By: The PETERMAYER Team

Editor’s note: Marketer discretion advised. We’re about to talk about ceding control of your brand.

What does it look like to have a brand community?

Here’s a simple but profound truth: Brands don’t own the way people think about them. In the last 20 years, consumers have become masters of their own worlds. We choose which brands we let in and even pay to filter out the ones we don’t with ad-free subscriptions.

So, in our fragmented media space, where making a bold brand choice to connect with new audiences seems like a huge risk, how do you build brand love? How do you get that sought-after, buzzword-ified community?  

To start, you’re going to have to realize that you’re no longer the sole owner of your brand narrative. There are legions of people out there who will join you, if you’re willing to speak with them, instead of to them.

Do not think of your community as an audience

When we talk about communities, we’re talking about groups of people—online or off—who share a common purpose, attitude or interest. This can include fans of The Bachelor, the LSU Alumni Organization or the residents of Harlem.

Communities exist before brands arrive. They grow from shared behaviors, inside jokes, rituals and identities that already bind people together. The quickest way to lose a community is to try to manage it or grow it in directions that could alienate your core fans.

Unlike an audience, which is a group of people that share some data-confirmed characteristic, communities are self-aware. A target audience of 30-something moms who watch reality TV and drink Red Bull once a week won’t seek one another. But viewers of The Bachelor will.

Because in a community, people expect members—be it brands or individuals—to show up and contribute to the group. As a Bachelor viewer, you might go out and find fellow fans. A Red Bull ad finds you.  

Avoid the social media trap

The first mistake brands make in trying to build community is through communication with a large audience, often on social media. Likes and shares make it easy to believe you are building a community. In truth, those metrics are only surface reflections. Socials are signifiers of community, not community itself.  

The actual work of belonging still happens in forums, in group chats, at events, and in physical spaces where people commit time and energy. Brands that mistake signals for substance risk investing in visibility without creating connection.

Behave like a Peer

Acting like a peer begins with respect for the codes of the group. Every fandom or subculture has its language, memes, and rituals. If you ignore those, you stand out as a marketer rather than a member. McDonald’s achieved this by tapping into fan truths, then creating menu options and promotions based on fans’ orders and “secret menu” mash-ups.

Be a quick responder

A fast response and a human tone reinforce that you’re present and willing to converse. Vacation sunscreen built affinity this way, often replying one-to-one on LinkedIn to acknowledge their audience’s assessments of the brand and its products in real time.

Hype the habits

Celebrating quirks is another rule. Communities thrive on specificity. Attempts to smooth edges for broader appeal usually backfire. Crunchyroll is not merely a distributor of anime; it operates inside the culture, attending conventions, amplifying fan art, and reinforcing habits fans already practice.

Be there IRL

Finally, presence matters. Online connection signals interest, but showing up in person—through events, rituals, or real-world partnerships—creates the texture of belonging.  

J.Crew’s two-day NYFW takeover at 190 Bowery turned the brand back toward its roots. They built an immersive, multi-room “catalog come to life,” a striped study, a cozy cashmere bedroom, and an atelier run with New York Embroidery Studio for on-site customization. The IRL format concentrated fan-to-fan interaction, which extended onto feeds across the country.

Your brand has unique joy. Don’t dilute it.

The opposite outcomes are just as instructive. When legacy chains like Jaguar or Cracker Barrel tried to modernize by chasing broad appeal, they flattened the details that gave people a sense of place.

One colleague described it as “taking out the joy particles.” When a brand removes the idiosyncrasies that made people feel seen, the community loses its anchor. That vacuum rarely produces new loyalty. More often, it erodes what little affinity remained.

Peer or Performer? A Quick Diagnostic

Before launching your next activation, run this test:

• Do we know the in-jokes and rituals of this group?

• Are we showing up in spaces where people already gather?

• Are our replies quick and human, or slow and polished?

• Would this feel natural if it came from a fan instead of a brand?

• Does it create conversation between members, not just back to us?

• Can we back this up with a real-world presence?

If more answers lean “no” than “yes,” you are performing for an audience, not participating in a community.

The Permission Slip: Join the Conversation

Marketers don’t need to invent communities. They don’t need to control them either. What they need is the courage to behave like peers, not managers. That shift opens doors to rituals, exchanges and belonging that feel earned. It also frees brands from the burden of ownership. Communities expect respect, not a landlord to waltz in and manage how they feel about a brand.

When you measure success by whether people start talking to one another, you give yourself permission to create things people actually love. And in a market that prizes trust, that permission is worth more than reach.

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Hezekiah McCaskill, Eric Camardelle, Mary Rose Kesser, Kevin Zengel, Morgan Murray, Caitlin Condy and Eli Haddow contributed to the thinking behind this story.