Most comics think bombing teaches you more than killing. They're wrong — but not for the reason you'd expect.
The real problem isn't which experience is more valuable. It's that most comedians extract the wrong lessons from both.
I've watched this pattern from the venue side for years. A comic bombs on a Tuesday showcase, spends the next week rewriting their entire set, then wonders why their Thursday spot feels disjointed. Another comic kills at a weekend show, assumes their material is locked, then can't figure out why the same set dies at a different room two weeks later.
Both comics made the same mistake: they trusted their emotional response to the set instead of building a system for understanding what actually happened.
The Problem With How You Process Sets
Here's what most comics do after bombing: they replay the silence in their head, feel the shame, and start changing things. The jokes that got nothing? Cut. The bit that felt awkward? Rewritten. The experimental closer? Gone.
Killing distorts your perception in the opposite direction: it makes everything feel right. When a set destroys, you don't naturally ask which laughs were earned and which were given.
Here's what most comics do after killing: they replay the laughs, feel the validation, and assume the work is done. The setup that got a huge response? Must be perfect. The crowd work that landed? Proof they've got it figured out. The energy in the room? Obviously their doing.
Both responses feel productive. Neither one is.
The comic who bombs is making changes based on pain, not data. The comic who kills is making assumptions based on pleasure, not evidence. And both are building their careers on a foundation of misread signals.
