Facilitator vs Communicator: Writing About Communities, Not For Them

You know that feeling when you join a company's community and it just feels... off? Like you're in a marketing funnel that happens to have a chat feature? Members post, but they're posting at the company, not with each other. The community manager is always creating content, always posting updates, always performing. And you're thinking, why am I even here?

I've built communities that grew to hundreds of thousands of members. I've also consulted with dozens of companies whose communities were stuck. Same pattern every time. It's frustrating, honestly. Because the fix is actually pretty simple once you see it.

Branded communities vs communities

Most companies build branded communities. They create content, set the agenda, control the narrative. Members consume what the brand produces. Engagement metrics look good on paper, but members don't talk to each other. They talk to the brand.

Then there are actual communities. Spaces where members talk to each other. The company facilitates, members drive. Engagement might look lower on paper, but conversations happen without the company's involvement. When the company steps back, members step up.

I've learned something the hard way: branded communities hit a ceiling. They grow to a certain size, then stall. Conversations get stale. Engagement drops off. The company keeps creating content, but members stop responding. The community manager burns out trying to feed the content machine. It's exhausting and unsustainable. I've watched this happen over and over.

Open communities grow faster. They don't hit that ceiling because members drive the conversations. When the company steps back, members step up. The community becomes self-sustaining. This is how you build communities that last. And honestly? It's way less work once you get it right.

I've consulted with dozens of communities stuck at that ceiling. Same pattern every time. The company is posting product updates, feature announcements, curated content. Members join but don't engage. They're waiting for the company to create something worth responding to.

The fix? Stop writing about your product. Find members who are using it in interesting ways. Share those stories instead. New feature? Don't post about it. Post about how you used the community to come up with it. Ask for feedback. Let members shape it.

When communities make this shift, engagement doubles. Not because they added more content. Because they stopped competing with their own community. Which sounds obvious when you say it out loud, but most companies don't see it until someone points it out.

Facilitator vs communicator

This comes down to role. Are you a communicator or a facilitator?

A communicator speaks for the community. They create content, craft messages, represent the brand. They're the voice of the company to the community. The community becomes dependent on them. When they step away, engagement dies. I've seen this happen. It's brutal to watch.

A facilitator enables the community to speak for itself. They create space, remove friction, amplify what's already happening. They're the voice of the community to the company. They build systems that work without them. When they step away, conversations continue. Members keep talking. The community keeps growing.

Facilitators set up structures, then let members run with them. The community becomes self-sustaining. This is how you build communities that last.

Writing about, not for

In my previous community websites, we asked our community managers to do something simple. Instead of writing "Here's how to use our new feature," they wrote "Sarah figured out a clever way to use our new feature. Here's what she discovered."

Same information. Completely different framing. And honestly? It took some convincing. Community managers are used to being the expert, the one creating content. But once they saw how members responded, they got it.

It worked beautifully. We got ownership and investment from our users. They wanted to be featured. They wanted to share what they discovered. The community became a showcase of member work, not company messaging. Members started competing to share the coolest uses. That's when you know it's working.

The first version positions the company as the expert. The second positions members as the experts. The first creates dependency. The second creates empowerment.

When you write for the community, you're creating content they should consume. You're competing for their attention. You're adding to the noise.

When you write about the community, you're documenting what's already happening. You're amplifying their voices. You're reducing friction. You're showing members that you're paying attention. That their conversations matter. That they're the ones driving value.

Why this builds stronger communities

Communities thrive when members feel ownership. When they see their ideas reflected back. When they know their contributions matter.

Writing about the community does this naturally. You're showing members that you're paying attention. That their conversations matter. That they're the ones driving value.

I watched a developer community transform this way. The company stopped posting tutorials and started documenting what members built. They stopped announcing features and started sharing how members used them. They stopped creating content and started curating member stories.

Members started creating more. They wanted to be featured. They wanted to share what they discovered. The community became a showcase of member work, not company messaging. The company's job shifted from creating to curating. Much easier. Much more sustainable.

The choice

Some companies need branded communities. Some audiences want that curated experience. That's fine. I'm not saying one approach is wrong and the other is right.

But if you want a community that lasts, facilitate instead of communicate. Write about what's happening instead of creating what should happen. Let members drive the conversation. Your job is to enable it, not control it.

Have you seen this distinction play out? Are you facilitating or communicating? What happens when you shift from writing for your community to writing about it?