The Ranveer Allahbadia controversy: Why we enjoy jokes at others’ expense and the psychology of roast humour

As the content creator faces ongoing backlash for his controversial “sex with parents” remark while attempting to roast a contestant as a judge, his apology — stating that “comedy is not my forte” — has done little to quell the criticism.

Earlier last year, content creator and actor Kusha Kapila also came forward after appearing on a show called ‘Pretty Good Roast Show’ where Raina took a dig at her marriage, divorce, and sex life. The episode went viral and raised several eyebrows due to the comments made on her.

Taking to social media, Kapila shared a note: “Jokes weren’t shared beforehand (as it’s done in all roast formats in the west) so I had no idea what was in store for me. Maybe I should have asked for a script and known better but since friends were involved I didn’t. Rookie mistake. While I endured some of the really raspy jokes in front of a live audience and technicians, I absolutely was not okay for it to play for millions of people since some jokes straight up dehumanised me. It was shockingly unkind.”

These incidents spark important discussions about the boundaries of ‘roasts’ and their broader impact.

Roasts thrive on the delicate balance between wit and brazenness. But what makes us laugh at others’ expense? And where do we draw the line? To understand this, indianexpress.com spoke to stand-up comedians as well as psychologists.

The complex psychology of roast humour

“Humour, by its very nature, always comes at the expense of something — if not others, then ourselves,” explains Gurleen Baruah, an existential psychotherapist at management consulting firm That Culture Thing. She points to the “delicate interplay between wit, discomfort, and shared laughter” that makes roasts particularly engaging. This dynamic creates what she calls a “dance with discomfort”, where skilled comedians must navigate precisely between entertainment and offence.

Psychologist Anjali Gursahaney offers multiple frameworks to understand this phenomenon. Through the ‘Superiority Theory’, she explains how people often laugh at others’ expense because it “reinforces a sense of superiority” and provides a “temporary ego boost”. The ‘Benign Violation Theory’ suggests that humour emerges when something challenges social norms while remaining within a “safe” or “playful” context, she says. Additionally, she notes that shared laughter, even at someone’s expense, can serve as a form of “catharsis and social bonding”.

The comedians’ tightrope walk

For working comedians, these theoretical frameworks translate into practical challenges. Stand-up comedian Rishabh Goyal emphasises the importance of empathy in comedy: “Before I make a joke, I ask myself, ‘Will this person laugh with me?’ and not ‘Will people laugh at them?’” He acknowledges that “comedy is very personal” and that “even in a show where people come because they like me, not everyone laughs at the same joke. Some laugh hard, some just smile, and some stay quiet”.

Stand-up comedian Navin Kumar takes a more direct approach to the question of boundaries. He tells indianexpress.com, “Not sure what ‘too far’ here means. But most of the time, the imaginary line is in the comedian’s conscience.” This perspective is echoed by comedian Garv Malik, who observes that “every listener of the joke decides for themselves which joke is too far for whom. The comedian can decide for themselves as a listener, which is why most people only do jokes they are comfortable saying”.

The rise of social media has fundamentally altered the dynamics of roast comedy. (Source: Freepik)

The role of consent

A crucial element that emerges from both comedians and psychologists is the importance of context and consent. Anish Goregaonkar, a Marathi stand-up comedian, emphasises that “if the person who you are cracking the joke on laughs at it, you have nailed it”. He draws an illuminating parallel to sports entertainment, saying, “If people are going to watch a roast show and do the same thing on other people, I don’t think it’s the comic’s fault. It’s as simple as you watching a WWE wrestler and trying to chokeslam your friend. You are at fault, not the wrestler.”

Garv Malik adds nuance to this perspective, noting that effective roasting should “make the subject of the joke appear more human, and bring them off the high horse that society might put them in”. He illustrates this with a specific example: “The joke on Arjun Kapoor being 10th Pass in AIB Roast made us all realise that despite being a superstar, he also struggled in school studies like many of us, and is only human.”

Digital amplification of roast comedy

The rise of social media has fundamentally altered the dynamics of roast comedy. Stand-up comedian Rishabh Goyal points out a crucial change, adding that “a joke told to 100 people in a room can now be seen by thousands online” who “don’t know you, your style, or the context”.

This observation aligns with Baruah’s analysis that “a joke or roast made in a specific context – where consent and participation are clear — can easily be stripped of that context when recorded and shared online”.

Gursahaney warns of specific dangers in the digital age, saying, “Unlike live roasts, social media roasts have a permanent digital footprint. This can lead to prolonged embarrassment, cyberbullying, or reputation damage.” She notes that “celebrities and influencers often experience relentless roasting, which can contribute to anxiety, depression, or withdrawal from public life.”

The psychological impact

The effects of roasting on mental well-being vary significantly among individuals. Gursahaney explains that while those with “high self-esteem are more likely to laugh at themselves and view roasts as harmless fun,” individuals with “low self-esteem may perceive roasting as a personal attack, reinforcing negative self-perceptions”.

Goyal shares a personal lesson that illustrates this impact. “When I was starting out, I once made a joke about someone’s looks… later I found out it made them feel bad. They told me it reminded them of something they were already worried about,” he says. This experience, he says, taught him that “our words can stay with people long after the show is over”.

Stereotypes and social responsibility

Comedian Garv Malik addresses the concern about reinforcing harmful stereotypes. “I think harmful stereotypes or jokes on them can only work if everyone believes it is true. I cannot force/create a belief unless people have noticed it themselves in their real life or in movies,” he says. However, he emphasises that “it only makes sense to roast someone equal to you or bigger than you otherwise it becomes punch down comedy, going off the spirit of comedy itself”.

Baruah provides a crucial framework for evaluating roast comedy. She says that the question is not whether humour should come at someone’s expense, but “whether the joke humanises or dehumanises”. This distinction offers perhaps the clearest guideline for both comedians and audiences in determining when a roast crosses the line from entertainment to harm.

Finding balance in the digital age

The Ranveer Allahbadia controversy exemplifies the challenges facing modern comedy. As roasts move from intimate venues to global platforms, the need for careful consideration of impact becomes increasingly crucial. While roast comedy can serve as a powerful tool for social bonding and emotional release, its potential for harm requires thoughtful execution from performers and critical consumption from audiences.

As Goyal concludes, “Good comedy doesn’t need to hurt anyone; it can be clever and kind at the same time.” In an era where a single joke can spark a national controversy, this balance between wit and wisdom becomes not just an artistic choice, but a social responsibility.