Sometime last year, “Saturday Night Live” stirred up controversy with a skit that depicted ISIS militants pitching their terrorist organization to potential investors in a parody of the ABC reality series “Shark Tank.” The militants ask for funding by showing maps of their land holdings and explaining their social media strategy. But their proposal is undermined by confusion over whether to be called ISIS or ISIL, and they are subsequently turned away for “lacking a unified brand.”

Consequently, this launched a rapid fire of tweets criticizing the show and its host, Chris Rock, for being insensitive and cringingly unfunny. Yet the show was apparently unfazed, as it recently aired another ISIS sketch. This time it spoofed a tear-inducing Toyota commercial from the Super Bowl in which a dad drops off his daughter to join the army. The “SNL” parody depicts the dad dropping off his daughter, played by Dakota Johnson, to join ISIS. It begins in a typical fashion, with the father playfully suggesting she stay home and do another year of high school. This bittersweet good-bye is played out until the misty-eyed dad says, “You be careful, okay?” to which his daughter replies, “Dad, it’s just ISIS.” She then hops onto a truck bearing the ISIS flag, grabs a machine gun, and waves to her father, who tearfully waves back. The clip ends with the slogan “ISIS. We’ll take it from here, Dad.” Unsurprisingly, this didn’t sit well with the world of social media, with some users calling American humor offensive and tasteless.

These sketches were viewed as controversial, yet when compared to French satire, which recent events have directed attention to, they seem quite tame. Of course, many have defended “SNL,” suggesting that those who took offense “need to get a life” and “learn to take a joke” and the writer of the sketch himself said that “Freedom to mock is our greatest weapon.” The sharp dichotomy between American and French satire is not a matter of cowardice or hostility; it is one of intentions and culture.

American satire has had a relatively short life, introduced in the ’50s with stand-up comedy but never really gripping the nation until it began on television later in the century. Now, American satire mainly takes the form of cartoons and fake news shows, both of which rarely target controversial topics. One reason for this is the commercial culture of the U.S. Almost every TV network and news outlet has sponsors and advertisers who provide funding – and have a say in what can and cannot be said.

Political satirist John Oliver explains the advantages of being on an ad-free network, saying, “I’m very aware that we’re extremely lucky here at HBO. We don’t have advertisers. So if I want to say, for instance, that Cadbury Cream Eggs are filled with dolphin sperm, or that Old Navy clothing makes you look like a tacky murderer, or that Snickers only satisfy you for about eight minutes and then makes you hate yourself for the rest of the day, I can. I can do all of those things.” Unfortunately, that freedom is very rare, as the overwhelming majority of American news outlets and television stations are dependent on advertisers. The French satirical magazine Charlie Hebdo, on the other hand, had next to none, which is why it always struggled financially but still had the freedom to say whatever it wanted.

French satire aims to show that freedom of expression should be stronger than intimidation and is a way to wage war against the enemy. By contrast, American satire aims to generate conversation about topics. The small but significant difference is the goal each type of satire has. French satire is used as a weapon to fight for freedom of expression and is an active attack on a target, whereas American satire is more of a tap on the shoulder, a reminder that something is happening that can’t be ignored.

France’s weapon-like wielding of satire is unsurprising, as it was created in a war-like situation. Indeed, France has had a long history of satire, a relationship that predates the French Revolution. Satirists mocked the monarchy’s lavish lifestyles and exaggerated their appearances, particularly that of Marie Antoinette, who was a popular target of writers. Laws that tried to prevent mockery of royalty only aggravated the situation, as the laws themselves became targets and the content became more obscene. The cartoonists’ undignified depictions of French royalty in the eighteenth century lessened the prestige of the monarchy, helping pave the way for revolution. Biting satire is a tradition ingrained in French culture and history.

Interestingly, this tradition of satire has been upheld for hundreds of years and has only recently sparked violent backlashes. This is because, like the U.S., each country has its own intentions and ideas of what satire should be. For example, in Europe and the Middle East, people take cartoons dead seriously; in the U.S., they’re considered entertainment. Before, each country’s satire stayed in its own area. But with the introduction of social media and the Internet, all these satirical pieces and their ideologies are making their way around the world.

Unsurprisingly, some of these ideas will clash and result in conflict – just as Charlie Hebdo’s ideologies clashed with Islamic extremists in the Middle East. But this leaking of ideas and opinions between the world’s cultures is not necessarily a bad thing. In expressing our outrage, we clarify what we value and what we deplore; sometimes, listening to others, we even change our minds. In other words, letting our ideologies leak out into the world can result in conflicts, but it’s important not to let them undermine our ideas, which define who we are. Instead, we should continue putting them out there and standing for what we believe, while keeping an open mind that’s not afraid to change.