In stand-up comedian Dave Chappelle’s latest Netflix special entitled Sticks and Stones, the comedy master left no stone unturned regarding subjects to commentate on. As has always been true with Chappelle’s particular brand of comedy, he went to some very controversial places with his jokes, some of them once again dipping into the waters of his own personal discomfort and confusion regarding trans people. As was expected, the special received much pushback from both trans activists and trans allies, but in a bonus feature not included in the main comedy special itself Dave Chappelle revealed that he had actually “tested” his trans jokes this time around by running them by a trans activist friend of his. According to Chappelle, this trans activist “laughed the loudest” at the jokes.

This activist in question would later reveal herself to be Daphne Dorman–herself a comedian as well as a trans rights activist for 12 years. She had even updated her social media accounts to confirm that she was indeed the trans friend Dave Chappelle was talking about. This seemed to put to bed the question of whether or not Chappelle’s motivations this time around were transphobic–casual, or otherwise. However, one trans person’s opinion should not of course be taken as the perfect representation of the community at large, and it was still argued by many that Chappelle’s choice to make light of the trans experience at all in light of the present climate surrounding the issue was in poor taste. After all, so many trans people have been murdered this year that the American Medical Association now says it qualifies as an epidemic.

One of the most brutal of those murders happened in Dallas, when 23-year-old trans woman Malaysia Booker was found shot to death in Dallas–only weeks after being beaten nearly to death in broad daylight by a mob of men. Bystanders, rather than helping her, jeered from the sidelines and misgendered her with the slur “f—-t!” But this was not an isolated incident, as Dallas in particular has seen a rise in brutal violence against trans women, and nationwide trans women of color in particular are being targeted and brutally beaten and/or killed. With such a clear rise in trans-specific violent acts across the country, it is now more important than ever as activists and allies to push back against all forms of trans misrepresentation found in popular media. Any little thing that shames or perpetuates confusion surrounding the trans experience, no matter how harmless or in jest in may at first seem, should be scrutinized and its motivations called into question. After all, as I have written elsewhere on this very site, popular media has long played a part in perpetuation of harmful stereotypes in the public psyche for various minorities throughout history. Trans people are no exception.

But again, poor taste or not, it could be argued that Dave Chappelle himself was just trying to go for some laughs and that he was not intending for his comedy to harm anyone. After all, he has a trans friend, and she thought it was funny!

Now, news has broken that Dave Chappelle’s trans friend in question, Daphne Dorman, has committed suicide. Taking to her social media for a final post before doing the deed, Miss Dorman pleaded with her friends and loved ones to not blame themselves and to realize that it was she who “failed” them, not the other way around. She leaves behind a young daughter.

In times like these, it is never good to speculate on motives. I did not know Miss Dorman, so I could not possibly begin to grasp what her specific pain manifested as or why it finally became too much for her to bear. But one thing I can certainly say with confidence is that the society around her, the society we all live in, was not one that understood her. And to some degree, that certainly must have played a role in whatever loneliness or aimlessness she did indeed feel. And something else I can confidently observe is that people like Dave Chappelle, entertainers and media personalities with influence who seem to elect for perpetuation of this lack of understanding of the trans experience over a push for transcending it, have helped to build the society that presently looks upon trans tragedies with indifference.

This is not to say that Dave Chappelle himself is the cause of the trouble, or even that we should blame him personally for anything tragic that befalls trans people in the years since the proliferation of his trans jokes. I think both positions would be quite absurd to take. It is clearly a symptom of a much larger, systemic problem of hierarchical oppression and commodification of the human being. And that systemic arrangement breeds and keeps alive many other forms of bigotry, prejudice, blind assumptions of innate ability within certain demographics, and the list truly goes on and on. But none of this means that people in positions of influence like Dave Chappelle shouldn’t perhaps choose of their own accord to be more aware and conscientious of the sorts of harmful assumptions about minorities their comedy stylings might unwittingly bolster.

