COMIC CON - THE MOST INCLUSIVE PLACE ON EARTH!

If you want to see what genuine inclusion looks like, don’t look at the current series of ad campaigns. Look at Comic Con!

You’ll find more diversity in one convention corridor than most brands could ever dream up in a creative review. People of every age, shape, identity, and galaxy show up exactly as they are - or, more accurately, as whoever they want to be.

It’s the purest, loudest, most joyfully human example of belonging on the planet. The brand activations are just the backdrop - the people are the story.

Costume as an equaliser

Cosplay isn’t about hiding. It’s about becoming.

Whether your outfit cost £20 or £2,000, the applause sounds the same. You can’t tell who’s a CEO, who’s a student, or who built their armour out of Monster drinks cans (yes that’s right) or cereal boxes at 3am. It’s democracy in latex and duct tape.

From a sharp-looking Naruto to numerous immaculately detailed Clara’s from Clair Obscur: Expedition 33, right down to a young girl proudly wearing a handmade mask of cogs and wire, every costume tells a story!

Psychologist Carl Rogers believed authenticity is the cornerstone of happiness - and Comic Con proves it. When you dress as your hero, you’re not escaping reality, you’re expanding who you’re allowed to be.

It’s identity play with purpose. A safe space to test new versions of yourself - the kind of openness most brands try (and fail) to bottle and sell.

The man from Scotland

On the first morning, we met a man who’d taken the overnight bus the day before from Scotland. He’d planned his outfits with military precision - one for each day, each more elaborate than the last.

He said he looked forward to the journey as much as the destination - the chatter with fellow fans, the shared anticipation. But what he loved most wasn’t performing; it was watching. The after-parties, the laughter, the small moments of connection between strangers in costume.

He didn’t need to be the centre of attention to feel part of something. He already was.

That’s relatedness - one of the core human needs for happiness. But really, it’s simpler than that: belonging without needing to be seen.

The woman who gifted

Later, we met a woman who’d travelled all the way from Switzerland. She mentioned she had ADHD, then lost herself in puzzling – calm, focused, exactly where she wanted to be.

We gave her a small challenge, and she dived in completely - head down, laser-focused, lost in her craft. The next day, she came back to find us, holding out tiny handmade gifts. Little works of art she’d created and carried across borders, just to say thank you.

It’s easy for brands to talk about generosity. Harder to live it. But this woman was generosity - in focus, in joy, in craft. Comic Con didn’t just give her a stage. It gave her a home.

Lunch with strangers

Around lunchtime, we found ourselves in the central corridor at ExCel - messy bagels, backpacks, and capes billowing.

It started with a nod, then a search for a missing costume part, then a comment about a shared fandom. Before long, there was laughter. No networking, no agenda, just conversation.

We talked about favourite characters, costume disasters, which stalls were worth a visit. No one interrupted, no one dominated. Just humans connecting with kindness and curiosity.

A small moment that said something big: inclusion isn’t just about welcoming people in - it’s about what happens once they’re there.

It’s listening before speaking. Asking before assuming. Creating space where everyone feels safe to share what makes them light up.

That kind of mindful connection doesn’t need a manifesto. It just needs time, lunch, and attention.

Collective effervescence (and why it matters)

Walk into Comic Con and you feel it instantly - that charge in the air, that shared heartbeat.

Sociologist Émile Durkheim called it collective effervescence: the electric joy that happens when humans unite around a shared passion.

The man from Scotland felt it on the bus and at the after party.

The woman with the puzzles felt it in her focus.

The strangers at lunch felt it over bagels.

Everyone there feels it - because it’s connection, not performance.

Brands chase that feeling endlessly. They call it engagement, advocacy, loyalty.

Comic Con just calls it Saturday!

The serious business of play

Play isn’t the opposite of work - it’s the opposite of indifference.

Play fuels creativity, empathy, and connection. Comic Con is play at its purest - adults given permission to be delighted again.

In a world that prizes productivity over passion, this is rebellion through joy.

If you want to see what real creative freedom looks like, it’s not in a brainstorm. It’s in a hand-stitched Boba Fett costume held together by love and Velcro.

What brands can learn

You can’t fake belonging. You can only create the space for it.

Comic Con didn’t start with a purpose statement or a hashtag. It started with passion, participation, and permission - and the rest followed.

If brands want to build communities that mean something, they could do worse than borrow a few lessons from the cosplayers:

• Make people feel part of something bigger.

• Let them bring their whole selves.

• Give them the freedom to play.

• And most importantly, talk, listen, and connect like humans do at lunch.

Because in a world obsessed with standing out, Comic Con reminds us how good it feels to fit in.

Because that’s the kind of happiness money can’t buy, and no campaign can manufacture.