Every startup pitch today comes with the same buzzword: community.
Founders love to say they’re not just selling a product — they’re building a tribe, a family, a movement. A new app? “It’s a community.” A coffee subscription? “A community of coffee lovers.” Even fitness trackers and meal kit brands claim they’re creating “communities” of users.
Let’s be honest: most of this is marketing cosplay. Customers don’t want to be part of your brand’s community. They want your product to work, your service to deliver, and your promises to be kept. Pretending otherwise isn’t just cringe; it can be dangerous.
Because when you’re busy playing community theater, you’re ignoring the one thing that actually matters: trust.
Why is everyone so obsessed with this word? Because “community” sounds warmer than “customer base.” It flatters founders into thinking they’re not selling — they’re leading a movement. Investors love it. Agencies sell it. Slide decks worship it.
But customers? They don’t care.
Think about the brands in your daily life. You might love your iPhone, your Nespresso machine, or your favorite running shoes. But do you really feel part of a community with the thousands of other people who own the same thing? Of course not.
A handful of lifestyle brands have pulled it off — CrossFit, Harley-Davidson, maybe Apple at its peak. But unless your brand is directly tied to someone’s identity, your customers don’t want to wear your logo on a T-shirt or hang out in your subreddit.
For everyone else, chasing community is a distraction.
Here’s where it gets ugly.
You launch a Slack group that goes silent in two weeks.
You pour money into hashtags nobody uses.
You burn out your marketing team “engaging the community” instead of fixing product glitches that are driving churn.
That’s not loyalty. That’s theater. And worse, it backfires. Customers can smell when you’re forcing intimacy they didn’t ask for. Nobody wants to be guilt-tripped into being part of your “family.”
Stop pretending every buyer is dying to hang out with your brand. They’re not.
It’s simpler than you think:
Reliability.
Honesty.
Responsiveness when things go wrong.
If the product works, if you keep your promises, and if you own your mistakes, you’ve already done more for loyalty than any contrived community-building exercise.
That’s not community. That’s trust. And trust — not community — is what actually drives growth.
So what’s the alternative? I call it building trust networks.
Trust networks aren’t invented in a brainstorm or “managed” by a community lead. They emerge when you do the fundamentals well enough that people vouch for you: when customers recommend you to friends, when influencers share your product because they genuinely like it, when employees post proudly about working for you, or when journalists cite you because your data is credible.
That’s not a community you control. It’s a network of trust you enable. And unlike fake communities, trust networks actually move the needle.
Here’s the part most founders miss: trust networks don’t just happen — you can proactively create and amplify them.
Start by identifying your natural advocates — the customers who are happiest with you, the employees who believe in your mission, and the partners who value working alongside you. Then give their stories oxygen. Turn testimonials into thought leadership articles. Package client successes into case studies that earn media coverage. Amplify employee voices on LinkedIn. Work with influencers who authentically use your product and can spread the word in their own communities. And make sure those trust signals show up where buyers are actually searching — in Google results, on LinkedIn, and in ChatGPT answers. In my book Trust Signals, I call this a “trust breadcrumb path” — the series of proof points that guide prospects back to your website, and ultimately to purchase.
Trust networks are like word-of-mouth on steroids. You don’t own them. But you can feed them. And when you do, they become your most sustainable growth engine.
Here’s the irony: when you stop trying to build a community, you get back your time and credibility. You don’t have to force artificial engagement. You don’t have to create hashtags nobody uses. You don’t have to pretend customers want to hang out with each other.
Instead, you can focus on what matters: building something people need, treating them with respect, and showing up consistently. That’s how real loyalty forms. Not through forced togetherness, but through earned trust.
And yes, sometimes a genuine community does emerge. But that’s rare — and it’s always customer-led. You don’t manufacture it with a campaign. It happens when the product becomes so central to people’s lives that they build community around it themselves. That’s powerful precisely because it can’t be faked.
The brands that last aren’t the ones with the loudest “community.” They’re the ones that earn quiet, consistent trust — the kind that gets someone to recommend you without hesitation. Forget being the ringleader of a fake tribe. Be the brand people can count on. That’s the only following you’ll ever need.