Comics often refer to their various bits and jokes, terms that seem to be used almost interchangeably. “His joke about the beautiful butterflies always kills,” someone might say, or “I can’t decide if her bit about being a squirter is hilarious or just disturbing.” So what’s the difference between a bit and a joke?
The distinction is subtle, enough so that I’ve been accused of splitting hairs by making it — and in fairness, it took me a year’s worth of immersion in stand-up before I recognized it. But there is definitely a noticeable difference: bits include a series of punchlines that are all embedded within a longer narrative, whereas jokes are shorter and stand on their own.
Jokes: short and punchy
The basic structure of a joke is simple: setup, punchline, laugh. Tags, or additional punchlines, may follow. Jokes are short, punchy, memorable, and easy to tell to your friends because they don’t rely on a larger narrative. Comedians who primarily tell old-fashioned jokes include Mitch Hedberg, Demetri Martin, Gilbert Gottfried, Stephen Wright, Anthony Jeselnik and Jimmy Carr:
Joke-oriented comics in Seattle include Ross Parsons, Andy Palmer, and Barbara Holm, all very funny people whose acts are worth making an effort to see.
Bits: narratives with punchlines
Bits, on the other hand, are collections of related jokes strung together in the form of a story or rant. They still adhere to the basic physics of joke structure — setup, punchline, tag — but each punchline is embedded in a larger narrative, and wouldn’t make sense in isolation. David Letterman’s top ten list is a bit that contains ten different jokes.
My favorite example of extended bits is the material that Chris Rock includes in the middle of his acts, the searing social critiques (i.e. “rich” versus “wealthy”) that he sandwiches between crowd-pleasing raunchy material. Along with Rock, well-known comics whose acts are primarily filled with bits include Louis CK, Dave Chappelle, Dane Cook, Patton Oswalt, and Bill Burr:
Fantastic Seattle comics whose material is largely based around funny bits include Mike Cummings, Brian Boshes, Jen Seaman, and Andrew Rivers.
Comedy envy
There are two unassailable truths about the bit/joke dichotomy: (1) Neither format is qualitatively better than the other; it’s really just a matter of formatting. Funny is funny, just as delicious food tastes delicious regardless of whether you take it home from the store in paper or plastic. (2) Comics who are comfortable writing in one style invariably envy the writing style of The Other. What comes naturally to us often seems less impressive than what doesn’t.
As an example of that point: Chris Rock and Louis CK are my two favorite stand-up comedians, and their sets consist almost entirely of bits, including some bits that are so intricate they go on for a full twenty minutes. Both of them are famous and successful comedians, yet here they both are, in awe of the more purely joke-writing stylings of Mitch Hedberg:
Years ago, Chris Rock and I were writing a shitty movie together. We were talking about comedians. We went to Mitch Hedberg’s site (this is before he died) and watched one of his Letterman sets. At the time, Chris and I were (and are) both wind-bag, stage-stalking, hammer a premise to the ground comics. We watched Mitch, who just fired beautiful fastballs one after the other. Joke joke joke. All solid. All amazing. Non-stop. Five minutes of it. We were in awe of it. Much respect to Mitch Hedberg.
Most comics do some of both. While Mitch primarily told jokes, he also did some bits — like the hilarious DuFrenes bit (located halfway down this page). But have you ever tried to find one of Mitch’s jokes based on his CD track titles? It’s virtually impossible for most of his material, because the title often refers to a single 30-second joke sandwiched in between a dozen other unrelated jokes.
Self-diagnosis: not pithy
This is true for me, too. Since my own comedy is mostly based around bits, I get super excited on the rare occasion when I come up with a pure joke-joke. That pithy style of writing is just not how I’m wired1, whereas the flow of a bit comes to me a lot more naturally. My fifteen minute act contains maybe one minute’s worth of straightforward jokes.
So how is this useful, then, this distinction between bits and jokes? It really isn’t, in any practical sense. It’s vaguely helpful when referring to material; being able to precisely refer to “that bit” or “that joke,” for example. But not really. Mostly it’s the kind of navel-gazing, circle-jerk topic that comics spend endless amounts of time arguing about backstage — and writing about on their blogs.
- Some might say that’s because I’m too wordy, and would point to this blog as evidence. I wouldn’t argue. [↩]



Hah! If you didn’t add that last tine “on their blogs” I was going to.
andrew rivers
March 16th, 2010
I think anyone who can write 5 minutes of quick and pithy jokes is a genius. Bits are easier because you get a little bit of time to paint the picture. The Hedberg and Wright styles of jokes paint the picture in 25 seconds. Totally genius.
jason Deuman
March 16th, 2010
Jason I agree with you to a point, but I find it best to do a combination of each style… jokes can win back a room if a bit failed or a call-back can bring the warmth back… it all depends on the room, the environment, your delivery and your likability in some cases.
Jen Seaman
March 18th, 2010
Just stopping by to tell you that your site is awesome! I’m a freshman in high school and I’m doing a stand up routine for comedy night at school and I’m up against a bunch of guys who have no structure to their humor. Thanks for all the great advice!
Chrissy
May 4th, 2010