You’ve seen the face. It’s that perfectly symmetrical, slightly smug, Harvard-educated grin that seems to radiate a specific kind of privilege. It’s a face that Michael Che once joked looks like "the guy in the movie who closes the summer camp." But how did Colin Jost, a guy who started as a behind-the-scenes writer, end up becoming the biggest running gag on Saturday Night Live?
It wasn’t an accident.
Honestly, the transformation of Colin Jost from a stiff news anchor into a beloved comedic victim is one of the smartest long-game moves in late-night history. He didn't just stumble into being a punchline. He leaned into it until the joke became his entire brand.
The Early Days of "Who Is This Guy?"
When Jost first took over the Weekend Update desk in 2014, things were... rocky. Replacing Seth Meyers is a nightmare task for anyone. Meyers was sharp, polished, and had that "cool older brother" vibe. Jost, by comparison, felt like a high school valedictorian who had wandered onto the wrong set.
People hated him. Well, maybe "hate" is a strong word, but the internet was definitely not kind. Twitter users called him "bland," "robotic," and "vanilla." He was the quintessential straight white man in a position of power, and in the mid-2010s, that made him an easy target. He had the Staten Island pedigree, the Ivy League degree, and a look that screamed "my father will hear about this."
The turning point wasn't a better monologue or a flashy impression. It was the realization that he could stop fighting the "smug" label and start using it.
The "Punchable Face" Strategy
Most celebrities spend thousands of dollars on PR to make themselves look more relatable. Jost did the opposite. He titled his 2020 memoir A Very Punchable Face. Basically, he looked at the most common insult hurled his way and said, "Yeah, you're right. Let's make some money off it."
👉 See also: Diego Klattenhoff Movies and TV Shows: Why He’s the Best Actor You Keep Forgetting You Know
That self-awareness changed everything.
It’s hard to bully someone who is already hitting themselves. By acknowledging that he looks like a wealthy villain from a 1980s teen comedy, he took the power away from his critics. He became the "straight man" in the classic comedic sense—the stable force that everyone else gets to bounce their insanity off of.
The Michael Che Factor
You can't talk about how Colin Jost became a joke without mentioning Michael Che. The two are actual friends in real life, which is the only reason their "Joke Swap" segments work. If they actually hated each other, those bits would be a human resources nightmare.
Instead, they’re legendary.
Every year, Che writes the most horrific, offensive, and socially career-ending jokes possible for Jost to read live on air. Because the audience knows Jost didn't write them, they aren't mad at him—they’re laughing at his visible soul-crushing terror.
- The Race Card: Che frequently forces Jost to read jokes that make him sound like a 1950s segregationist.
- The Wife Jokes: No one is safe, including Jost’s wife, Scarlett Johansson. Che has penned countless gags about her career and their marriage, forcing Colin to deliver them while looking directly into the camera.
- The "Dr. Hattie Davis" Incident: In a particularly brutal 2020 segment, Che brought out a fictional civil rights activist to sit next to Jost while he read racist jokes. The look on Jost's face wasn't acting. It was genuine panic.
This dynamic turned Jost into a sympathetic figure. We aren't laughing at his jokes; we're laughing at his suffering. And weirdly, that makes us like him.
✨ Don't miss: Did Mac Miller Like Donald Trump? What Really Happened Between the Rapper and the President
Why the "Joke" Label Actually Saved His Career
In the 2026 landscape of comedy, being a "serious" news anchor on a sketch show is a dead end. The world is too chaotic for a traditional "straight" take on the news. By becoming a joke, Jost found a way to stay relevant for over a decade. He is now the longest-serving Weekend Update anchor in the show's 50-year history, surpassing Seth Meyers in 2021.
Think about the guests he interacts with. Whether it’s Sarah Sherman (Sarah Squirm) screaming in his ear or Bowen Yang’s "Iceberg That Sank the Titanic" insulting his intelligence, the formula is always the same: Colin is the representative of the "old guard" who gets dismantled by the "new weird."
He’s the foil. He’s the punching bag. And he’s incredibly good at it.
The Evolution of the Punchline
It’s not just about being the victim anymore. Jost has mastered the "smirking realization." It’s that moment where he delivers a punchline, hears the audience groan, and then gives a tiny, pained look to the side. It says, I know. I’m the worst. Can we move on?
That micro-expression is the secret sauce. It bridges the gap between the character of "Colin Jost: Smug Anchor" and the real "Colin Jost: Comedian."
Breaking Down the Perception
Is Colin Jost actually the person the jokes suggest he is? Probably not.
🔗 Read more: Despicable Me 2 Edith: Why the Middle Child is Secretly the Best Part of the Movie
His mother was the chief medical officer of the New York City Fire Department. His father was a teacher. He grew up taking the ferry and the subway, not being chauffeured in a limo. But in the world of SNL, the truth matters less than the trope.
The trope of the "privileged white guy" is a useful tool for a show that needs to punch up. When Michael Che roasts him for being "basic" or "out of touch," it allows the show to address issues of race, class, and gender without feeling like a lecture. Jost provides the target, and Che provides the arrows.
It’s a symbiotic relationship that has kept Weekend Update at the center of the cultural conversation long after other late-night segments have faded into TikTok obscurity.
What We Can Learn From the Jost Method
There is actually a pretty solid life lesson buried in the joke swaps and the "punchable face" memes. Jost survived—and thrived—by leaning into his weaknesses rather than hiding them.
- Radical Transparency: If people are going to make fun of you anyway, you might as well join in. It kills the sting.
- Partnership Matters: He wouldn't be half as funny without a partner like Che who can push him to the edge.
- Longevity Requires Evolution: If he had stayed the "serious" anchor from 2014, he would have been replaced years ago.
So, how did Colin Jost become a joke? He did it by choice. He looked at the landscape of modern comedy and realized that the guy sitting behind the desk didn't need to be the smartest person in the room—he just needed to be the one willing to take the hit.
If you want to understand the "Jost Method" for yourself, watch the Season 50 finale's Joke Swap. Pay attention to his eyes. He’s terrified, he’s cringing, and he’s probably wondering if he’ll be divorced by Monday. But he’s also smiling. Because at the end of the day, being the joke is the best job he’s ever had.
If you're interested in how this style of "victim-based" humor compares to past SNL eras, your next step is to look up the "Point/Counterpoint" segments from the late 70s. You'll see that while the faces change, the art of the comedic insult is a long-standing tradition at 30 Rock. You should also check out Michael Che's stand-up specials to see how the "bully" persona he uses on Jost translates to a solo stage. It's a masterclass in tone.