One of the things I enjoy most about hosting the Humourology Podcast is that occasionally a conversation takes an unexpected turn and leaves me thinking about it long after the microphones have been switched off.
That happened recently when I sat down with biographer Andrew Lownie to discuss his bestselling book
Entitled: The Rise and Fall of the House of York.
On the surface, it is a book about Andrew Mountbatten Windsor, formerly known as Prince Andrew, and Sarah Ferguson. In reality, it is about something much bigger: power, privilege, status and the curious ways human beings see themselves.
Or fail to.
As Andrew and I explored the lives, relationships, triumphs and catastrophes of the House of York, we found ourselves talking about humour. More specifically, the difference between humour that connects people and humour that merely attracts attention.
That distinction matters more than you might think.
There is an old joke:
How many narcissists does it take to screw in a lightbulb?
None.
They still use gaslighting.
Like most good jokes, it works because there is a grain of truth hiding underneath.
Humour as a Window Into Character
One of the reasons I ask every guest about humour is that humour reveals things people never intended to reveal. It tells us about confidence and insecurity, status and ego. It tells us who is comfortable in their own skin and who is still desperately trying to impress the room.
Some people possess confidence. Others possess confidence so loud it echoes. Some people have healthy self-esteem. Others have self-esteem with a crown.
The more Andrew and I talked, the more I found myself thinking about a particular type of person most of us have all met at some point. They may be found in boardrooms, politics, television studios or occasionally palaces. They are the people who can laugh at everybody except themselves.
We’ve all worked with them. The boss who can dish it out all day long but suddenly develops the emotional resilience of a Victorian teacup the moment the joke comes back in their direction. The colleague who enjoys teasing everybody else but reacts as though they have been personally attacked when somebody gently pokes fun at them. The leader who loves being the centre of attention but becomes visibly uncomfortable the moment attention arrives from an unexpected direction.
What makes this fascinating is that self-deprecating humour is not really about humour at all.
It is about perspective.
Why Empathy Matters
To laugh at yourself requires the ability to step outside your own viewpoint and see yourself as others might see you. It requires self-awareness, humility and, perhaps most importantly, empathy.
Many psychologists believe empathy sits at the heart of healthy relationships. It allows us to understand how our behaviour affects other people, helps us read a room and enables us to build trust.
Researchers at Greater Good, the University of California Berkeley’s centre for the science of wellbeing, argue that empathy is fundamental to healthy relationships, effective leadership and meaningful social connection. In other words, empathy is not simply a nice-to-have. It is one of the building blocks of trust.

Self-deprecating humour relies on exactly the same skill.
You cannot laugh at yourself if you cannot see yourself.
And you cannot see yourself clearly if all your energy is devoted to protecting your own status.
That is one reason narcissistic personalities often struggle with self-deprecating humour. The issue is not that they lack humour altogether. Some can be charming, witty and entertaining company. The difference is that humour tends to flow in only one direction: outwards, never inwards.
They laugh at other people’s mistakes while treating their own as classified information.
The Leadership Lesson
This matters because entitlement is not confined to royalty.
It turns up in businesses, boardrooms and organisations every day.
The people who make the best leaders are rarely those who believe they are flawless. More often, they are the people who are comfortable enough in their own skin to acknowledge mistakes, admit imperfection and occasionally become the punchline themselves.
That is not weakness.
It is confidence.
In fact, some of the most charismatic people I have ever met (including some royals) possess an ability to laugh at themselves. Not because they think less of themselves, but because they are secure enough not to need constant reassurance.
Humour, at its best, is a form of psychological flexibility. It allows us to hold our successes lightly and our mistakes honestly. The trouble with narcissists is not that they have a high opinion of themselves. Many successful people do. The trouble comes when they start believing they are the only person in the room with one.
Three Humourology Takeaways
- Self-deprecating humour is usually a sign of confidence, not weakness.
- The ability to laugh at yourself often requires empathy, humility and self-awareness.
- People who can occasionally be the punchline are often easier to trust than those who always need to be the star of the show.
A Final Humourology Thought
Perhaps that is why humour remains one of the most reliable indicators of emotional intelligence.
After all, if you cannot occasionally laugh at yourself, you may be taking yourself far too seriously.
And history suggests that rarely ends well.
See you next Tuesday.
Warmest,
Paul x
In case you missed it last week here’s the full Episode with Andrew





