The great George Burns once said that analyzing a joke is like dissecting a frog. It's gross, nobody enjoys it, and it kills the frog. 

A new study by Florida State University is trying to prove that laughter is not, what many consider, a natural response to something innately funny. Rather, they've found that it is a response to our need to advance in social circles. By laughing, the study has said, we are trying to please the person who made the joke. People who are of a higher caste are less likely to laugh at a joke made by an underling and people of a lower status are more likely to laugh at a person with a higher status' joke.

On the surface, this makes perfect sense. If a boss makes a joke, all the employees laugh to show they approve. If one were to not laugh, they are showing their disapproval and, therefore, are verging on insubordination. Just as likely, most bosses will not laugh at an employee's joke because they feel as if they are the one in the situation to be impressed.

So what if a boss laughs at your joke? This could be good or bad. The boss might be very humble OR he may feel endangered by your growing status. If he knows something you don't (like a possible promotion that could put you above him), he may laugh at your jokes to get on your good side.

Then what about more social situations? If you and a group of friends are sitting at a table eating lunch and one does a bad impersonation of Borat, whether you laugh or not depends (according to this study) on your status with that friend. If you are at odds with them, you may not laugh. A friend may nudge you and say "C'mon, you know it's funny." However, they laughed to stay on the person's good side. Your pride is blocking you from laughing at that person. As you are all friends and equal on the social plane, you expect them to laugh at your jokes so they submit they are lower than you. It's similar to how elephants bow to the alpha male. When you laugh at someone, you are submitting that they are higher on the social plane than you.

 A harder subject that this study only briefly confronts is laughing at movies or stand-up comics. It has often been said of some music (particularly Fleetwood Mac) that people only enjoy it because of the grand status it has achieved. For example, it is a taboo to express discontent with Nirvana's Nevermind, and only because it has been revered since the day it came out. However, if that album were to come out today, it would probably sink.

Perhaps the same is true for comedy. I've seen many people force laughs at Monty Python movies because they feel that if they are not laughing at the movie, something is wrong with themselves. Society has built a halo around certain works to the extent that, if they are not enjoyed, then something is wrong with the person that did not enjoy it. 

So perhaps laughing at movies and comics is a social move, not so much pleasing the actors but the people around you. This would easily explain why you are much more likely to laugh with a crowd than when sitting alone.

In circles of friends, all one has to do is bring up a shared experience and everyone will be consumed by raucous laughter. This laughter is securing the group and keeping the group close by allowing them to share a secret (perhaps the reason people hate explaining inside jokes).

So what now? Will laughter, like George Burns' frog/joke, become dissected and meaningless? Will we lose all humor once our reason for laughing becomes common knowledge?

Of course not. Laughing is integrated into our instinctual habits, much like the desire to reproduce. When humans found out flirting's sole reasoning was to carry on the gene pool, did it stop? As much as science finds out about the way socializing works, it will never be enough to resign any of these habits because they all work towards one goal: reproducing. If laughing carries you along the higher rungs of the social ladder, it ipso facto renders you more capable of reproducing in the eyes of possible mates.

So laughing, like flirting, stays intact, despite FSU's gross examination. Normally I'd end on a joke, but I know you'd only laugh to win my approval.