Being funny, it turns out, is like being a bank. It’s a confidence trick. As long as everyone believes in you, you are fine.

Davis likens comedy to banking to stress how both depend on collective belief. A joke “works” not because it is objectively valuable in isolation, but because an audience grants the performer credit—attention, goodwill, and the assumption that a payoff is coming. That social trust functions like financial confidence: once it holds, small missteps are forgiven and the system stays stable; once it breaks, even solid material can “fail” as skepticism spreads. The line also hints at the precariousness of public performance and reputation: humor is a social contract, and the comedian’s authority is continually renewed (or withdrawn) by the crowd.