Intentional Communities
What these places are, the forms they take, what they ask of you, and how to tell them apart.
The phrase covers an ecovillage in Portugal, a cohousing block in Copenhagen, and a farm in Missouri where nobody has a private income. What they share is not architecture or ideology. It is that the arrangement was chosen and made explicit, rather than inherited.
That is also the useful test when you are looking at a place and trying to work out what it actually is. Not how green is it or how radical does it sound, but: what do these people share, who decides, and what happens when someone wants to leave?
The forms they take
Four labels do most of the work, and they answer different questions.
| Dimension | What is shared | What is private |
|---|---|---|
| Cohousing | Facilities — usually a common house and kitchen | Home, income, most of daily life |
| Ecovillage | An ecological design intent; often land | Varies widely between projects |
| Commune | Income, and usually property | Personal space, and little else financially |
| Co-op / land trust | Legal ownership of the land or building | Homes, income, day-to-day decisions |
Two of these get confused constantly, because an ecovillage often uses cohousing architecture. Cohousing and ecovillage told apart is the longer answer.
A better way to tell them apart
Labels describe what a place calls itself. These five dimensions describe what it actually is, and they predict daily life far better:
| Dimension | Ranges from | to |
|---|---|---|
| Purpose | A single focus — farming, faith, affordability | Broad regeneration of land, culture and livelihood |
| Economic model | Independent households sharing costs | Full income pooling |
| Governance | A founder who decides | Consent or consensus among everyone |
| Land ownership | Individually owned homes | A trust or foundation that owns everything |
| Lifestyle | Urban, on-grid, secular, come and go | Rural, off-grid, shared practice, deeply committed |
Two places calling themselves ecovillages can sit at opposite ends of every row. Two places with different labels can be nearly identical. Ask about the five, not the name.
The first row is the one communities answer worst. Ask why a place exists and you will get five good things — affordability, ecology, raising children well, growing food, not being lonely. All five are real, and on an ordinary day they do not compete. What is worth finding out is which one wins: a purpose is less a mission statement than a tie-breaker, the thing a group agreed to fall back on the year the solar array and the second family’s deposit want the same money and neither side is being unreasonable.
A community that cannot name one has not avoided the choice. It has deferred it to whoever is most persuasive on the night.
Which kind of community fits you?
Five questions, along the five dimensions that actually predict daily life. There is no right answer — the point is to find out what you are looking for before you go looking.
What each result means
- Cohousing
- Your own front door and your own finances, with neighbours you actually know. The lowest-risk form here: if it does not work out you sell a home much like any other. Best when you want company and shared facilities rather than a shared economy.
- Ecovillage
- The ecological work is the point — land, water, food, the long horizon. Expect far more variation in what you are joining, and read carefully: the label is self-applied and covers everything from three households to several hundred.
- Commune or income-sharing community
- Shared income and usually shared property. It removes internal wealth gaps and most wage-based hierarchy, and it asks for the deepest interdependence of any form here. Read the exit terms before anything else.
- Housing co-operative or land trust
- A legal structure more than a lifestyle: the land or building is held collectively and you hold a right to live there. Strong on affordability and permanence, lighter on shared daily life than the other three.
How decisions actually get made
This is the part that decides whether a place lasts. Most communities run on some form of consensus or consent , and the difference matters more than newcomers expect: consensus asks everyone to agree, consent asks whether anyone has a reasoned objection. The first is warmer and, past a certain size, hands a quiet veto to whoever is most persistent.
What predicts trouble is not which method a group picked. It is whether the method is written down, whether anyone can name who decides what, and whether there is a way to change the rules that everybody already agreed to before they needed it.
Money, and what joining costs
There is no standard answer, and this hub publishes no figures — the only aggregate cost data we could find is twenty self-selected American communities, and nothing at all for Europe. What is worth knowing is the shape: in most forms entry is an ordinary local property price, because you are buying a home and competing with everyone else in that town for it.
What matters more than the number is what the money buys: equity you can sell, a right to live somewhere you never own, or a refundable deposit whose terms nobody wrote down.
The question worth asking before any of it: what happens to that money if I leave? A community that has not answered it in writing has not answered it at all.
What daily life is like
Less dramatic than people expect. Shared meals a few times a week, a work commitment measured in hours, more meetings than you would like, and neighbours who notice when you are struggling. The gains people report are consistent — children with a dozen trusted adults, old age that is not spent alone, and the ordinary relief of not owning your own ladder.
The costs are consistent too: less privacy, slower decisions, and conflict you cannot avoid by moving away from it.
What breaks them
Rarely the thing people expect. Not usually money and almost never the composting. Communities break on unexamined power, on conflict nobody was willing to name, on founders who could not let go, and on rules that were never written down and so could never be changed.
These patterns repeat closely enough to be written down and tested for. The RCOS stress tests do exactly that — around twenty documented failure modes, each with the conditions that produce it and what a community would have to have in place to survive it. Founder capture, invisible care labour, the privatisation of commons, emergency measures that quietly become permanent: if you are assessing a place, they are a more useful checklist than any list of green credentials.
Sources & further reading
- 1 Foundation for Intentional Community — directory and definitions
- 2 Global Ecovillage Network — ecovillage framing and network
- 3 RCOS Core v0.1 — the standard behind this hub
- 4 RCOS stress tests — documented failure modes, with pass and fail criteria
Written by EcoHubs members, with AI assistance for drafting and editing, and reviewed by a person before publication. Facts are checked against the sources listed; anything we could not verify is marked. How this is written
Told apart
- Cohousing vs ecovillage
They get used interchangeably and they are not the same thing. One is an architecture; the other is a purpose.
- Commune vs cohousing
The dividing line is money. One pools income and decides together how it is spent; the other shares a building and leaves your bank account alone.
- Intentional community vs commune
One is the category, the other is one option inside it — and a minority one. Most intentional communities are not communes.
Words used here
- Cohousing
- Private self-contained homes clustered around shared facilities — usually a common house — with residents managing the whole.
- Commune
- A community that shares income and usually property, so membership means economic interdependence rather than proximity.
- Ecovillage
- A community consciously designing its social, ecological, economic and cultural systems to regenerate the place it sits in.
- Intentional community
- A group who chose each other, live together or close by, and have written down how they decide things.