For a bit more perspective, it should be noted that Chappelle’s latest comedy special was not the first instance of trans-related jokes to come from the comedian. Not even close. For years prior, Chappelle had been injecting his sets with scads of jokes taking aim at the trans experience in one form or another. One time when a fan wrote Chappelle with concerns of a particular trans joke he told being harmful to the trans community, Chappelle commented that he in fact had already forgotten which joke it was because he “has so many jokes about trans people” in his act. If Chappelle truly doesn’t hold any transphobic views of his own, might me rightfully ask why his material seems to be so preoccupied with trans people as punchlines?

One particular set of Chappelles that was being shopped around clubs back in 2016 reportedly featured a story about a trans woman “tricking” a straight cis man into having sex with her–something that is a common anti-trans trope used by transphobic voices in an attempt to delegitimize genuine cis-trans attraction as well as delegitimize the trans experience at large. In this same set, viewed by many at the Neptune Theater in Seattle, WA at the time, Chappelle described Caitlyn Jenner’s coming out as “damaging” to the young men who grew up looking up to Jenner as the epitome of masculinity–Chappelle himself included. He also reportedly used the pejorative term “tranny” to describe trans people in this earlier version of the act.

The following year, Chappelle recorded his refined version of this set as his special Equanimity. In that special, Chappelle retained the trans-related material, but stopped using the pejorative descriptor and opted instead to simply use the term “trans.” However, when revisiting the Caitlyn Jenner topic, Chappelle did refer to her by saying “yuck.” Not exactly the most cutting of social commentaries.

And this brings me to the ultimate point of this article: what exactly is comedy supposed to do? What is it we as a society have collectively decided comedy’s utility is for us? We can answer this question by looking at arguably the most revered and well-remembered comedians of the past half-century, starting with Lenny Bruce, moving into figures Bruce influenced like Richard Pryor, Sam Kinison, George Carlin, Bill Hicks, and then most recently, figures such as Louis C.K. (pre-scandal) and, yes, Dave Chappelle. What is the common thread these greats of comedy share when we look at their most memorable material? Off-color remarks? Certainly. Language and words often considered inappropriate or offensive? Yes. But more importantly, the best of their material, even when it was being provocative, always had a larger point to it: to challenge power.

When Lenny Bruce famously used bigoted slurs in one of his sets when describing the members of his audience, he let the initial shock hang in the air long enough to the questions to come. But then, he gave an answer: he was not using these terms to insult anyone, nor was he conveying a personal belief of racial superiority on his part. Instead, Bruce was pointing out the effect that simply hearing these words still had on people. He was pointing this out because he felt the pain these words caused was wrong and the subsequently crippling social effects of that pain unjust. He wanted mere words like these to one day reach a point where they no longer held that kind of power, adding that he wished for a day when young children of color could benefit from school without the defeating language of a racist bully having any effect whatsoever. Whether or not all of us agree with Lenny Bruce’s methods in this instance, what cannot be denied is the fact that said methods had a noble intent, and that intent was made clear by the performer himself before the set ended that night. Bruce received nothing but applause from his multi-racial audience that night, and stand-up comedy began to change–arguably for the better. No longer was it simply a means of throwing cheap laughs at a passive audience; in Lenny Bruce’s world, it was a tool for connecting a mindful audience to the social commentaries of the artist on the stage.

One night, Lenny Bruce was arrested during a set because he refused to censor his language after being threatened by law enforcement. Once again, this act of defiance was not aimed at organic communities of real people, but instead at the top-down authoritarianism of the power structures of the day threatening to compromise art and expression. Lenny Bruce cursed on stage not to be vulgar for vulgarity’s sake but to send a message that freedom to speak mattered more than servility to power. In solidarity with Bruce, certain members of his audience that night chose to rush police in order to be arrested alongside him. One such audience member was a young George Carlin, who actually ended up being put in the same wagon as Lenny Bruce himself. Carlin, of course, would go on to be a comedy giant in his own right, further pushing the boundaries of admissible speech and commentary in the same tradition as Bruce.

