Latest / Community Marketing with Fexingo: Discord, Slack Groups, and Brand Communities / Why Your Brand Community Needs a Constitution Not Just Rules
Transcript
- Lucas: So there's this fitness app — I won't name it, but at its peak it had about 400,000 active users and a tight-knit community of maybe 5,000 power users who essentially ran the place. They answered newbie questions, they organised challenges, they basically were the product's best unpaid feature. Luna: Right. The kind of community every brand dreams of — self-sustaining, passionate, doing your marketing for you. Lucas: Exactly. And then one day the company quietly changed a core rule: they removed the ability for community members to create their own challenge groups. No warning, no discussion, just a product update that landed and broke how these power users had been organising for two years. Luna: I remember hearing about that. Didn't they lose something like three-quarters of their most engaged users in a matter of weeks? Lucas: Seventy-eight percent of power users in six weeks. Six weeks. The community went from a vibrant hub to a ghost town because the company treated its code of conduct — a document that basically said 'be nice, don't spam' — as sufficient governance. But what they didn't have was something more foundational: a constitution. Luna: A constitution. That's a heavy word for a brand community. What do you mean by that exactly? Lucas: I mean a document that defines not just what you can't do, but what the community is for, who it belongs to, how decisions get made, and — crucially — how those decisions can be changed. A code of conduct is about behaviour. A constitution is about rights, purpose, and process. Luna: So it's less 'don't be a jerk' and more 'here's why we're all here and who gets a say in how this place evolves'. Lucas: Right. And that's actually something we've talked about on this show in different ways — the idea that communities are fragile assets. If these conversations have ever made you think about how you'd protect your own brand's community, there's a small way to support the show that keeps it independent and ad-free: buy me a coffee dot com slash fexingo. It's not a subscription, it's just a gesture that helps us keep digging into these topics. Luna: Yeah, and it really does make a difference. Now, back to constitutions — where does a brand even start with something like that? Lucas: Let's look at the best example I know: Lego Ideas. That community has been running since 2008. It now has 2.3 million registered members, and it's produced 38 official Lego sets that originated as fan designs. That's not an accident. It's because they have a genuinely well-structured governance framework. Luna: I've seen Lego Ideas — it's a platform where fans submit designs and if they get 10,000 votes, Lego reviews it for production. But I always assumed that was just a contest mechanic. You're saying there's a constitution behind it? Lucas: There is. Lego publishes what they call the 'Ideas Review Process' — it's a detailed document that covers everything: how submissions are evaluated, what happens if a design is rejected, how intellectual property is handled, even a clause about what happens if Lego discontinues the platform entirely. Members have visibility into the process, and it's amended over time with community input. Luna: That last part is huge — the amendment process. Because the fitness app I think you're talking about — I looked into it — the change came from the product team with zero community consultation. And the community felt betrayed. Lucas: Exactly. And that's the difference between a code of conduct and a constitution. A code of conduct is typically written by the company, for the company. It can be changed at any time, for any reason, with no notice. A constitution — if it's done right — includes a mechanism for amendment that involves the community. Maybe it's a vote. Maybe it's a comment period. Maybe it's a council of elected members who have to sign off. Luna: So the constitution becomes a check on the company's own power. Which is scary for a brand to hand over, isn't it? Giving up control? Lucas: It is scary. And that's why most brands don't do it. They'd rather maintain full control. But the irony is that by holding onto control, they often destroy the very thing they're trying to protect. The fitness app community didn't die because the rule change was bad — it died because the community realised they had no rights, no guarantee that their contributions would be respected. And once that trust is gone, it's almost impossible to rebuild. Luna: I want to circle back to Lego Ideas because it sounds like they've managed to balance control and community voice. How does their amendment process actually work? Lucas: Lego publishes a 'Rules and Guidelines' document that's updated periodically. But the key is that major changes — like how the review process works, or what qualifies for production — are announced in advance, often with a blog post explaining the rationale. The community can give feedback through their forums. It's not a direct democracy, but it's transparent. And importantly, the core promise — that any design reaching 10,000 supporters will be reviewed — has never been changed. Luna: That's the constitutional part: a fundamental right that can't be casually revoked. Lucas: Exactly. And that stability is why Lego Ideas has lasted 15 years while so many other brand communities have flamed out. The members know the rules of the game. They know their effort won't be wiped out by a product manager's whim. Luna: Okay, but what about a smaller community? A brand that doesn't have Lego's resources. Can you write a constitution for a 500-person Slack group? Lucas: Absolutely. In fact, it's even more important for smaller communities because the close-knit dynamics mean trust can break faster. I've seen a 200-person Slack group for indie game developers create a simple one-page constitution that covered four things: the purpose of the group, membership rights, a code of conduct, and a process for amending the constitution itself. Luna: And did it survive a crisis? That's the real test. Lucas: It did. About a year in, the founder wanted to sell the group to a marketing agency. Under the constitution, any change in ownership required a two-thirds vote of the active members. The vote failed. Some members left anyway, but the core stayed. And the founder actually thanked the constitution later — he said it saved him from making a decision he would have regretted. Luna: That's a great case. So the constitution protected both the community and the founder from a bad outcome. Lucas: Right. And that's the thing people miss: a constitution isn't just for the community. It's also a framework for the brand to make consistent decisions. It prevents the kind of ad-hoc rule changes that destroy trust. Luna: Let me push back on something though. Isn't there a risk that a constitution makes a community feel too formal? Like a legal document? The appeal of a Slack group is often its informality and spontaneity. Lucas: That's a fair point. A constitution doesn't have to be a 50-page legal text. It can be a single page with five bullet points. The key is that it's explicit and agreed upon. The informality can still exist within that framework. Think of it like the rules of a basketball game — the rules define the boundaries, but the game itself is still creative and spontaneous. Luna: So the rules enable the play, they don't stifle it. Good analogy. Lucas: And the other benefit is onboarding. When a new member joins, they can read the constitution and immediately understand what the community is about, what's expected, and what their rights are. That's much better than 'welcome, here's a link to the code of conduct that no one reads'. Luna: Which brings us back to that fitness app. If they had a constitution — even a simple one — that said 'community challenge groups are a core feature and cannot be removed without a 30-day notice period and member feedback', do you think the exodus would have been prevented? Lucas: I think it would have been mitigated. Some people would have still left, but the trust wouldn't have been shattered. The community would have had time to adapt, to argue, to propose alternatives. Instead, the change felt like a betrayal because it was done in secret and with no recourse. Luna: So what's the first step for a brand that wants to implement something like this? Should they write it themselves or co-create it with the community? Lucas: Co-create it. Always. If the brand writes it alone, it's just another terms of service. The whole point is that the community feels ownership. Start with a small group of trusted members — maybe 10 to 15 — and draft a one-page document together. Then open it up for a comment period. Then ratify it with a vote. Luna: And what if the community votes against something the brand really wants? That's a hard pill to swallow. Lucas: It is. But if the brand isn't willing to accept that outcome, they shouldn't call it a constitution. They should just call it guidelines. And they should be prepared for the consequences — which, as we've seen, can be a 78 percent loss of power users. Luna: So it's a trade-off: control versus resilience. Lucas: Exactly. And for brands that are serious about building a long-term community, resilience wins every time. Because the community isn't really yours — it's a shared asset. A constitution just makes that explicit.