Catalysts, Not Bubbles: How Intentional Communities Enrich Society
- Savannah Fishel
- May 30
- 7 min read
Updated: Jun 12
Insights from the US and Australia
Early October, I found myself standing in a circle in the middle of a street in Los Angeles, outside the LA Ecovillage buildings, holding hands with a group of residents. Together, we created a human chain - a form of nonviolent direct action against speeding traffic. We weren’t blocking the road; cars could still drive past, but significantly slower.
This stretch of road runs through a high-traffic area, with a primary school just steps from the ecovillage. Children walk and play here, but cars often speed through. The human circle sends a powerful message: this is a shared and heavily populated space, please consider your speed.
Beyond their own walls—where they have been working on ecological, economic, and social sustainability for 30 years—residents of LA Ecovillage are fighting for a neighbourhood that is more connected, sustainable, and safe. As they negotiate with the City Council to make this small street a no-car zone—envisioning using the space for community activities such as zumba and shared meals—they have been busy planting macadamia nut trees, building permeable sidewalks to infiltrate rainwater, and creating a beautiful garden—“one of the few places in LA you can hear birds”—where locals can immerse themselves in nature and learn about ecology.
I often encounter stereotypes about intentional communities[1]: that they’re insular bubbles, withdrawing from society to attempt private utopias. But my experience of visiting over 50 communal living models across the US and Australia[2]—many of which define as intentional communities—has been the opposite. These are not self-interested isolated enclaves—they’re engines of change. Many are building resilience within their neighbourhoods as well as advocating for more socially, ecologically, and environmentally sustainable systems further afield. Increasingly, data[3] backs this up, for instance, the Cohousing Research Network’s (CRN) annual survey which offers insight into positive ripple impacts of cohousing, which is a growing form of intentional community, particularly in the US.
Courtesy of Lost Valley Education Centre and Intentional Community
Intentional communities as catalysts for change
Below are just some of the ways these communities are making an impact far beyond benefits for residents:
1. Hubs for volunteering, activism, and stewardship
Attracting people committed to positive change, communities often serve as a base for grassroots organising. For example, over the lead-up to the election Berkeley Cohousing in the Bay Area used their common space to host phone-banking events, during which volunteers from both inside and outside the community made calls to potential voters. One resident described this room as “a launch pad to do so many other things,” from campaigning to baby showers.
Communities themselves are often established with a core ecological ethos; CRN’s survey[3] on cohousers in the US revealed that 79.1 percent believe their community does more to reduce its carbon footprint, conserve resources, and live sustainably than nearby neighborhoods. Beyond this, many inspire and catalyse environmental action outside their walls, such as Murundaka cohousing community in a Melbourne suburb. They first mapped local sustainability work, going on to support many of the initiatives such as vegetable planting (as part of the Transition Town movement) which, according to a resident, has “flourished since [Murundaka] was established.” Over in Adelaide Hills, Cennedyness, a small intentional community established on feminist principles in 1978, has built a “Kanga Palace” after rescuing various joeys whose mothers were killed in roadkill accidents. This has involved ensuring the land is safe, protected, and spacious for the kangaroos and nearby animals, as well as tirelessly feeding the babies throughout the night to ensure healthy growth.
At Canticle Farm—an intentional community in Oakland—residents are dedicated to activism on issues such as climate change, systemic racism, and immigrant rights. Functioning through a gift economy, the community provides a secure and affordable base for those committed to social justice. Furthermore, three of the homeshares on the urban farm are reserved for people who have experienced systemic discrimination, namely indigenous people, families seeking asylum, and men of colour leaving incarceration.
Left: courtesy of Canticle Farm. Centre: author, Savannah Fishel, helps resident garden at Magic, Palo Alto. Right: author with rescued kangaroo at Cennedyness, Adelaide Hills
2. Sharing spaces and resources
“Economies of scale”—the cost advantages from living more communally—mean a lot of communities have useful amenities such as large event rooms and tool sheds. Around 70 percent of respondents to the CRN annual survey[3] reported that outside organisations had used their community’s common spaces before the Covid-19 pandemic. Common uses I have come across include fundraisers, exhibitions, concerts, educational workshops, activities such as dance, support groups such as Men’s Sheds, civic meetings, upcycling, and group therapy.
Camphill California—a homesharing community for people with and without disabilities—recently hosted over 80 people to celebrate a neighbour’s life who used to visit for occasions such as Thanksgiving, as he did not have family close by. Also in California, a resident at Temescal Commons cohousing community spoke to me about the value of providing “somewhere safe for the kids to come.” Their community space is open to friends of resident teens, a refuge away from home, especially important for those with tumultuous family dynamics.
3. Education and skill sharing
Across communities in the US and Australia, residents are not strangers to running workshops and hosting tours. Communities tend to be passionate about spreading their approaches to social and ecological sustainability, with some offering free accommodation programmes to eager learners. Common topics include permaculture, conflict resolution, DIY, and carpentry.
For example Christie Walk, an urban ecological cohousing development in Adelaide, has welcomed 1,850 in the last two years alone. Interaction with locals sits at the cornerstone of Christie Walk’s approach; one resident said, “we always said we didn’t want to lock our community—we encourage people walking through.”