And yet, one particular interview with Carlin reveals quite a bit regarding what his philosophy on comedy’s irreverence was really about. In 1990, Carlin appeared on Larry King Live to convey his approach to comedy. Among the the conversation points was a prompt from Larry King to discuss the similarly controversial comedian Andrew Dice Clay, who was at the time a famous contemporary of Carlin’s. Here, Carlin states that while he supports Clay’s right to free artistic expression in the legal sense, he is confounded by who Clay chooses to make the brunt of his jokes (clip below).

“The thing that I find usual,” admits Carlin, “is that his targets are underdogs. And comedy, traditionally, has picked on people in power. People who abuse their power. Women, gays, immigrants, and so forth, are to me underdogs. And, y’know, [Clay] ought to be careful, because he’s Jewish. And a lot of the people who want to pick on these kinds of groups–the Jews are on that list! Further down the line: you have women, gays, gypsies, and so forth, and suddenly, you find Jews. Then, Andrew’s the one arrested!”

But Carlin isn’t finished, expressing an eerily prophetic suspicion regarding why this sort of punching down in comedy could lead to even worse outcomes down the line. “I think [Clay is] appealing largely– I think his core audience are young white males who are threatened by these groups. I think a lot of these guys aren’t sure of their manhood, because that’s a problem when you’re going through adolescence … and the women who assert themselves and are competent are a threat to these men, and so are immigrants in terms of jobs … there is a sharing of anger and rage at these targets. And I’m sure Andrew isn’t that angry. I’m sure he’s playing it as a comic.”

Obviously, this isn’t something we can say for certain would have been a similar summation of Carlin’s were he alive today to witness the present state of comedy, but considering how closely related his commentary was in this instance, it is reasonable to assume with a good amount of confidence that it is still applicable today to the same sort of soft bigotry being played for laughs by the likes of Chappelle and Louis C.K. dealing with gender identity.

And so, Carlin was clear: his irreverence was such that it aimed to keep power in check, not to needlessly punch down at underdog groups. And on down the line of this aforementioned list of comedy greats, we can see similar sentiment in effect. Sam Kinison’s irreverence was often crafted for the purpose of exposing the evils of organized religion. Richard Pryor’s use of inappropriate language was used to shine a light on areas of race relations that still needed addressing. Bill Hicks, the absolute madman, would chastise nearly anyone, but always with a sense of cutting observation that left his audience questioning the veracity the very norms of society itself.

And what of the newest comedy kings such as Louis C.K. and Dave Chappelle? Are they not at present under fire for insensitive comedy that seems to only punch down at the underdogs? Yes, they are. But it is important to note that these men did not initially become great by doing this sort of cheap, easy comedy. These men were every bit as challenging to the status quo as the men before them in this list, and it has only been a fairly recent development for them to veer down this other path. In both cases, this shift seemed to occur in the wake of much larger controversies that saw these men retreat from public view and attempt to reinvent their brands.

In the case of Dave Chappelle, his show on the Comedy Central television network, Chappelle’s Show, had come under fire for claimed racially insensitive comedy skits–one in particular, about magical pixies representing all the races, featured a character in blackface urging black Americans to behave in ways white society expected them to in order to survive. Obviously, this should be seen as yet more cutting social commentary. But it was not ubiquitously received as such. And even Dave Chappelle himself began to wonder if he had gone too far, recalling later that when the skit was filmed, a white audience member laughed the loudest and the longest at the blackface pixy. Chappelle then made the now-infamous choice to “run away to Africa” and not return to the show, with its final season being a collection of random leftover skits hosted by people other than Chappelle himself. (In reality, Chappelle had gone to visit a family friend in South Africa for two weeks and simply opted to not return to the show in the wake of the backlash.)

