Scholars have been studying religion for centuries. Fandom? That’s relatively new. So to understand what’s happening in communities like mine, researchers use a framework called the “five dimensions of religiosity.” When you map these onto Star Wars fandom, the similarities are uncanny.
- Belief. Every religion has a creed—a set of truths you’re supposed to accept. In fandom, that’s “canon.” The canon is whatever the powers that be say is officially part of the story. For costumers like me, it goes even deeper: we debate fabric types, stitch counts, and paint shades as if they were articles of faith. Question the canon, and you’re not just wrong—you’re a blasphemer.
- Practice. Religions have rituals: prayer, pilgrimage, worship. Fandoms have conventions, costume builds, and collection obsessions. When I put on a costume and reenact a scene, I’m not “playing”—I’m performing a ritual. And when The Mandalorian dropped “This is the way” in 2019, it didn’t just become a catchphrase. It became a creed. A fandamentalist creed, actually—the show literally uses it to comment on the divide between purists and progressives in fandom.
- Experience. Durkheim, the famous sociologist, said religion is about feeling part of something bigger than yourself. That’s exactly what happens at Celebration. The collective energy, the shared joy—it’s what he called “collective effervescence.” that same intensity can tip into toxicity when the community grows and not everyone agrees on what the “sacred” thing actually is.
- Knowledge. Religions have scriptures and traditions. Fandoms have Wookieepedia (over 194,000 articles), the countless books, and productions and of course the source media. Fans can recite trivia, behind-the-scenes lore, and obscure details like monks quoting texts. As a prop maker, I get challenged constantly on my choices—fabric, colour, design. Compliance with the “orthodoxy” isn’t optional if you want to belong.
- Consequences. How does your faith change your daily life? For me, Star Wars isn’t a hobby, it’s woven into my identity. I schedule travel around conventions. I run a platform serving this community. It’s not escapism; it’s who I am.
These five dimensions show that fandom isn’t just entertainment. It’s a meaning-making system. And like any system of meaning, it can lift people up—or lock them in.
This post is adapted from my doctorate research on the intersection of religiosity and fandom.