a camera if you remembered to bring one, but most of the time you didn’t. And the only phones we had were tethered to the hallway wall at home, which made capturing moments like this almost impossible. So this photograph is a rare snapshot of something fleeting.
A moment in time.
Most of us were young. Many of us had our biggest years ahead of us. A few familiar faces are in there. Some you would recognise instantly. Others you might need to squint at and say, “I know that face…” which brings me neatly to this week’s Humourology challenge.
How many can you name?
Email me with your guesses, and you could win a signed copy of
The Humourology Book
Or, if you are particularly lucky, a very rare, unsigned one.
The Power of Shared Moments
But the photograph is more than a guessing game. It is a reminder of something deeper.
When I bump into people from that era, there is an immediate connection. A shared understanding. A sense that we have been through something together. In psychological terms, it is what we call an anchor. A powerful association that takes you straight back to a feeling, a place, a version of yourself.
And what a great anchor it is.
The Comedy Store, Edinburgh, late nights, tough rooms, glorious rooms, and yes, the occasional sound of crickets.
When Silence Becomes Material
Every comedian knows that sound. You deliver a line you are convinced will bring the house down and instead… silence. Not even polite laughter. Just the gentle hum of nothing.
Here is the Humourology twist.
Those crickets are not failure. They are material.
If you reframe that moment as your next funny story, something shifts. The fear reduces. The risk becomes easier. You step out of your comfort zone because you know that even if it goes wrong, it will go right later, just in a different form.
Research in performance psychology tells us that reframing failure reduces stress and increases resilience. In business terms, it allows people to experiment without becoming paralysed by the fear of getting it wrong. Comedians have been doing this for years. We fail publicly, frequently and, ideally, funnily.
And there is something leaders can learn from that.
Three Humourology Takeaways
- Reframe failure as future story
If something does not land, do not bury it. Bank it. The story of what went wrong often has more value than the thing you hoped would go right. - Build anchors that serve you
Shared experiences create lasting bonds. Teams that laugh together, struggle together and recover together build deeper trust. That trust is the foundation of high performance. - Take the risk anyway
The only way to avoid the sound of crickets is not to speak. That is not a winning strategy in comedy or in business. Step forward, take the shot, and trust that whatever happens will add to your repertoire.
More Than Just a Photograph
Looking back at that photograph, I am struck not just by who is in it, but by what it represents. A group of people learning their craft, supporting each other, and quietly building the stories that would carry them through their careers.
We were not thinking about legacy. We were thinking about the next over, the next gag, the next laugh.
And occasionally, the next silence.
If you have ever had your own version of crickets, on stage, in a meeting, or in life, perhaps it is time to listen to them differently.
They might just be the start of something funny.
See you next Tuesday.
Warmest,
Paul x
P.S. I remember countless times working with great Humourology guest Arthur Smith, who used to drop a line into his act that arrived with absolutely no warning.
“How come your testicles always look thirty years older than you?”
Maybe as well as the “spot the comedian” competition, we should also run a “spot the balls” competition.
Check out the latest episode from Season 8 of the Humourology Podcast
