Cult Status

Last Wednesday, I got interviewed about my tech startup SparkPlug while people ripped bongs behind me.

The videographer kept trying to get clean B-roll shots, but there was someone taking dabs in the background. If you've never seen a dab before, imagine a blowtorch, a glass rig, and a portal to the spirit realm.

This was our first SparkPlug user event, The Spark Society - Denver. Two hundred budtenders showed up to a cannabis lounge in Denver. My team flew in from all over. We had taco trucks, mocktails, and I insisted on a roaming magician to do card tricks.

I love a party magician, sue me.

We brought 100 SparkPlug long-sleeve shirts to hand out. They disappeared so fast people were literally sprinting to grab them. For t-shirts. With our logo.

Budtenders lined up to take photos in front of our banner like it was Instagram-worthy.

I turned to my cofounder and announced: "I think we've built a cult."

For years I thought I was building B2B software. Turns out I've been building something else entirely: a financial lifeline and shared belief system for an entire industry.

SparkPlug has nearly 100,000 users, but I spend way less time with them than I should.

I moved from Boulder to San Francisco four years ago and have slowly drifted toward the tech side of the business. A confession: I order all my weed online. I rarely go to dispensaries. I spend my days in Slack and HubSpot, disconnected from the brick-and-mortar businesses where people actually use my product.

At the Denver event, users told me what they've spent their earnings on:

"You have no idea what this app has done for my family."

A woman grabbed my arm and said that. She was right. I didn't. Not really.

I heard dozens of these stories. Emergency dog surgeries. First apartments furnished. For many users, earnings from SparkPlug cover serious financial gaps in their lives.

They don't just use SparkPlug. They evangelize it. They defend it. They identify with it.

And that's when I realized: SparkPlug isn't mine anymore, if it ever was.

I listen to enough business podcasts to understand the framework for irrational user loyalty. Whether it's Tesla owners defending Elon or Peloton riders planning their lives around class schedules, the patterns are consistent.

We never set out to build a cult, but the signals are undeniable:

Sacred Language: Cult brands create insider vocabulary. Peloton riders "clip in" and chase "PRs." Tesla owners talk about "supercharging." Our users talk about “crushing leaderboards". Once you start using the language, you're already inside.

Insider Status: People want to be seen using cult brands. Stanley Cups thirst traps (literally). Supreme resale economics. Barstool stickers on every college water bottle. Our users sprint for SparkPlug merch and line up for photos with our banner. Wearing SparkPlug means you’re a pro.

Rabid Evangelism: The holy grail. CrossFit members recruit harder than the sales team. Taylor Swift fans defend like PR operatives. We barely spend on marketing because our users do it for us. They onboard coworkers, pressure managers to adopt our platform, and post screenshots of their SparkPlug wallets online.

When you solve something painful and make people feel seen, these behaviors emerge on their own. It all compiles into identity infrastructure.

Founders on podcasts talk about product-market fit. In Denver, I felt what comes after: product-identity fit.

At the event, my team held a joint rolling contest. People were consuming cannabis twenty feet from where I was directing a video shoot for LinkedIn. The magician performed through clouds of cannabis smoke; reactions were slightly delayed but still full of wonder.

This is the reality of my business. This is who we serve.

But I've been talking about SparkPlug like it's just another SaaS company. Like the cannabis part is incidental.

But it's not incidental. It's everything.

Raising venture capital pushed me to frame this as "tech startup that happens to serve cannabis." But that's not how our users see it. To them, SparkPlug is part of their identity as cannabis professionals. We're legitimizing their expertise in an industry that's still fighting for respect.

The budtenders at our event weren't just excited about earning money. They were excited about being seen, valued, and treated like the product experts they are. In an industry where they're often treated as disposable, SparkPlug makes them feel like professionals.

I've been thinking all week about our very first Spark Society event.

Most "community building" is performative bullshit. Networking events, giveaways, brand ambassadors. Manufactured engagement that rarely sticks.

Real community emerges when you solve something painful and make people feel seen. You can't manufacture it. It happens when your product becomes part of someone's story about themselves.

Sure, SparkPlug helps our users make ends meet. But it's also proof that their knowledge and skills have value. It's their edge in a competitive industry and how they pay for a nice anniversary dinner while working retail.

I thought we were throwing a user appreciation party, but what showed up felt more like a fandom meetup.

The high has worn off, but the lesson stuck: your business becomes what your users need it to be, not what you planned.

In our case: B2B SaaS wrapped in community and just a hint of religious fervor.

And I’m still fielding DMs asking when the next swag drop is.

Up and to the right.