Every company has landmines. A restructure nobody wants named. A director who does not take teasing well. A product recall. A department that has had a rough year. The instinct is to write it all down and send a long list of bans.
That instinct is right. The execution is usually wrong. Briefs that read like a legal disclaimer produce sets that feel like one. The comedian retreats to safe, generic material, the room senses the caution, and you have paid for something that could have been performed at any company in Britain.
Here is how to protect the business without sanding the edges off the act.
Separate hard no-go from handle with care
Most briefs collapse two different things into one list. Split them.
- Hard no-go: subjects that must not be referenced at all. Live redundancies, an ongoing tribunal, a bereavement, an active investigation, a merger not yet announced to staff, a serious safety incident.
- Handle with care: subjects that can be touched with the right framing. The office move everyone moans about. The new expenses system. The department that always overruns. The CEO's cycling habit.
The second list is where the good material lives. If you dump it into the first list, you have handed over an evening of observational comedy about airports and supermarket self-checkouts.
Give the reason, not just the rule
"Do not mention the Manchester office" tells a comedian nothing useful. They will avoid the words and walk into the subject sideways.
"Do not mention the Manchester office, we closed it in March and forty people in this room used to work there" tells them exactly where the edge is. Now they can steer confidently instead of guessing. Professionals do not gossip about your brief. They use it to keep you safe.
The same applies to timing. A company in the middle of a formal consultation process needs different handling from one that finished restructuring eighteen months ago and can now laugh about it. Tell your act which one you are.
Name the individuals, and get their consent
Personal material about named people is the single most common source of post-event complaints. It is also, done well, the biggest laugh of the night.
So be specific. Who is fair game, who is off limits, and what about them. A managing director who has agreed in advance to being ribbed about their golf swing is a gift. A finance director who has not agreed to anything should not be mentioned. Ask, do not assume. "They will find it funny" is a judgement made by someone who is not the one being described.
Send raw material, not written jokes
Event organisers often send a list of in-jokes they would like used. The comedian will read them politely. Then they will write their own.
What actually helps: internal nicknames, the acronym everyone hates, the running joke about the coffee machine, the team that always wins the sales award, the phrase leadership overuses in every all-hands. Facts and texture. A good act turns those into something that lands. Pre-written punchlines from the marketing team rarely survive contact with a live room.
One approver, and send it early
Briefs that have been through five stakeholders arrive contradictory and late. Nominate one person who owns the content guidelines and can answer a question on the day.
Send it at least a fortnight out. Tailored material takes time to write and test. A list of restrictions arriving an hour before the set forces a comedian to strip out anything uncertain, which is precisely the outcome you were trying to avoid.
Route it through your agent
This is what a booking agency is for. We know which of our comedians thrive on a tight brief and which are better suited to a room with fewer constraints. We know who does crowd work and who does not go near it. We can tell you if your no-go list has quietly ruled out the entire reason you booked that act, while there is still time to change course.
What a good brief looks like
- Audience: size, seniority mix, whether partners or clients are present
- The year in one paragraph, good and bad
- Hard no-go list, with reasons
- Handle with care list
- Named individuals: approved and off limits
- Language expectations, stated plainly rather than implied
- Internal jargon and running jokes
- One contact, reachable on the day
That is one page. It is enough. Trust it, then let the comedian do the job you hired them for.
Frequently Asked Questions
What should a comedian's brief actually include for a corporate event?
One page covers it: audience size and seniority mix, whether partners or clients are in the room, the company's year summarised in a paragraph, a hard no-go list with reasons, a handle with care list, named individuals who are approved or off limits, plain language expectations, internal jargon and running jokes, and one contact who is reachable on the day. Anything longer usually contradicts itself. Send it at least a fortnight before the event so tailored material has time to be written and tested.
How far in advance should I send content guidelines to a comedian?
At least two weeks before the event. Tailored material takes time to write and test, and a comedian who receives restrictions an hour before the set will strip out anything uncertain to stay safe. That produces the generic, cautious performance most organisers are trying to avoid in the first place.
Should I explain why a topic is off limits, or just say no?
Always give the reason. "Do not mention the Manchester office" tells a comedian nothing, so they may avoid the words and still walk into the subject sideways. "Do not mention the Manchester office, we closed it in March and forty people in this room used to work there" shows them exactly where the edge is so they can steer confidently. Professional comedians use your brief to keep you safe, not as gossip.
Is it okay for a comedian to make jokes about named colleagues or senior leaders?
Only with consent obtained in advance. Personal material about named individuals is the most common source of post-event complaints, and also often the biggest laugh of the night, so specify who is fair game, who is off limits, and what about them. A managing director who has agreed to be ribbed about their golf swing is a gift; anyone who has not agreed to anything should not be mentioned. Ask them directly rather than assuming they will find it funny.
Should I send the comedian jokes I want them to use?
No. Pre-written punchlines from an internal team rarely survive contact with a live room, and the comedian will write their own regardless. Send raw material instead: internal nicknames, the acronym everyone hates, the running joke about the coffee machine, the phrase leadership overuses at every all-hands. Facts and texture are what a good act turns into material that lands.