Tonight at 9 p.m. Eastern, a new episode of the TV show Hacks will be available to stream on Max. At the heart of the show is an employer-employee relationship, which got culture writer JP Mangalindan thinking: Are there lessons here that could apply to real-world business? (Minor spoilers ahead if you’re not caught up.) Plus: A key slice of the workforce is disappearing Trump’s immigration crackdown, and AI slop can make it seem like humans are losing ground on the internet. If this email was forwarded to you, click here to sign up. As one of the most lauded comedies on TV today, Hacks offers a compelling look at the business of comedy, a competitive, volatile industry where a standup performance can mean the difference between widespread acclaim or fumbling toward obscurity. The Max original series, now in its fourth season, explores the complex relationship between legendary comic Deborah Vance (Jean Smart) and struggling young writer Ava Daniels (Hannah Einbinder). The pair lift each other up in their best moments: Ava helps Deborah rediscover her comedic mojo and reach new heights of success, while Deborah becomes a mentor, a creative soulmate, true friend and occasional worst enemy in the process. Wedged in between their wacky moments together are lessons that arguably apply to business in general. Like the concept of A/B testing—a comic’s material is rigorously tested and adjusted based on audience reactions. Jokes are fine-tuned, sometimes swapped out for “alts,” or alternatives, when the need arises. For those of us not in comedy, here are other lessons I’ve taken from the show about being successful in business: Team-building can be schmaltzy, but it works: Developing bonds with new colleagues, as Deborah learned with her writing team on a wild Las Vegas weekend this season, yielded better productivity and results. Employers and teams needn’t go to the lengths Deborah and Ava did to have the writers bond—recreational drugs and a strip club visit landed them in hot water with human resources, after all—but activities where colleagues can find commonalities will foster trust and creativity in the medium-to-long term. Ava (Einbinder, in blue) and Deborah (Smart, wearing sunglasses) got into a bit of trouble over their Las Vegas writers’ retreat. Photographer: Kenny Laubbacher/Max You have to cater to your audience: Whether the jokes are lobbed at the boozy audience of a Vegas casino or dropped at a star-studded comedy roast matters. When Deborah failed to shelve her ego and play to her audience for a stand-up gig aboard a lesbian cruise in Season 2, she bombed so thoroughly she was kicked off the boat. At a later stop on her standup tour, she struck a balance between taking jabs at others and finding humor in the absurdity of her own life, and she connected with people. Bet on yourself: Instead of shopping her one-night-only comedy special to TV networks right off the bat in Season 2, Deborah took an entrepreneurial approach: She self-funded the special, booked the venue, hired a director and pitched physical and digital copies of the special to fans during a QVC appearance. Selling 50,000 copies shored up interest with networks and ignited a bidding war, showing that if one has a solid plan, exhibits self-confidence, and believes in their decisions and potential for success, the risk can pay off. Their win can be yours too: When Deborah took that gamble with her special, her agent Jimmy (Paul W. Downs) came into conflict with a disapproving boss. Jimmy quit in his own Jerry Maguire moment, and his assistant, Kayla (Megan Stalter), pledged to come along, despite that disapproving boss being her dad. Deborah’s success gave Jimmy the boost he needed to successfully start his own business. He paid it forward, recognizing Kayla’s chops and making her a business partner at the end of Season 3. Failure can be just the beginning: During her late-night show’s premiere, Deborah pointed out to viewers how difficult the comedy business can be. This, after all, wasn’t her first time on network TV. “I tried being a host in the 1970s. It didn’t work out, so this is my second act,” she said. “Second act is code for, ‘No one wanted to hire me for 40 years, but I refused to die until they gave me what I wanted.’” Whether Deborah’s show succeeds or not—it’s too early to tell if booking a popular dance influencer will goose ratings, for one—Hacks suggests there’s a lesson often overlooked in our own quest for professional success and satisfaction, in which failure along the way is almost inevitable. With enough grit, there’s a second act for everyone. |