How did we become so sarcastic?

When did sarcasm become a good thing?

Scottish philosopher Thomas Carlyle described sarcasm as "the language of the devil." And the always quotable Oscar Wilde called it the "lowest form of humor."

But we're now so awash in snide comments and snarky remarks that it's become hip to brag about how sarcastic you are. How else to explain online dating profiles where would-be suitors tout their "sarcastic wit" as an asset or describe themselves as being "fluent in sarcasm." Or the multitude of T-shirts and coffee mugs where you can advertise to the world, "Sarcasm is my love language," or "I'll stop being sarcastic when you stop being stupid" or "Sarcasm: It's how I hug."

Saying you're sarcastic now translates to mean you're witty, sharp, cool, above the crowd. Despite its caustic nature, sarcasm might be a marker of higher-level thinking or even foster creativity. But some consider it disrespectful, a hurtful form of communication and the language of bullies.

Maybe television is to blame. A standard gag in many sitcoms involves a sharp-tongued character — Carla in "Cheers" or Chandler in "Friends" — who makes an acerbic remark. Cue the laugh track when the clueless butt of the joke — Woody or Joey — doesn't get the sarcasm.

Maybe social media is to blame. Sarcasm has been described in a Harvard publication as "the lingua franca of the internet." According to a Cornell University study, test subjects were five times more sarcastic when a conversation was conducted over a computer chat program compared with a face-to-face encounter.

Researcher Jeffrey Hancock suggests that sarcasm soars when you're interacting anonymously behind a keyboard because you're less concerned with being polite and making a good impression than in a real-life interaction. It also may be easier to be sarcastic when you're typing as opposed to talking because you can take more time to craft the perfect stinging gibe before hitting "Send."

The Defense Department's Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency enlisted researchers from the University of Central Florida to create an "AI-enabled 'sarcasm detector,' " testing the device on a database of Twitter remarks, comments on Reddit forums and news headlines from the Onion and HuffPost.

Likewise, the Secret Service sought software to help monitor social networks that included the ability to detect sarcasm in real time.

It sounds like a joke. (And a sarcasm detector did appear in an episode of "The Simpsons": "Sarcasm detector? That's a reeeel useful invention," observed one character.)

But sarcasm detectors also could have useful commercial applications, according to the Defense Department's research think tank: "Understanding the sentiment of online conversations can help businesses process customer feedback and gather insights to improve their marketing efforts."

In other words, if someone tweets "Thanks, Delta, for the great customer service! Our flight was only delayed for 17 hours," it's important for the company to understand that this was not a positive review.

It takes real intelligence — artificial or not — to pick up on sarcasm because it's a tricky linguistic device: a sort-of-true lie, an explicit insincerity.

When you say something like, "Well, excuuuuse me!" your intended meaning is the exact opposite of those words, and you want your listener to understand you're being insincere.

That requires a higher level of thinking by the recipient of sarcasm. The hearer has to have an understanding of the snarky person's mind-set to see the opposite meaning behind the literal message: My heart bleeds for you = I don't give a rip.

That extra work it takes to understand a sarcastic statement may explain why researchers see more complex brain activity when they scan the brains of test subjects reading sarcastic comments compared with when they read sincere statements. Or why the inability to understand sarcasm may be an early warning of certain types of dementia.

It also may be why research subjects who participated in a sarcastic conversation did better afterwards on creativity tests, according to the results of another experiment.

Describing the experiment in an article in Scientific American called "The Surprising Benefits of Sarcasm," Gino provides the rest of Oscar Wilde's quip about sarcasm: "Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit but the highest form of intelligence."

Hostility as humor

That acrid wittiness, however, comes with a price.

Unlike irony or some other forms of humor, sarcasm typically mocks or ridicules someone else. It is "hostility disguised as humor" and the tool of the bully, according to psychologist Clifford Lazarus.

In his book, "Talk Is Cheap: Sarcasm, Alienation and the Evolution of Language," John Haiman, a former linguistics professor at Macalester College, called it "verbal aggression."

Some studies have shown that people perceive sarcastic remarks as more hurtful than direct criticism. It's not for nothing that the Greek root for sarcasm, sarkazein, originally meant "to tear flesh like a dog."

Despite the possible benefits of sarcasm as a catalyst for abstract thinking, the authors of the creativity study acknowledge that sarcasm is "a double-edged sword" that can foster conflict and harm communication because it so often expresses "the poisonous sting of contempt."

Gino and her colleagues advise using sarcasm only among trusted associates who won't report you to HR.

Juliet Mitchell's advice is to give it up altogether.

"Wit and sarcasm are different," said the St. Paul etiquette expert and author. "Sarcasm, to me, is never acceptable. Conveying a little contempt? Who wants that?"

She suggests that the sincerity of someone like Fred Rogers should be our model. Can anyone imagine Mr. Rogers saying "Nice job" to a kid who just spilled some milk, or "Walk much?" to a child who tripped?