6 Carefully Planned 'Utopias' That Went Spectacularly Insane

Why It Failed:

Well, the assassination of President McKinley by anarchist Leon Czolgosz in 1901 didn't help matters. Angry mobs of Civil War veterans threatened to burn down the commune, and the rest of the country's attitude toward "just doin' whatever feels good, man" took a negative turn. But that's not what did Home in. No, what tore the town apart was something much more serious and sinister than a presidential assassination:

Skinny dipping.

Home's population split in twain over what always seemed to be its biggest draw: nude swimming. With the town divided into two groups -- pro and con (identified as "nudes" and "prudes") -- Home's otherwise unified identity was shattered forever. In 1919, its anarchist government was brought to court on charges of being "wholly impotent" -- although to be fair, maybe that was due to all the nude swimming. There are only so many bare taints you can ram into during a game of Marco Polo before the li'l admiral just starts refusing to salute, you know?

The Republic of Minerva was located on an artificial island built upon a submerged atoll about 500 miles northeast of New Zealand. Despite being little more than a meeting place for a bunch of rich men on yachts, the Republic of Minerva had its own president and currency and was conceived with the hope of one day attracting around 30,000 full-time inhabitants who may or may not devolve into genetically spliced monsters and overthrow society. That part was still up for debate.

Why It Failed:

None of the multimillionaires who lived on Minerva actually owned the land they planned to found their nation on. Turns out the "land" part of "homeland" isn't just textual window dressing.

Nonetheless, on January 19, 1972, the Republic of Minerva issued a declaration of independence, essentially trying to snatch the Minerva Reefs located south of Fiji and Tonga under the "you weren't even using it" law. Six months later, the Tongan government issued a proclamation saying they owned the reef and sent an expeditionary force to back up the claim. A Republic of Minerva flag was found and taken down by King Tupou of Tonga himself, but otherwise the island fell without a fight. Subsequent return attempts by deluded selfish boat-yuppies were thwarted by Tongan troops. However, after the fiasco, nearby Fiji challenged the Tonga government's claim to the Minerva Reefs, resulting in a conflict between their two navies. But hey, at least a bunch of Ayn Rand fans got to take a wacky picture:

Seems a small price to pay for an international war.

Wow, that's gorgeous, isn't it? It looks like one of those peaceful alien planets on Star Trek, right before the Borg show up and assimilate a bunch of screaming aliens with forehead wrinkles. But it's not science fiction. Arcosanti is a real place -- it still stands today!

Why It Failed:

Did we mention that this lush, artsy paradise was located in central Arizona?

It was a planned community estimated to sustain roughly 5,000 citizens at first -- but with room to grow! Now, after nearly 40 years of architectural perfection, Arcosanti is still going strong, a measly 4,900 citizens short of its initial projected goal. We're guessing it has something to do with building a fantastic city in the middle of nowhere in an area where the average salary is minimum wage.

Seriously, it's impossible to underscore how far away from anything Arcosanti is located. Arizona is basically one giant set piece for the next Mad Max movie anyway, and Arcosanti is firmly wedged deep up its rural behind. The nearest town whose population exceeds its elevation is nearly 30 miles away. The only way into Arcosanti is down a tiny 3-mile dirt road split off of a rural highway. It's like a real-life Sudden Valley.

Why It Failed:

One of the Harmony Society's core tenets was celibacy, remember? Assuming that Christ doesn't come back to exterminate our entire species with his love, "just not fuckin' much" is a pretty good way to doom a culture. The celibacy of the Harmony Society was so radically encouraged that eventually there were almost no new births in their communities at all. By 1851, the last two surviving leaders of the Harmony Society had died. Almost certainly as virgins.

Brook Farm, Massachusetts, was established in 1841 on the principle of self-reliance as preached by Ralph Waldo Emerson and Henry David Thoreau. They offered free tuition at their community school and a year's worth of room and board in return for a mere 300 days of labor for the public good. Seems like a fair shake, right?

Why It Failed:

Well, 300 days of work per year translates into roughly six days of work per week. Sure, free tuition and room and board seem great -- that takes care of most of your dire needs -- but you still require money to exist. Money for health care, travel, or just good old-fashioned hooch -- what is life without hooch? And for that matter, why is everybody's idea of a utopia "no boning or liquor"?

So, OK, six days of labor a week for what was essentially sub-minimum wage seems like less of a killer deal to the young folk wanting some schoolin', but it gets worse. Brook Farm's founder, George Ripley, joined the Fourierism movement. Fourierism was basically socialism by way of seniority, and as such called on the town's young people to do all the dirtiest, nastiest, shittiest jobs in the community. This new practice caused a lot of young folks to avoid Brook Farm like it was infected with smallpox.

Which it eventually was.