We live in a world of superfans. You know them, and you love them — your Swiftie best friend, your Trekkie dad, your diehard New England Patriots fan mom, the list goes on. Defined by the Merriam-Webster dictionary as “an extremely enthusiastic or dedicated fan,” a superfan is a hardcore fan that exists in virtually every subgenre of popular culture, from music and media to sports and politics. The prevalence of and easy access to content, made possible by the growth and influence of social media, escalates the possibility for regular fans to become superfans.

Superfans aren’t a new thing by any stretch of the imagination. Rather, according to author Zoe Fraade-Blanar, whose book, Superfandom: How Our Obsessions Are Changing What We Buy and Who We Are, details the history and rise of the superfan, “Fandom is ancient — as long as there’s been culture, there’s been fandom. What’s changed over the years is the level of access.” The level of access, of course, is proximity to content via social media platforms like Instagram and TikTok, where fans can not only follow their favorite artist, athlete, show, etc. for original content, but they can also bond with fellow fans and create communities. 

When I say that there are superfans among us, I am, of course, calling myself out as well. I think I’m predisposed to becoming a superfan of essentially every piece of media I love. I’m a Doctor Who fan who owns a sonic screwdriver and a fez, which gives you a pretty good idea of my level of insanity. I’m also a music superfan: I’ve loved the Beatles since before I can remember. Random details about who played what during recording sessions? I have a book on that, and I probably know who played guitar on that b-side you’ve never heard. I own the Live at the Star Club album on vinyl, I have a set of Beatles nesting dolls, and I proudly display a set of Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band-themed Beatles nutcrackers in front of my TV. I’ve made wonderful fellow superfan friends through Doctor Who and the Beatles throughout my life. We watch marathons together, listen to albums together, and geek out together (which is really the best part). Fraade-Blanar is right — superfan obsessions do indeed change what we buy and who we are.

As a Beatles superfan, I lived for the occasional SiriusXM free trials so that I could listen to the Beatles Channel for their 24-hours, eight-days-a-week Beatles programming (how clever). I bit the bullet and paid the monthly subscription fee this past November, however, because SiriusXM tempted me with yet another way to feed my superfan tendencies, but with a different artist. They debuted a new show called “Life” on channel 14, hosted by my other significantly more controversial musical obsession: John Mayer (apologies and brace yourself, Swifties).

The fact that I even feel the need to apologize to Taylor Swift fans for listening to John Mayer, one of my biggest guitar idols, is a testament to the intensity and power of Swift’s superfans. She’s not my cup of tea, but I respect her as an artist. Even as a Mayer fan, I acknowledge the downright disgusting comments he’s made in the past and his enduring narcissism. But I still couldn’t wrap my head around some Swifties, who bombarded Mayer’s Instagram and TikTok comments during the summer of 2023 with threats like, “count your days” and “Dear John please speak never,” prophesying that the release of “Dear John (Taylor’s Version)” — a song that has never been confirmed to be about him — would wreck his career come the release of Speak Now (Taylor’s Version). Because their comments were (and still are — check out some of Mayer’s posts from April to July) available to the public, Swift took notice and even addressed her fans during one of her live shows, telling them, “I’m not putting this album out so you can go on the internet and defend me against someone you think I wrote a song about 14 million years ago,” as reported in a July 2023 NBC News article. Only a small portion of Swifties partook in the Mayer Instagram comments bombardment of summer 2023, and I don’t hold these actions against the whole fandom. I find it fascinating to study the influence that a group of superfans can have when they decide to use their strength in numbers to represent the fan base outside of their fandom’s bubble. 

In addition to serving fandoms as a medium through which superfans can connect and communicate with one another, social media also provides superfans with an easy, direct line of access to celebrities. The relationship between Swift and Mayer was born of, and continues to be fueled by, pure speculation from diehard Swifties, blown out of proportion by miscommunications and interactions within the Swiftdom on social media. 

If there’s a moral to this story, it’s that superfans can be intense in really great ways, but we have to remember that our power in popular culture can be equally as influential. Some advice from one superfan to another: indulge in what your superfan heart desires, but remember the Marvel Cinematic Universe  proverb, “With great power comes great responsibility.” Just be kind.

I’d like to be nostalgic for a moment, if I may, as I’m a senior, and this is the last article I’ll write for my beloved Arts + Culture section. Over the last four years, Flat Hat Magazine has been an outlet for me to geek out over everything from baroque rock to music in social movements to Fiona Apple’s Fetch the Bolt Cutters to the soundtrack of my favorite tragically-canceled NBC sitcom, Zoey’s Extraordinary Playlist. It gave me a place to be a superfan and write about the things I love, and I will forever be grateful for that opportunity. Keep writing about the things you love, William & Mary.