Humour, precisely because of its provocative nature, often tests the boundaries of that freedom. However, attempts to restrict it under the pretext of protecting individual sensitivities or specific groups are steadily eroding this fundamental right. Recent cases in Portugal, Brazil and across Europe demonstrate how the line between satire and crime is increasingly blurred.

In Portugal, the lawsuit brought against comedian Joana Marques by the brothers Nelson and Sérgio Rosado, from the music duo Anjos, illustrates this tension well. Known for her biting satire in the radio show Extremamente Desagradável, Joana is facing legal action over a satirical video released in 2022, which mocked the duo’s rendition of the national anthem during the MotoGP Grand Prix in Portimão. The plaintiffs claim the video was “manipulated” and seriously damaged their image, demanding over €1.1 million in compensation. The third hearing, held on 30 June 2025, featured testimony from comedians Ricardo Araújo Pereira and Fernando Alvim, who defended free speech and the satirical nature of the video. According to Pereira, the Anjos “are more hurt than harmed.” The next hearing is set for 11 July, when Joana Marques herself is expected to testify. Though civil in nature, the case reflects a growing culture of intolerance towards discomfort, which threatens the right to satirise public figures.

In Brazil, the conviction of comedian Léo Lins is an even more troubling example. Sentenced to over eight years in prison for jokes deemed discriminatory, Léo Lins was prosecuted under Law 14.532/23 – informally dubbed the “anti-joke law” – which increases penalties when discrimination allegedly occurs in a humorous context. Judge Barbara de Lima Iseppi ruled that the content promoted “verbal violence” and “intolerance” against minorities. However, the decision overlooks a basic legal principle: the distinction between animus jocandi (humorous intent) and animus discriminandi (intent to discriminate). Punishing humour based on the audience’s subjective reaction, without proving intent, is a deviation from the rule of law and sets a dangerous precedent for the criminalisation of artistic expression.

In Europe, the assault on freedom of expression began with centralising efforts by the European Union. A proposal to expand the definition of “hate speech” by establishing it as a euro-crime, that is, a criminal offence common to all member states, failed due to lack of consensus. Yet the drive to control speech persisted. In response, Brussels advanced the Digital Services Act (DSA), a regulation that, under the pretext of combating “illegal content,” places growing pressure on digital platforms and individual users to monitor, remove and justify potentially offensive material. While it does not directly criminalise speech, the DSA introduces a regime of preventive censorship, outsourcing moral and legal judgement to private companies. This is censorship by regulatory means, technocratic and silent, but no less dangerous for it.

At national level, examples continue to multiply. In Spain, rapper Pablo Hasél was imprisoned in 2021 over lyrics and tweets deemed offensive to the monarchy and security forces, under laws penalising “glorification of terrorism” and “insult to the Crown.” His arrest sparked protests but also confirmed a trend of criminalising dissenting art. In the United Kingdom, YouTuber Carl Benjamin (known as Sargon of Akkad) faced police investigations in 2019 over satirical comments, under accusations of “hate speech.” Although he was not imprisoned, the episode illustrates how the subjective nature of “offence” can be weaponised to intimidate content creators.

From a liberal perspective, humour, even when it may be considered morally questionable from someone’s point of view, should not be subject to legal limits. As John Stuart Mill argued, freedom of expression must protect even those ideas we deem wrong, offensive or dangerous. British comedian Ricky Gervais put it plainly: “How arrogant do you have to be to think you’ll never be offended in your life?” In a pluralistic society, being offended is inevitable. Seeking to eliminate that possibility through censorship, whether state, judicial or social, is a direct attack on liberty.

The idea that “no one should be offended” is an emotional and political trap. Offence is, by its nature, subjective. The true antidote to offensive humour is not silence, but criticism, rebuttal or simply the choice to ignore it. When the state and society accept that words – however uncomfortable – justify imprisonment, fines or million-euro lawsuits, the result is the erosion of free thought. Humour, as a form of art and tool of social critique, must be protected precisely because it provokes. To defend comedians like Léo Lins or Joana Marques is not necessarily to endorse their content, but to uphold the principle of liberty. The alternative is a future in which everyone is afraid to speak, and a democracy without freedom of expression is merely an illusion.


Author

Cláudia Nunes - Presidente of LOLA Portugal | Fellow Young Voices Europe."

Cláudia Nunes