Chappelle then slowly returned to public life, first testing out his comedy in local clubs unannounced in the early 2010s, then ultimately returning in full-swing with his Netflix specials and a whole new wave of controversy. But this time, the controversy was of a different nature. Instead of Dave Chappelle attempting to present relevant social commentary about racial dynamics, power structures, and race relations, he was instead moaning and groaning about his past controversies for doing those things while doing very little to add to them. The return of Dave Chappelle had given us a very different Dave Chappelle–one who almost seemed to be counting on anger over backlash and controversy rather than making a relevant social point in spite of backlash and controversy. Now, Chappelle’s commentary punches down at the underdogs, as observed by Carlin of Andrew Dice Clay’s homophobic style in the 1990s. Chappelle in the 1990s was speaking truth to power about racism, stereotypes, and disingenuous liberal pandering to minorities; Chappelle in the 2010s now opines about how grossed out he is by Caitlyn Jenner while wishing for the good old days before trans people were more boldly and numerously coming out and declaring their truths. This is simply not equivalent forms of comedic irreverence. One challenges power dynamics while the other reinforces them. And while on principle it is still consistent to support Chappelle’s legal right to freely express himself, this does not mean that those now speaking out about the irresponsible nature of his new approach are wrong to be wary. Quite the contrary.

With Louis C.K., it was a controversy of a more personal nature that sent him into social exile for a time. In the wake of the #MeToo movement, C.K. was revealed to have used his position of power and fame to solicit females into letting him self-pleasure in front of them. To his credit, he fully admitted that it was the case that his position of power made the exchanges very difficult for the women to refuse and therefore he saw it as wrong and coercive. By all accounts, he genuinely regretted it. And for a time, he too went off the public’s radar with the presumed intent of reinventing himself and returning to comedy one day. Louis C.K. prior to this had earned rightful accolades from many as a comedic genius, and he also made very intelligent observations about how the world works and brought about thoughtful conversation within his fanbase with both his stand-up specials and his Louie television show. But much like Chapelle, C.K.’s return brought with it a very different version of the man we knew before. His comedy now, also like Chappelle’s, seems to be punching down at the underdogs. In a leaked snippet from one of his more recent sets, C.K. can be heard stating the following:

“I was kind of excited to be in my 50s and see people in their 20s and be like, ‘You’re crazy!’ These kids are f–king nuts!” Further on, C.K. disparages trans youth more obviously: “‘You shouldn’t say that.’ What the– What are you? An old lady? What the f–k are you doing? ‘Nyeah! That’s not appropriate.’ F–k you! You’re a child. Why aren’t you finger-f–king each other and doing Jell-O shots? ‘You should address me as…’ They’re like royalty! They tell you what to call them! ‘You should address me as they/them, because I identify as gender neutral.’ Oh, okay. Well, you should address me as ‘there,’ because I identify as a location. And the location is your mother’s c–t!”

Not only does this grossly misrepresent what non-binary existence is all about, it also misrepresents what trans people’s grievances truly amount to. This article pointed out earlier just how dire daily existence truly is for many trans people across the country right now, with beatings and killings at epidemic levels, and Louis C.K. has decided that the best way to carry on the great tradition of irreverent comedy … is to frivolously belittle the trans experience by reducing the trans plight to an argument about pronouns? Where exactly in this comedy routine is Louis C.K. using his irreverence to challenge power? Who exactly has the more social power in this equation? The straight, cis male with a public platform and influence, or the trans youth he’s calling entitled?

Perhaps people like both Dave Chappelle and Louis C.K. are simply ignorant of just how real the danger is for trans people right now. Perhaps they have’t read the literature demonstrating the science behind the validity of the trans experience. Perhaps they don’t know the statistics, or see the brutal footage, or read the personal testimonies. In fact, it is a good bet that this is the case and that these men, and others like them, are indifferent to this stuff because the simply aren’t aware of it. But if that is the case, it would likely be better for them to refrain altogether from jumping into this conversation when what they say, half-serious or not, merely played for laughs or not, can do very real damage by furthering the confusion, misrepresentation, and hate that still surrounds trans existence today. If these artists truly want to continue their legacies of utilizing comedy for the purpose their greatest influences felt it should be used for, then they arguably must rediscover what it really means to challenge the status quo through their words.