Left: tour of Christie Walk, courtesy of Urban Ecology. Right: resident and rooster, courtesy of LA Ecovillage
4. Building social cohesion
At their core, these communities are about fostering connection—often bridging manufactured societal divides such as age, race, and socioeconomic status. Residents work to create inclusive spaces, addressing discrimination and interpersonal challenges head-on. This includes cocreating conflict resolution processes and hosting local events, such as potluck meals, clothes swaps, and community fairs. In Palo Alto, Magic—an intentional community grounded in valuescience—cohosts neighbourhood gatherings for 100+ people to foster community bonds, providing entertainment through their own community band as well as leading set-up and clean-up.
My scope has been broad, including visits to community-oriented supported housing, such as HiFi Collective in LA. Here, residents need stable housing and struggle with chronic physical and mental health issues, including loneliness. The community has a social focus, intentionally promoting relationships amongst residents, building a community of trust and support. One older resident struggled at first to accept her neighbours, but through a mix of gentle intervention by staff coupled with event programming designed to foster meaningful connection, she has developed a close bond with her younger Transgender neighbour, and they now share clothes and meals. As a resident at Canticle Farm put it, “It’s about relationships. Proximity changes a lot—when you live together, stigma goes out the window.”
The work of these communities to foster relationships both amongst members, and with neighbours outside of community, helps with longterm resilience as social connections organically lead to more mutual aid and support. A resident at LA Ecovillage shared how important this is for her as a single parent without family in the country; “residents of all ages have figured out so many thoughtful ways to connect with my daughter; she now has a web of caring people around her.”
Setting an example: inspiration through existence
As well as the myriad tangible ways intentional communities can benefit society, through their very existence these places also play a pivotal role of providing hope, experimentation, and inspiration in a world where these can be sparse.
The UK, Australia, and the US are all societies which are increasingly disconnected while loneliness and mental ill health statistics soar, where pressures around consumerism are everywhere yet we face a climate crisis, and the nuclear family is constantly presented as the most legitimate way of living whilst there are more single-person households than ever[4].
Intentional communities can be seen as a form of “prefigurative politics”; instead of fighting unequal systems through forms such as protest (though many individual residents will do this) they create change through building and showing new solutions which embody values of egalitarianism and sustainability. According to CRN, nearly 90 percent of cohousing residents reported feeling that their community provides a model for positive social or environmental change[3]. At the Lost Valley Education Center, an intentional community in Oregon grounded in holistic permaculture and nonviolent communication, one member said to me “our version of activism is creating something new and better.” A very different example is the Queen City Cooperative in Colorado, a limited equity cooperative in a single home. They offer affordable housing during a housing crisis and a “family-like” community based on mutual aid, connection, and collaboration. The founders, who are bringing up a child in this house, fought to change state law around barriers to living together as unrelated adults.
Why this matters
Intentional communities address some of today’s most pressing challenges, namely:
Loneliness and isolation: through fostering deep social connections and support networks.
Housing insecurity: while it is true that some are no cheaper than traditional housing options, many communities do provide affordable—or fully subsidised—living.
Climate crisis: by demonstrating sustainable, low-impact lifestyles and catalysing important work such as regeneration.
Social resilience: through bridging divides, fostering empathy, and functioning as inclusive community anchors.
Intentional communities provide live evidence beds for tackling some of society’s most wicked problems, and they themselves can be catalysts for positive change. Through more showcasing of the vast opportunities presented through intentional communal housing models, I hope that interest, advocacy, and investment will increase, so that we can move toward a place where policy facilitates, instead of disincentivises, living more communally.
Visiting Australia and the US on a UK-funded Churchill Fellowship, Savannah Fishel has visited over 50 models of community-oriented housing, such as ecovillages, tiny home villages, and cohousing. Her blog, thinkitforward.net, explores how we can live together more collaboratively, compassionately, and sustainably. Both personally and professionally, she is interested in the power of intergenerational initiatives to tackle loneliness, bridge divides, and provide an alternative to an increasingly individualistic society. Feel free to connect with her at savfishel1@gmail.com.
[1] Group of people who have chosen to live together or share resources on the basis of common values.—ic.org/foundation-for-intentional-community
[2] A project funded by the Churchill Fellowship (see thinkitforward.net/communal-living).
[3] Berggren, Heidi M., LaDona G Knigge, Chuck MacLane, Diane Margolis, Jane Nichols, Neil Planchon, and Angela Sanguinetti. “Antecedents and Effects of Cohousing: A Study of Cohousing Communities and Forming-Groups in the United States—Five-Year Annual Survey (2022-2026),” Cohousing Research Network (see cohousingresearchnetwork.org).
[4] In Australia, more than one in four (26 percent) households are now occupied by one person—up from 24 percent in 2016 and 18 percent in 1981 [aifs.gov.au/media/households-shrink-more-people-living-alone]. In the US, single-person households have increased more than fivefold, from 6.9 million in 1960 to 38.1 million in 2022 [usafacts.org/articles/how-has-the-structure-of-american-households-changed-over-time]. In the UK, between 2013 and 2023 there has been an 8 percent increase in people living alone [ons.gov.uk/peoplepopulationandcommunity/birthsdeathsandmarriages/families/bulletins/familiesandhouseholds/2023#:~:text=In%202023%2C%20the].
