By Federico Soto Roland, Strategy, AI & Digital Director, NSB Agency

For decades, humor was one of the main engines of advertising creativity. We laughed at Personal's "Lama que llama" and its irreverence; at the cheeky Axe spot with the two pizza makers who made women melt as they kneaded their dough; or at the famous Fernet Branca campaign with 10 friends in the living room, where one of them turns out to be the possibly gay one in the group. Unforgettable spots!

But something changed. Today, in an era where anything can be offensive, it seems that making people laugh by playing to the extremes has become a minefield. Is it the fault of wokeness? Of cancel culture? Or has the advertising industry simply gotten serious… and a little boring?

Spoiler: a bit of everything. But let's take it one step at a time.

The domino effect of political correctness

You don't have to be a guru to notice that the global advertising narrative has swung hard toward the "correct."

Over the last five years, most of the major awards at festivals like Cannes Lions went to purpose-driven campaigns. Equality, inclusion, the environment, mental health. All valid. All necessary. But over that same period, the use of humor in ads plummeted: from 53% in 2000 to 34% in 2020, according to Kantar.

Coincidence? Not at all.

Cancel culture — and its close cousin, "wokeness" — forced brands to tread very carefully. Today any joke can be read as offensive by someone on some social network. The fear of backlash is real. No one wants to trend for the wrong reasons.

The result: creatives with the handbrake on. Brands playing it safe. Campaigns that don't bother anyone… but don't move anyone either.

From "purpose" to the yawn

The rise of purpose-driven advertising brought positive things. It made us question stereotypes, amplified voices, brought important issues into view. But it also created a new problem: "purpose abuse." [see our earlier piece "Do all brands really need a purpose?"]

What do I mean? Those campaigns that are so correct, so sober, so focused on "doing good" that they forget to entertain. And in advertising, if you don't entertain, you don't connect. It's that simple.

In fact, System1 studies showed that many Cannes-winning campaigns have mediocre effectiveness with real audiences. Why? Because they're cold, flat or generate negative emotions. Excessive seriousness is boring. And in the world of brands, that comes at a steep price.

Cannes, Kantar and the return of humor

Something changed in 2023. At Cannes, more than half of the winners in Film Lions were campaigns with humor. And not lukewarm humor, but funny, bold ideas with sharp scripts.

The reason? Humor works.

According to Kantar:

. 90% of people remember an ad better if it's funny.
. 72% prefer to buy from brands that make them laugh.
. 91% want brands to be funny.

Need I go on?

In response, Cannes launched a new category: Humor Lions. A clear signal that the industry wants — and needs — to recover its more human and less solemn side.

Can you do humor without offending?

Yes. You can. And you should.

The problem isn't humor. It's bad humor. The kind that leans on stale stereotypes, on mocking those who are different, or on jokes that have aged terribly. But good humor — the kind that laughs with people, not at people — remains one of the most powerful tools a brand has for connecting.

And you don't have to look far to prove it. The Argentine phenomenon "División Palermo," by Santiago Korovsky, is proof that dark humor, the absurd and satire can coexist perfectly with contemporary sensibilities.

The series pokes fun at everything — the police, activist groups, institutions, prejudices, the protagonists themselves — and yet it was a hit with critics and audiences alike. Not by "playing it safe," but by doing humor from a place of intelligence, humanity and perfect timing.

The case of División Palermo reinforces a truth that advertising should embrace again: laughter connects when it's genuine, well crafted and — above all — good-natured. It's not about dodging sensitive topics, but about approaching them from a different angle. And that angle doesn't always have to be solemn.

Conclusion: less fear, more creative courage

Wokeness didn't kill humor. It put it to the test.

It challenges us to be more aware, yes. To think more carefully about what we say. But that doesn't mean giving up laughter, the absurd, the wit. On the contrary: it means sharpening our creativity to find ways of doing humor that add, that unite, that don't need to put anyone down to make an impact.

The advertising industry can't resign itself to being a parade of harmless, forgettable messages. Not everything has to be "let's fight for our purpose and build a greener world."

When a brand loses the ability to make you feel something — laughter, emotion, surprise, anything — it starts to die a little.

And there's nothing more effective than a good laugh.