Investigating the (d)evolution of fandom.
I was a fan, then I was a stan. I couldn’t tell the difference between the two until I was “exiled” from my primary fandom at the time. I didn’t even come close to understanding the forces at work in both fandom and standom until much, much later, when broader context and perspectives became part of the bigger-picture I was looking at.
The forces in question are the involvement of industry at large. Corporate interference was an anomaly in my early fandom days, now it is the norm.
Fandom has not just changed because it is being observed, but because it is being meddled with, and is essentially being consecrated, resulting in “true believers” (aka stans) who devote their all to their fan objects and feel a moral obligation to do so. When their communally created illusions fall apart, they revolt, loudly. The exploitation of this devotion and the ignorance of its tangible consequences on their brands, and on the fandom itself.
My aim is to try and rope in relevant context and history to make sense of the fandom we see today, as well as how we got here. Tumblr gets name-dropped a lot in discussions, but fandom culture predates its creation, and what we see today has been decades in the making.
Fandom became visible and profitable almost simultaneously. From the “street teams” of the 90s which morphed into fan-influencers astroturfing forums to stans being encouraged to stalk and being fed information directly.
From the intentional consecration of fandom, to the digital landscape that acts as a fandom greenhouse, coaxing us into these fan ←→ fan object relationships by default, and feeding into our parasocial attachments.
Some of the questions I’ve tried, and continue to try, to answer:
Why, and how, had fans been lulled into believing they had so much power?
How did we go from stifling queer stories to teasing them and outright baiting?
How did Real Person Fiction, an extreme taboo in fandom, become so good for business?
What does it mean for fandom, for audiences, for creators, when we move on from 1,000 true fans to 100 true fans?
Why does fandom, which claims to be progressive, end up perpetuating and enshrining strict gender roles?
Why me?
I am not a journalist or an academic, but I am a fandom native. I spent years being increasingly frustrated at the way fandom and fannish communities were being gawked at by journalists, outside researchers and business people.
I became active in online fan communities in the very late 90s and remained active for most of my teens and adulthood. It was fun and exciting, intellectually and creatively stimulating. I met friends, I travelled internationally for fannish purposes. I was never a fandom tourist, but because I was minding my own business, I didn’t realize how drastically the climate had changed until I fell in the quicksand.
The unspoken rule of fandom has always been: don’t break the fourth wall. But I hadn’t realized how long ago that ship had left shore until I had my own crisis of faith and started investigating what was going on.
I write from the perspective of a fan, from the audience. I pull from business literature and academic writing, as well as my own archival fandom research.
I can’t change what’s happening, but hopefully, I can inch closer towards understanding it.
Anything else?
Cinéma vérité is the section of this newsletter dedicated to film— the industry and the art. Film is my first and most enduring love, and I strongly believe that it can teach us a lot about the world and each other. Both on its own, and how it’s treated and received by the public. Any film or shows that tackle fandom relevant topics will also be slotted in this category.
Coming soon: a section on music. This millennial’s antidote to the flat culture of today, and a celebration of the outdated album format.
