I’m coming to the end of a two month Churchill Fellowship journey through California and Oregon to explore how communal-oriented housing initiatives - such as housing cooperatives, cohousing, ecovillages, tiny home villages and permanent supported housing - can build social cohesion, with a special interest in intergenerational communities. Thus far the trip has included visits to 36 communities - 15 of which self-identify as ‘cohousing’ - as well as engaging with plenty online.
From what I’ve seen, who is living in these communities, what’s their motivation, and how are they finding it?
Why this project?
My Churchill Fellowship sets out to explore housing innovations where building community isn’t just an afterthought but a design principle. As we face deep social fragmentation - including political polarisation, drastic economic inequality, and generational segmentation within ageing populations - reimagining how we live together is critical.
For me, this is personal. I know through my work that social connection sits at the core of a huge variety of complex social and health challenges, and in my life, friendships across generations have been formative. A lack of genuine, meaningful connections contributes to widespread loneliness and isolation, exacerbated by the engrained sentiment that the nuclear family is the most legitimate, efficient or fulfilling way of living.
This project isn’t just about addressing loneliness or housing shortages. It’s about challenging cultural norms and rethinking how we build community and foster belonging beyond manufactured divides.
Who are the people living in these communities?
‘I love home sharing - connecting, cooking, caring for others. This community has given me a purpose, and people here have become like sons and daughters’ - resident at Camphill
People are curious about who community-orientated housing attracts, often returning to stereotypes of new age hippies or idealists. Truthfully it’s an extremely diverse spectrum; some communities are counter cultural, or connected through an ideology - and others are not. Across the board communities tend to be united through a shared belief in the power of relationships. People who believe housing should be more than a roof over our heads - but a foundation for the social connection necessary for a flourishing life.
Over the past two months, I’ve met a wide array of individuals living in community-orientated housing. Some common traits stand out:
Those experiencing transition: Many residents are in the midst of significant life changes - for example around divorce, gender, retirement, parenthood and death - searching for stability during these shifts.
Intentional seekers and happy accidents: Some people are actively searching for a deeper sense of belonging and connection - I have met people who have been building or hunting for their community over decades - while others stumble into these spaces, driven by motives such as affordability (many communities I have visited are either low income housing or intentionally below market rate) and environmental sustainability.
Community contributors: Generally people I have met are dedicated to making a positive impact in broader society. Far from being exclusive enclaves, these communities tend to be highly engaged in their surrounding community, benefiting locals whether it be sharing their community spaces, protecting biodiversity and native species, hosting educational activities, building and sharing community gardens or pulling together around political activism.
How do these spaces feel?
‘Before I was completely disconnected from what’s going on beyond my front door. Here, I know all my neighbours and they know me’ - resident at a cohousing community in California.
Intentional communities feel fundamentally different from conventional housing. Imagine stepping into a space where shared meals, communal gardens, and multipurpose spaces are the norm.
I have seen ‘economies of scale’ facilitate a wide range of shared amenities such as: workshops, art spaces, music rooms, play areas, chicken coops, vegetable gardens, gyms and industrial kitchens, often with a significant portion of energy generated through solar. What’s more, as residents’ situations shift - for instance access requirements or a growing family - it is often possible to upsize or downsize units, embedding that sense of permanence through life’s stages.
Above all, the sense that people are truly neighbours is palpable. Not everyone will be close friends - like every gathering of human beings, there will be a spectrum of relationships. But people do know all their neighbours and small acts of kindness are the norm, such as: meal trains for sick people; pet-sitting; sharing childcare; baking for one another; sharing clothes; rides to appointments; troubleshooting or DIY support; collecting someone’s post whilst they’re away; flexibility with payments in tough times; skill sharing such as tech support - and for me, a kind resident jump-starting my failing rental car at 8am in the pouring rain (twice!).
Community, not utopia
‘A bunch of people living together means people think differently and not everyone will get on - like family! But we care for one another and are committed to something greater than each individual’ - resident at Santa Rosa Creek Commons
Sharing spaces, (some) resources and decisions requires a level of collaboration, compromise, and communication vastly dissimilar to most people’s prior experiences. Many residents have told me that entering with a realistic expectation is key for satisfaction. Often, the very elements that make these communities so enriching can be hard work. Below I outline some common challenges:
Conflict is inevitable. Whether it’s differences in parenting approaches, how funds are allocated, or personality clashes, disagreements arise regularly and are best dealt with directly (you can find my blog on conflict at thinkitforward.net). Often communities are balancing values such as ecological sustainability, comfort, affordability and non-hierarchy, and disagreements over which to prioritise will arise in many situations.
Contributions and accountability can be tricky. Many communities rely on shared labour in areas such as cooking, cleaning, maintenance or conflict mediation. Attempting to maintain a level of fairness when it comes to contribution, whilst building a culture of trust, is a delicate balancing act. Resentment can be poisonous in community, whilst unnecessary bureaucracy can lead to burnout. Thriving communities find a happy medium, leaning on thorough co-created processes where needed, and accepting that this will need to shift and evolve as the resident cohort changes.
Decision-making can be slow. Many communities use an adapted consensus-based process, which, while democratic and inclusive, can be time-consuming and frustrating. One common approach is ‘consensus minus one’, and I have also come across many adapted versions of sociocracy which allows for intersected ‘circles’ to focus on and make decisions around specific areas.
Turnover and transitions can test the resilience of communities, but without this there is a risk of stagnancy. Many residents have shared with me the importance of fresh energy, and evolution of vision and practices. Founders can be highly attached to original agreements which can cause tension. At the same time, long-term members often hold deep collective wisdom which can take years to rebuild. Welcoming, respecting, integrating and onboarding new members is a critical process that requires intentionality.
Despite these hurdles, I hear again and again: “now I can’t imagine ever living another way”. The challenges themselves often become opportunities for growth and communities tend to benefit from tackling them head-on. Residents have also shared countless stories of how their communities had rallied together in particularly challenging times - such as the Covid pandemic, supporting a family through illness and collectively rebuilding after a natural disaster (for instance, Monan’s Rill which suffered a devastating fire) - you can read my blog on communities’ response to the recent US election here.
These moments reveal a true strength of intentional communities: they provide not just a home but a network of support in a fragmented world, whilst delivering tangible benefit to broader society.
What next for me?
I will be visiting a range of housing projects in Australia before returning to the UK - you can stay updated here. I am eager to contribute to the community-led housing movement, and support a broad range of intergenerational work centered on connection, collaboration and care. Innovations in these spaces are necessary to tackle the scale of the challenges we face around division, loneliness and health - I believe that we need radical change to not only how we live but how we relate to one another.
By Savannah Fishel - subscribe to her blog at www.thinkitforward.net
This blog was first written for and published on the UK Cohousing Network.