This week, men in comedy have been called out over systemic abuse and sexism towards women in the industry. Former professional comedian Ruth Spencer takes the mic.
To perform stand-up is to accept a degree of risk. The work is all your own and can publicly, humiliatingly fail on any given weekend. That's part of the fun of it. But if performing comedy is a risky business, should it follow that the risks extend offstage, to the greenrooms, bars, tour vans, phones and booking sheets of the industry? For too many comics the risks are greater offstage than on.
The Irish comedy scene is currently outing its abusers on social media, with comics citing sexual misconduct and career sabotage by more established comics and bookers. The accusers are mostly (though certainly not all) women, the accused mostly unnamed men. Unusually, Davey Reilly, one of the accused, has come forward to identify himself and admit the behaviour. Most are protected by the usual difficulties of reporting sexual misconduct: if she names him he'll deny it, she'll be mocked and ostracised, he'll continue to headline shows, nothing will change except now her colleagues won't look her in the face and her career mysteriously fails to advance. Her mistake, for letting her pain ruin everyone's fun.
It's not just Ireland, of course. Louis CK, known for exposing himself to female colleagues, has finished his comedically short time in exile and is back on the club circuit. Podcaster Joe Rogan is under fire for a 2011 interview with a friend and fellow comedian, where the friend admits forcing young female comics to perform sexual favours in return for stage time. Rogan laughs hysterically, throwing his head back and clapping. Rogan just signed a $100 million deal with Spotify.
Part of the problem, it's clear, is audiences willing to overlook and forgive, as long as the guy makes them laugh. Louis CK couldn't perform to an empty club and he doesn't have to. His audience doesn't think sexual assault and abuse of power are any barrier to a good time.