Nevertheless, I was optimistic about Trevor Noah from the beginning. His few appearances on the show hadn’t been especially noteworthy, and he may have made some less than stellar jokes in the past — but the promise of the perspective shift to someone who was both not white, and not even American, was truly exciting.

His first show was admirable, and showed a lot of promise. After months wondering if he was ready to fill some of the biggest shoes in late night, Trevor seemed to be a natural. His delivery was arguably smoother than Jon’s, he knew how to roll with a bad joke or two comfortably, and he looked absolutely giddy to be sitting behind the desk. It seemed only natural that with a few months at the helm, the show would be off in new and exciting directions.

Eventually though, I realized I wasn’t watching Trevor anymore. I wasn’t craving his voice when the latest infuriating news story popped up. While segments like Trump as African dictator and White ISIS bubbled up to viral relevance, the vast majority of Noah’s output was — frankly — bland.

Watching any one clip of Trevor, it’s not immediately clear what isn’t working:

Rubio vs. Christie begins at 2:50

It’s a solid handling of the biggest news story out of the debate: Rubio’s robo-gaffe. But take a look at how Jon handles a similar situation, in the wake of Rick Perry’s classic “Oops”:

To be fair to Trevor, I’m comparing a senior Stewart with freshman Noah. It’s hardly fair to hold Trevor to those lofty standards. But the reality is that we’re already making these comparisons, and these clips demonstrate some of what Noah and his writers are missing right now.

Trevor walks us through Rubio’s slip up beautifully, delivering genuine glee at Rubio’s inability to stray from his stump speech. But that’s about all he does. It’s not a vastly more comedic or specific take on the moment than a snarky internet recap could manage. The biggest laugh of the clip, by far, is from a mostly empty reference to a Beyonce line.

Jon, presented with the perfect layup of the Rick Perry gaffe, basks in anticipation of dissecting the moment. He presents the — correct — thesis that Mitt Romney is the presumptive nominee after the debate, and proceeds to swiftly take down every other candidate on the stage. All the while, Jon promises the “oops" is coming, and goes as far as to mimic Perry’s forgetfulness three times during the segment. The energy of this bit is infectious, it communicates worthwhile and valid points about the candidates, and it’s packed with jokes — many of which Jon breezes through frenetically. He’s our friend at the bar throwing out the next funny thing that flies into his head. When the infamous Perry clip finally arrives, Jon’s revved the audience up to the point that they don’t even need his cry of “Are you not entertained?!” There’s no climactic “joke” that is a structural pillar to Jon’s bit, the entire piece is a comedic whole.

And while Jon’s words are written, he never fails to convey the furious, messy heart at the core of his monologue. The segment is propelled forward by the relatable schadenfreude that consumes Stewart. His other, more fiery monologues similarly fed off the audience’s shared feelings of frustration and helplessness. It felt like Jon had to go out there and yell about the bullshit of the world, because many of us felt the same urge. Having someone smarter and funnier than us channeling those same frustrations on TV was therapy for those who believed public discourse had lost all sanity.