What a couple of months it’s been for James Corden. I have to say his new Gavin and Stacey spin-off show, “Smithy Sucks Up To Sean Spicer And Then Makes Jokes About Harvey Weinstein”, is not my cup of tea: maybe it just needs a bit more Ruth Jones and a little bit less systemic sexism.

In a way, I’m shocked by the latest turn of events in Corden’s career – I would have thought if anyone was capable of handling the incredibly sensitive subject of Weinstein’s sexual assault allegations with grace and delicacy, it would have been the star of Lesbian Vampire Killers. If you haven’t watched the video of Corden at a charity gala in Los Angeles, don’t: just skip to the end where he desperately begs his stony-faced audience to laugh, squeaking out a gloriously pathetic “come on!”. It’s the comedy equivalent of Jeb Bush’s “Please clap” – the one moment of joy in what is otherwise a wholly depressing two minutes.

And then, just as surely as night follows day or an uncomfortable silence and groan follows a Horne and Corden sketch, came the apology, peppered with the hallmarks of insincerity synonymous with a 2017 scandal: “I am truly sorry for anyone offended” – as if the offence exists outside of and unconnected to his actions – and “that was never my intention” – as if it’s your fault you didn’t get the jokes. These lame protestations of contrition are so useless they might as well come as an eCard – a gif from a Confused.com advert of James Corden shrugging, with a Word Art animation reading “SORRY YOU GOT YOUR KNICKERS IN A TWIST.”

It’s the first line of the apology, however, that is perhaps the most interesting: “To be clear, sexual assault is no laughing matter.” On the one hand, duh. If you have to clarify that you don’t find the systemic sexual abuse of women over a 30-year period a laugh riot, you’ve already aroused suspicion. It’s like releasing a statement that says, “To be clear, I’ve never thought the taste of human flesh was finger-licking good.” If you do that, very few people are going to turn up to your next dinner party, and they definitely won’t come with a garnish on their head and wash with barbeque sauce like you asked.

On the other hand, to say that any subject is “no laughing matter” can feel wrong. Comedians will never tire of saying that nothing should be off-limits, and that great comedy speaks uncomfortable truths to society. For some reason the heroic comedians who say this are the ones doing cheap jokes about female drivers, but hey, who am I to judge? I do believe that any subject can be joked about if it’s done in the right way, but that ability to joke about it comes from an intimate understanding of it, which itself usually comes from lived experience.

Corden's jokes weren’t designed to be edgy – if anything they were designed to normalise the suffering

Tig Notaro makes cancer hilarious because she has lived with it, in the same way that Rosie Jones makes jokes about cerebral palsy, a subject that would otherwise be “no laughing matter”, because she understands it and can handle it in a way that few others can. Amy Poehler and Tina Fey’s jokes at the Golden Globes about Bill Cosby in 2015 were better received than Corden’s not only because they were actually funny, but also because they came from a place of understanding – like many women in Hollywood they had known about these accusations for years and felt the frustration of not being listened to.

That’s not what Corden’s jokes were on Saturday. I don’t know if he has experienced sexual assault, or if he has an intimate understanding of it – given those weak, demeaning jokes on Saturday, I’d be surprised if he had even considered what it was like for those women. Some people have said that Corden’s jokes were “too soon” – as if the world wasn’t ready for his edginess. But his jokes weren’t edgy – if anything they normalised the suffering, and normalised Weinstein’s abhorrent behaviour.

They were supposed to diffuse the anger, to make Weinstein appear like a comedy “dirty old man” instead of a predator accused of multiple allegations of rape, shielded by a profession that cared more about its reputation and money than protecting vulnerable people. Given that Weinstein was the first to give Corden his break in Hollywood, we perhaps shouldn’t be surprised.

Comedy should have no limits. Comedy can be used to skewer and destroy powerful corrupt people in otherwise unassailable positions. Comedy should also be funny. On Saturday, Corden was none of these things. His jokes were devoid of empathy or self-reflection. They were cruel, objectifying, and, above all, safe: reframing Weinstein as a cheeky wrong’un instead of taking aim at the wider culture that allowed him to flourish and in which Corden himself is complicit. You have to be better, James. In the words of a struggling comedian: “come on”.

• Jack Bernhardt is a comedy writer and creator of the BBC Radio 4 sitcom The Lentil Sorters