If you want to understand a community, break something.
I drove 13 hours each way to play in the Scottish Hardcourt Intercity Tournament. I didn’t know my teammates. I didn’t know anyone at all.
Within minutes of arriving, the bottom bracket on my bike snapped. Stranded in a city I didn’t know, with no tools and just minutes until game time. This could have been me and my team out before the first whistle.
But instead of watching me struggle, strangers gathered round. Tools appeared. Hands got dirty. Advice was shouted over the rain. Ten minutes later, I was back on court.
Most of us know the bystander effect: the more people around, the less likely anyone is to help. But in true communities, the opposite happens. The more people there are, the faster they step in. Not for likes. Not for credit. But because belonging carries responsibility.
That’s what marketers often miss when they talk about “community building.” A community isn’t a parasocial relationship with your brand. It’s an altruistic belonging to a group your brand happens to be a cornerstone of.
It’s not about how customers talk to you. It’s about how they talk to each other.
That’s the difference between building an audience and building a community.