Life’s Work: An Interview with Trevor Noah

As a biracial kid growing up in apartheid-era South Africa, Noah learned to confront political injustice by poking fun at it. Now, at age 34, he brings that same sensibility to a world-touring stand-up act and a gig hosting the Daily Show —a role he took over from Jon Stewart and quickly made his own. HBR: Why did you become a comedian? Noah: I always felt an innate joy making people laugh. I always loved performing. And then somebody paid me to do it—as a profession. But I loved it before I earned any money, so I think it was always going to be my natural course. How did your upbringing affect the way you approached your career? For any comedian, your life informs your point of view, the way you see the world. My comedy comes through the prism of race or class, because those are two worlds that collided for me growing up. And I guess that’s served me well, because those themes cross over countries and continents. We’re all still dealing with those issues today. You achieved fame in your home country relatively quickly. What prompted you to leave that behind and move to the United States? South Africa is a wonderful place to begin a comedy career, but it’s a small country. At the time we’re talking about—though it’s changed dramatically in the years since—there was only so much you could do, only so many spaces to perform. My goal was to do as much comedy as I could, and I’d always dreamed of performing elsewhere in the world. So I went to Australia, the UK, Europe. But the one place that has a truly sustainable stand-up comedy market is the United States. It’s where you can do comedy full-time, as your job and as your life. Was that jump to a much bigger, more competitive market scary? Scary in a good way. Like any great challenge in life, there was the right combination of fear and excitement. I knew that it might not work, but why try something that will definitely work? And then you landed at The Daily Show. How did that happen? Jon Stewart and the show’s executives had watched my comedy and liked what they’d seen. Jon reached out and told me to keep in touch, and that’s what I did. I was doing shows in New York, which gave me ample opportunity to hang out with the team and get that relationship kicked off; over time I created a few pieces and we worked on making me part of the show. Then, when Jon left and they needed a new host, my name got thrown into the hat. When Comedy Central was making that big succession decision, did you advocate for yourself? Not at all. Because I knew I was a dark horse, there was no feeling of stress attached to the decision. I never believed the job was mine or that I deserved it, and I didn’t anticipate getting it, which helps with any position in life. If you don’t think it’s yours, you just put your best foot forward and prepare for the next opportunity that might come. Luckily, in this case I didn’t have to wait. The Daily Show was it. Did you have any hesitation about taking the job? You had big shoes to fill. If you don’t have doubts about a challenge like that, you’re extremely arrogant or extremely stupid, I would think. But if I’d let my doubts stop me from exploring the best opportunities, I wouldn’t have gotten to where I have in my life. So I just had to buckle down and give it my best shot. Having Jon Stewart’s endorsement and support was all I could hope for, and with him in my corner, I was ready to see what would happen. How did you manage the transition? The first step was to learn as much as possible. I was lucky in that I inherited many experienced writers and creators and directors who could infuse my head with decades of knowledge in a short space of time. I never thought that I knew anything coming into the show. I knew that I had a point of view that was unique in the late-night space. But I didn’t take for granted that I was surrounded by people who’d been making a highly successful show for a long time. So all I did was learn and listen and grow with the team. I was the head of the show but in no way trying to be the boss. Over time, as I’ve become more comfortable, I’ve taken more of the reins, and now we all guide the show together. How does that collaboration work? And how does it differ from your own individual creative process? When creating stand-up, I have as much time as I need. I’m not rushing. I can work completely within the confines of my own mind. When you’re making a daily show, there’s a deadline. Your content—the news—is before you, and you have to figure out how to create something that’s both entertaining and informative by the time you record the show for that evening. We all enjoy comedy and commenting on the news and sharing that process. And then we try to translate those conversations to a TV show. What’s a typical day like? We meet in the morning, but we’ve already spoken before then, because the news cycle is nonstop. We’re chatting the night before, chatting first thing, so when we get in, we already have a sense of what we think the day’s news is going to be. Then we watch news together in a room. We all make jokes about it. We figure out what angles and takes we might approach from. We try to solidify our point of view. From there, it’s about me putting my stamp on it and getting it to a place where it’s as original as it can be—because there are now five or six shows dealing with similar material. Then we write together, and people bolster the scripts. Then we rehearse, and finish up with some rewriting touches, and then we record. The pace of production must be grueling. How do you prevent burnout, both for yourself and for your team? First, by creating an environment where it feels less like you’re working and more like you’re having fun with a purpose. Second, by building up your resilience, getting used to the rhythm and intensity of the news, figuring out processes that maximize your outputs through the day and also give you time to relax. You need to know when and how to focus on the work and when and how to breathe. It must be tough to make a show in such a tight time frame. Yes, but it’s also liberating. It has taught me to focus on letting things go as much as on making them perfect. Think of the greatest painters. Even they had to stop at some point, you know? When the Catholic Church told Michelangelo, “We need it by this day,” he had to put down his brushes. And that’s really something: to understand that you can create only within the time you have. Some days you will think it’s perfect. Some days you won’t. It’s difficult initially, but you just try, over and over, to make it as good as you can every single day and aim for consistency more than anything else. That becomes the ultimate goal, as opposed to moments of brilliance. The team has changed since you took over. What do you look for in new hires? I’m trying to find people who will give us a competitive advantage in some way, shape, or form—people with a unique point of view who are hungry and creative. I don’t need people to think exactly as I do politically, but it’s nice if they at least share my sense of comedy and vision about how to make a good television show. I want to create a room that’s diverse in its thoughts, backgrounds, and skill sets so that we protect ourselves from making a show that’s homogenous and one-dimensional and instead connect with as many different audiences as possible. Given the demands of the show, why have you continued to also do stand-up? I look at my routine as something I create over time to complement what I’m doing on The Daily Show. In one aspect of my life, I have an immediate release, and then in another, I have a more long-term project that I’m always working on with a more measured approach. Stand-up is also different because I have only that one hour with that audience on that day. Those people don’t have an opportunity to come back and see me the way the TV audience does. Do you do any special prep before taking the stage or taping a show? I try to keep it casual. I’ll kick a soccer ball around with my crew. I’ll talk about the day and make jokes with my friends. I’m trying to maintain the same level of authenticity offstage and onstage. I don’t want to switch into a character or a caricature of myself. I want to perform, yes, but also to maintain who I am and who I’m trying to be. I keep it as chill as possible so that when I come out, people are getting as authentic a Trevor as I can give them. What’s the secret to quickly building rapport with an audience? I think the most important thing is to instantly give them a sense of who you are and how you feel in that moment. If a speaker is nervous and tells the audience that, people immediately contextualize it and respond accordingly. If a performer is in a good mood or feeling wild and crazy and says so, I’ve found, the crowd will be good at matching that energy. So for me, the rapport is built by a genuineness conveyed as quickly as possible. As someone who’s had so much success so young, how are you thinking about the rest of your career? I don’t think too hard about that, because it can become a bit overwhelming. I try not to live too far into the future or get too stressed about today. I have long-term projects, but for the most part, to the best of my ability, I focus on what I’m doing right now. In sports they always say, “Keep your eye on the ball until it’s in your hands or at your feet, and from there, make your next move.” So I’d say I spend 90% of my time trying to perfect what I’m supposed to be doing today or tomorrow, and 10% of my time thinking about what the next move is.

Life’s Work: An Interview with Trevor Noah

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