Hi, I’m Kayla Sox. I tell stories. I test gear. And lately, I’ve been testing jokes. Climate jokes. Yes, really.
I used them at our Tuesday open mic at the corner coffee shop. I brought a few to my kid’s school science night. I even risked one in a work stand-up (bad idea? maybe). I wanted to see if this type of humor helps, or hurts, or just hangs in the air like wildfire smoke.
Here’s the thing: people will laugh at hard stuff if you give them a safe door in. And sometimes they won’t. Both can be true. Let me explain.
Why I Even Tried This
I live in a place where fall now feels like late summer in a hoodie. We had smoke in September. Then rain that felt like a bucket. Folks are tired. I am too.
I didn’t want to make light of real pain. But I needed a way to talk about it, and not sink. Humor can be a small raft. Not a ship. Just a raft. There’s even peer-reviewed evidence that the right dose of climate-themed humor can lower anxiety and boost engagement, as outlined in this open-access Sustainability journal study.
So I wrote clean jokes. No blame. No finger-pointing. More “we” than “you.” I aimed for warm, not sharp. You know what? People leaned in.
The Lines That Landed (Real Jokes I Told)
Here are the exact bits that worked for me, word for word. Please steal the spirit, not the spice. Tweak for your town.
- “My weather app needs therapy. It keeps saying, ‘Feels like… sorry.’”
- “I tried to plan a fall outfit. Forecast said shorts, snow boots, and a helmet.”
- “I told my kid the planet has a fever. He said, ‘Where’s the nurse?’ I said, ‘Voting booth, bud.’”
- “I bought a reusable straw. The ocean didn’t text ‘thanks,’ but my junk drawer did.”
- “We used to leaf-peep. Now the leaves peep back in March like, ‘We early?’”
- “I set my oven to 350. Earth said, ‘Same.’”
- “Our carpool is so full, it’s basically a bus with snacks.”
- “I tried to fix my carbon with houseplants. The plants said, ‘We’re on break.’”
- “The ice cream aisle needs SPF now. It’s soup with sprinkles.”
- “My thermostat and my wallet broke up. Too hot. Too costly. Messy.”
Short bits that hit:
- “Reusable bags are my shame. I forget them, buy more, forget those, buy more. If bags were trees, I own a forest. A loud, crinkly forest.”
- “Weather small talk used to be, ‘Nice day!’ Now it’s, ‘You safe? Got a fan? Need a hug?’ My neighbor waved with oven mitts last July. That felt right.”
These got real laughs at the coffee shop and at school. Parents nodded. Teens smiled. One grandma did that happy wheeze-laugh that makes my heart pop.
Need a low-stakes arena to see how younger audiences react? Drop into InstantChat’s teen chat rooms—a moderated space where Gen Z users trade jokes, reactions, and honest feedback so you can tweak your set before the next coffee-shop mic.
What Flopped (And Why)
I promised honesty, so here’s what bombed.
- I tried a joke about “don’t worry, the billionaires will move us to Mars.” Silence. It felt mean, not fun. Punching up is fine, but it didn’t land with that crowd.
- I used a stat-heavy bit once: “2 degrees, 1.5 degrees.” It was true, but it sounded like algebra. People tuned out.
- A dark line about “swimming home” during a flood drill. Too close to recent news. A man in the front row looked down, and I felt that. I cut it.
Lesson: keep it human, not grim. Aim jokes at daily life, not real loss. If someone near you lived it, don’t make a gag of it.
Where I Tested Them (Little Scenes)
- Open mic: The mic smelled like coffee and nerves. I had sweaty palms. Laughter came in waves, not big, but warm. A barista said, “Thanks for making it not heavy.” That stuck.
- School science night: I stood by a poster with a cartoon Earth in sunglasses. The nurse line? Big hit. Kids repeated it to each other. That felt safe and helpful.
- Work stand-up: I tried the weather app joke. One chuckle. One sigh. Lessons live: some rooms want updates, not bits.
Dying to find a fresh room? If you’re near South Dakota, the community bulletin boards on Doublelist Sioux let local comics post gig calls, line up couch-surf audiences, and swap feedback threads so you can workshop your climate bits without begging the barista for stage time.
If you’re hunting for visuals to pair with your punchlines, I found huge inspiration in this global-warming climate-change PPT breakdown—proof that slides can carry jokes without derailing the science.
How To Tell Climate Jokes Without Being A Jerk
Not rules. Just guardrails that helped me.
For more ideas on talking about the climate with empathy (and humor), I’ve leaned on resources from Our Voices, which is packed with smart, heart-forward tips. I also found a concise overview from the American Association for the Advancement of Science that underscores how well-timed comedy can spark deeper climate conversations.
- Keep the target the systems, not the folks who suffer.
- Use your life. Bags, fans, bus stops, yard stuff.
- One hopeful beat at the end. Even tiny. It matters.
- Light on numbers. Heavy on images.
- Leave space. If they don’t laugh, breathe. Move on.
Small Add-On Lines That Helped
These acted like little seat belts after a joke.
- “I laugh so I don’t cry. Anyone else?”
- “We’re doing what we can. Even if it’s snacks and carpool.”
- “Serious thing. Soft heart.” (Said with a hand tap to chest.)
People relax when you show care.
Pros, Cons, and a Weird Middle
Pros:
- Helps people face a hard topic without shutting down.
- Creates a tiny team feel in the room.
- Works great as an opener for talks or lessons.
Cons:
- Can sting if it hits fresh wounds.
- Doesn’t travel well to every space (work meetings are tricky).
- If you overdo it, it feels like shrugging at a fire.
Weird middle:
- Some nights, the same joke sails. Next night, it sinks. Weather, mood, seats—who knows. Comedy is a cat.
And hey, sometimes the smartest move is calling in help; reading how one bakery fared after hiring a climate-change consultant reminded me that professional insights and a dash of levity can share the same stage.
My Take, Plain and Simple
“Climate change jokes” are not a fix. They’re a tool. A light, careful one. When you hold them with care, they can open ears and lower shoulders. When you don’t, they close doors.
I’ll keep five or six in my pocket. I’ll skip them when the news is raw. I’ll keep writing new ones that feel kind and real.
Score: 4 out of 5 nervous giggles. Use with heart.
And if you try some, tell me what worked. I’ll be at the coffee shop on Tuesday, sipping iced tea in November—because, well, you felt that too, right?