The Rise of Fandoms

Their faces were haggard, their eyes bleary. They’d been camped out on the pier for hours. But despite their exhaustion, the crowd buzzed with excitement. America’s favorite celebrity would soon arrive in New York City, and these superfans couldn’t wait to catch a glimpse.

Who were these throngs of adoring fans? They weren’t Arianators waiting for Ariana Grande. Nor were they Selenators, Little Monsters, or Potterheads.

These were fans of the most famous writer in 19th-century America and Europe—the best-selling author of books like Oliver Twist and A Christmas Carol: Charles Dickens.

For all of recorded history, there have been fans and the things they admire. Chances are you are a fan of someone or something. Maybe it’s Black Panther, the L.A. Lakers, or simply your dad’s pancakes. Maybe you’re a superfan, which means you’re extremely dedicated and enthusiastic—perhaps even a bit obsessive.

Superfans have always gone to great lengths to feed their obsessions. When Dickens visited America in 1842, hordes of admirers trailed him everywhere he went. They even tried to snip off pieces of his coat as souvenirs—similar to how superfans today might lurk outside a restaurant where a celebrity is eating, hoping to get a photo. A barber who once gave Dickens a haircut made a small fortune selling scraps of his hair, which perhaps isn’t so different from the person who sold a tissue Scarlett Johansson had used to wipe her nose—for a whopping $5,300. (Yes, that happened.) Getting Dickens’s autograph was probably just as thrilling in the 1840s as getting a like or a comment from a star today.

But in spite of the similarities between fans past and present, there is something unique about fan culture today. Thanks to technology and social media, enormous numbers of superfans are joining together in what have come to be known as fandoms. These groups are highly creative and increasingly powerful. And they’re changing the world of pop culture. 

A fandom is a group of people who unite around a shared passion for something or someone in pop culture, usually a TV show, a movie, a book, a musical artist, or an actor. There are fandoms for everything from Pixar to the Marvel Universe to the Hunger Games. Some groups give themselves clever names, like the Swifties (fans of Taylor Swift) and the Hamilteens (teen fans of the musical Hamilton).

But being in a fandom means more than really, really liking something. Fandoms are about creating something. You might connect with fellow fans all over the world, sharing opinions, trivia, and jokes and making memes, videos, and podcasts. You might write fan fiction, creating your own stories starring the characters you love. You might dress up and act out stories, go to fan festivals, or make artwork portraying your favorite characters as you imagine them.

“I like to think of a fandom as a community,” explains Katie Pascuite, 15, from New Jersey.

Katie, who considers herself a Potterhead and a superfan of all things Disney, first got into fandoms in fifth grade, when she fell in love with Star Wars.

“I thought I was weird for being into this crazy stuff,” she recalls. “But fandoms made me feel like even if I didn’t fit in at school, I fit in with someone—that there was a whole group of people I could talk to, where I could just be myself and not worry what others think.”          

Not so long ago, you couldn’t just pull out your phone to see what your favorite star had for breakfast—much less instantly connect with other fans. What you could do was join a fan club. For a fee, you could get an autographed poster for your room, a membership card, and a badge you’d proudly stitch on your backpack. You might send a letter—known as fan mail—and wait in agony by the mailbox every day, hoping for a reply.

As for finding others who shared your enthusiasm? If none of your friends loved what you loved, you were often on your own.

Thanks to the internet and social media, that is no longer a problem. Today, fandoms are large, tight-knit tribes that have enormous influence in the pop culture world. A loyal, active fan base can persuade a movie studio to make a sequel, like Camp Rock 2, or help a new artist sell out a world tour, which just happened to 18-year-old singer Billie Eilish.

Sometimes fandoms can even influence the work itself. For example, last year an animated movie based on the Sonic the Hedgehog video games was created. Fans of the games criticized the way Sonic was portrayed in the movie’s trailer—they thought he had strange-looking teeth. What did the movie studio do? It redesigned the character.

This decision triggered a debate: How much should movie studios and other artists cater to their most devoted fans? Regardless of the answer, savvy stars understand how important their fan bases are and work hard to celebrate them. Taylor Swift, for example, is known to invite Swifties to pizza parties, reblog their Tumblrs, and comment on their videos. 

Like many good things, though, fandom has a dark side. Superfans often feel a sense of ownership over the thing they love and will defend it with the ferocity of a mama bear protecting her cubs. Sometimes these deep feelings can lead to nasty behavior that ruins the joy for everyone.

For example, in 2017, more than 100,000 fans who didn’t like Star Wars: The Last Jedi signed a petition to Disney to have it removed from the canon. (Disney did not, and the film was a smash hit.) Some fans went after Kelly Marie Tran, who plays Rose Tico, posting racist comments on her Instagram, prompting her to delete all her posts. Before the release of Captain Marvel last year, some disgruntled fans flooded the internet with fake bad reviews to discourage people from going to see it.

These certainly aren’t the only examples of so-called toxic fandom. Writers, actors, and singers have all been targeted. Sometimes the bullying happens between fan groups or even individual members of the same group. Sometimes the discord spills into the school day, with warring groups refusing to share a lunch table.

Most of the negativity happens on social media, though, and Katie says the best response is to stay positive—and block whoever is being toxic. “Don’t even respond,” she says. “It’s not worth it.”

To be sure, fandoms are—at their best—a force for good. Take the Harry Potter Alliance. Inspired by the values of the Harry Potter series, this group does advocacy work around issues like poverty, literacy, and civil rights. One of its campaigns was called “What Would Dumbledore Do?” Fans tweeted about what they learned from the character Albus Dumbledore and applied those lessons to their lives.

Perhaps Charles Dickens’s fans should have followed their example—and left the poor guy’s coat alone. 

It might seem like fandom is just about having fun. But experts say that being part of a fandom can be more than just entertaining: It can actually be good for you.

Why? It has to do with our primal need to belong to a group. Early humans grouped together to survive—to hunt, share food, and protect each other. Today we don’t have to worry about a saber-toothed cat wandering into our home to make a meal of us. But we still benefit from being part of a group; groups still make us feel safe, supported, and cared about.

According to psychotherapist and fandom expert Dr. Laurel Steinberg, fandom helps us find out who we are and build our self-esteem. “Fandom can help a person feel proud and feel part of something that’s bigger than themselves,” Steinberg says.

In other words, fandom gives you a sense of community. And studies show that having a community can lower the risk of depression and anxiety.

As with all things, though, moderation is key. If you’re suddenly neglecting your friends, avoiding your homework, and missing out on family activities, you might need to scale back on your fandom time. But as long as they aren’t taking over your life, fandoms can be a bright spot in a world that can sometimes seem divisive. They’re about unity, about coming together to bond over something you care about deeply. And that can be a powerful and positive experience.  

This article was originally published in the February 2020 issue.