“Should an orator want to stir up laughter?” Ms. Bessler asked in her thesis. “The answer is a fairly resounding yes.”

Additional gems from the paper, written to complete a degree in political science, include:

“Humor can be used as a political weapon: to attack opponents, inoculate oneself from criticism, establish one’s good humor and more. Through comedy and wit, a politician can reduce audience scrutiny of arguments by appealing to their emotions and allowing them to discount any messages they might disagree with as ‘just a joke.’”

Sitting with her daughter over plates of dumplings and sweet potato fries before her “Daily Show” appearance, Ms. Klobuchar spoke in great detail about the way she thinks about her own humor and power.

Do not call it “mom humor,” a term Ms. Klobuchar disdains because, she said, it implies she is not actually funny. Never mind the fact that Ms. Klobuchar poked fun at her own mothering during a nationally televised debate, describing herself “meddling” in her daughter’s weekend social life. “In my mind as a mom, it’s not lame at all,” she quipped.

(As for “dad humor” — Ms. Klobuchar said that while her husband, John Bessler, is constantly trying out new jokes and offering her new material, nine out of every 10 of his attempts are more likely to make her laugh at him, rather than with him.)

Ms. Klobuchar’s brand of comedy is a clean, “aw, shucks” approach that conveys her own background as a Midwesterner, a mom and a slightly exasperated politician. She laughs easily, at herself and others , and can recall dozens of her successful zingers.

At a campaign stop in Virginia last week, she recounted her personal favorite: On her first Senate race, scrounging to find money any way she could, she started calling up men she once dated.