The History Of The Most Popular Joke 

The History Of The Most Popular Joke 

By Ramrod Dank This is the most popular joke format in the world.  Don’t believe me?...

By Ramrod Dank

  • Knock, knock!
  • Who’s there?
  • This is.
  • This is who?

This is the most popular joke format in the world. 

Don’t believe me? Well, try greeting any random person on the street with a “knock knock.” No matter where you live, there’s a good chance you’ll be greeted back with an instinctive “Who’s there?” If not, then they’ll probably take you for a drug peddler trying to test a secret code. All in all, it’s an effective way to understand the global appeal of this joke.

It easily beats other joke formats like the bar jokes (A horse walks into a bar… you know the rest), stereotype jokes (e.g., how do you know a person’s vegan? He or she’ll tell you), and even yo mama jokes (I value my safety, so let’s not).

But where did this joke come from? And how did it knock its way into becoming so popular? Well, as it turns out, like almost all things in the English language, Shakespeare had something to do with it. (I mean, at this point, it would be easier to question what didn’t come from Shakespeare.)

However, today, its popularity is so ridiculous that you can find people knocking in French (toc-toc!), Spanish (toc-toc again), Hindi (thak-thak), and even German (klopf-klopf).

But how did it all begin?

Macbeth is said to have been first staged in 1611 at the Globe Theatre, and instantly, it was destined to be a classic. With five equally enthralling acts, Shakespeare expertly outlines the rise and fall of a power-hungry general committing regicide to grab the royal throne. As the tragedy unfolds, it sheds light on the fate of those with unchecked ambition and how their pursuit can bring ruin to empires and dynasties.

Also, the play gave us the first knock-knock joke, as some scholars believe. 

If you open Act 2, Scene 3 of this play, scholastically called the ‘porter scene’, you’ll find this passage:

PORTER: Here’s a knocking indeed! If a man were porter of hell gate, he should have old turning the key. (Knock.) Knock, knock, knock! Who’s there, i’ th’ name of Beelzebub? Here’s a farmer that hanged himself on th’ expectation of plenty. Come in time! Have napkins enough about you; here you’ll sweat for ’t.

And it goes on. 

But, here’s where the plot thickens. Turns out, Ben Jonson did this joke before Shakespeare. In the play ‘The Case is Altered’, written around 1597, he wrote something very similar:  JUNIPER: No, I’ll knock. We’ll not stand upon horizons and tricks but fall roundly to the matter. [He knocks.] ONION: Well said, sweet Juniper. Horizons? Hang ’em! Knock, knock! RACHEL: [Within] Who’s there? Father? JUNIPER: Father? No, and yet a father, if you please to be a mother.

So, who invented this joke? Well, both playwrights can be equally credited. While Jonson added a punchline, Shakespeare improved the format and, in a way, immortalized it. It would be safe to say that one started the knock; the other made sure we kept opening the door.

And how did it become famous?

Let’s travel back in time and place to 1930s America. It’s the time of the Great Depression, mass unemployment, poverty, hunger and amidst all of this, one newspaper columnist decided to publish an article about a new parlour game where a person would ask “Knock, knock,” and the other would reply: “Who’s there?”

And just like that, he cured the Great Depression, people got employed again, food was on every table, and World War II was averted.  No? All of this did not happen? 

The world still went spectacularly off the rails. But what he ended up unleashing was the joke equivalent of bubonic plague (Yes, he made the joke viral before viral was even a thing). Knock-knock became a trend. It was on everybody’s tongue. Radio stations picked the fad, judged the joke, used it to deride politicians. They created a fictional man, named him Ramrod Dank, and commended him for coining the format (this is real, by the way). Advertisers made copies, held contests for the best jokes, and one even went so far as to create the world’s best-documented poor joke. It goes like this:

  • Knock knock. 
  • Who’s there? 
  • Rufus. 
  • Rufus who? 

Rufus the most important part of your house.

Get it?

By the 1950s, the joke went international. And the rest is history.

Knock, knock? Who’s not there?

It’s humor. This joke is lame. Yes, it is the most popular joke, but it is not even among the best jokes out there. I mean, why not judge it yourself: 

  • Knock, knock?
  • Who’s there?
  • Boo.
  • Boo who?

I didn’t mean to make you cry.

Sure, it gets a chuckle out of you, and then you move on with your life. This joke is more forgettable than the name of the person who just introduced themselves. Shouldn’t a good joke stick so that you can tell it to your friend and stare at them like a psychopath to see their reaction, that is, if you don’t mess up the delivery? That being said, here’s another one: 

  • Knock, knock?
  • Who’s there?
  • Dwayne.
  • Dwayne who?

Dwayne the bathtub! I’m dwowning!

Now, the first thought that might pop up in your mind after reading this is, who the hell drowns in a bathtub? Second: how lukewarm the joke is (just like the water this person is hopefully drowning in). So that raises the question: if the joke is this bad, why is this format still adored all over the world?

Well, it comes down to two things again. Firstly, how versatile the format is. You can spin out an endless number of jokes with different punchlines, addressing different scenarios, ranging from mildly clever to incredibly terrible. Secondly, it is nothing short of coworker humor. Unlike dead baby jokes (which I absolutely love), it does not offend anyone. You can tell it to your father-in-law or your first date (ideally not back-to-back, and definitely not in that order) to break the silence or test the waters.

This makes the knock-knock format the undisputed king of jokes. 

Yes, it is silly. It is predictable, often terrible, and rarely unforgettable. And yet, it has survived Shakespearean stages, economic collapse, newspaper columns, awkward family dinners, and first dates that never got a second one. 

It simply endured because it’s easy. Easy to tell, easy to understand, easy to share. It asks nothing of you except two words: “Who’s there?” And in return, it gives you a small moment of connection, however fleeting.

Maybe that’s the actual reason it refuses to die. So, until we move onto a better format, let’s keep knocking.

Credits

Vikram
Shah

Editor

Supriya
Nair

Producer

Akshaya
Zachariah

Illustrator

Amal
Shiyas

Assistant Editor

Medha
Venkat

Copy Editor