Another experiment in communism from the beginning of the 20th Century was the Israeli kibbutz (a communal farm), an early type of Zionist settlement. The first kibbutz was founded in 1909 along the principles of communism including shared wages and communal child rearing, and was intended to be a self-sustaining agrarian community. The early kibbutzim (plural of kibbutz) worked very hard to farm and build for themselves, but quickly realized the impracticalities associated with mere subsistence. The next logical step was for each kibbutz to specialize, and to share the products of its labor over a wider area; and soon a strong network of farming communities was formed. Some kibbutzim became very successful and during the 1970’s and 1980’s began restructuring from a wage sharing system to differential wages depending on individual roles on the farm, and letting members have private ownership of property {18}. These are referred to as a “renewing kibbutz”, and make up some 72% of the kibbutz population today. Therefore, while the majority of kibbutzim are no longer strictly communist, they still function as larger individuals within a cooperative system. In terms of sustainability this model enormously reduces dependence on imports and the embedded carbon footprint of transportation. The continuing specialization of kibbutzim has resulted in communities that function as autonomous corporations, and together account for 9% of the Israeli economy and 40% of Israeli agricultural production {19}. These communal farms and factories are often organic, local and self-sufficient within their relatively small geographic territory. If there is a conclusion to be made from an analysis of the history of communism, it is that communism doesn’t work. At least not for long, and not in today’s fledgling globalized environment. More disturbing is that under practical, real world circumstances, it may take a dictatorship to instigate sustainable practices since the general consensus among politicians and economists is that the economy is more important than the environment. Environmentalism in a democracy is conceivable, but a majority of the population would need to vote for environmental reforms – a move often framed by its political opponents as a vote against progress. Indeed, from analyzing several lists tallying the most sustainable countries in the world, it appears that a nation’s progress in sustainable development is usually a function of geography. Examples of these nations include Iceland with its ample sources of geothermal energy, or Costa Rica with its abundant rainforests, or conversely Saudi Arabia and the United States with their oil wealth. Politics can have an effect, but often only in terms of stability. Whether ruled by democracy, communism, socialism or a monarchy, it seems that each country must identify those geographic traits that make it unique, and leverage them to achieve sustainability. Ultimately, the values of the government – whether upheld by an individual dictator or the combined will of the people – can make the process of reaching carbon neutrality easier or more difficult.