Taiwan Israel Chamber of Commerce. First released in July, 2025. The content was developed with contribution of AI assistance. For non-commercial use.
When people talk about retirement, the conversation often centers on pensions, travel plans, or finding ways to "stay busy." But in Taiwan—and increasingly across East Asia—a deeper conversation has begun. What does life after work really mean? Is it a winding down, or a chance to finally wake up?
This is not a theoretical question. It's a growing societal issue. In places like Taiwan, South Korea, and Japan, people are living longer than ever, but many find themselves facing retirement with a deep sense of emptiness. After decades of structured roles—employee, parent, provider—suddenly there is a vast open space. The calendar is clear, the responsibilities fade, and for the first time, the question arises: “Now what?”
In this search for answers, something unexpected happened: we started looking to Israel—and more specifically, to Kibbutz.
Rediscovering the Kibbutz — Through Foreign Eyes
For us—for people outside of Israel—the Kibbutz represents something remarkable. It’s a model that combines social connection, shared purpose, lifelong learning, and intergenerational support. In a world increasingly focused on individual achievement and competition, Kibbutz reminds us of a forgotten truth: that belonging matters.
In Taiwan, we’ve seen a surge of retirees who don’t want to fade quietly into the background. They want to give back. They want to learn, teach, build, and be part of something. But the existing structures don’t support this. Families are more fragmented. Neighborhoods are less connected. The traditional respect for elders remains in theory, but not always in practice. And most retirement plans assume people just want leisure—not purpose.
That’s where our interest in the Kibbutz comes in. Not because we want to recreate it exactly, but because we believe its principles could help us answer some of our most urgent social questions.
Beneath the Surface: the Life Pipeline
In many East Asian cultures, life is organized like a pipeline. You study hard, get into a good university, start a respectable job, get married, buy a home, raise children, and eventually retire. Every step is tied to status, stability, and social expectation.
But what happens when you exit the pipeline? For many, retirement doesn’t feel like freedom. It feels like being cut loose. People often describe a sudden sense of invisibility—like their roles defined their worth, and once those roles are gone, so is their value.
We’ve met engineers, teachers, executives, and even former public servants who all shared the same quiet realization: they had no idea who they were outside of their careers. And even worse, they didn’t know where to go to rediscover their identity.
This is not just a Taiwanese or Asian issue. It’s a human one. But in societies where conformity is prized and personal expression is often delayed until "after responsibilities are fulfilled," the impact is especially severe.
Retirement as a Beginning, Not an End
This is why the second half of life matters so much—and why we call it not retirement, but “second life.”
We’ve observed that when people are given space and encouragement, retirement can become a period of incredible transformation. Some start painting or writing, not because they’re trying to become artists, but because they finally can. Others dive into volunteering, mentoring, or community service. Some launch small businesses. Some join book clubs, learning circles, or social action groups. The common theme? They’re no longer trying to “achieve.” They’re trying to live meaningfully.
But for this transformation to happen, people need more than free time. They need connection. They need community. And they need a reason to get up in the morning beyond “keeping busy.”
This is what drew our attention to Kibbutz—not just as a physical space, but as a social idea.
How Kibbutz Model Fascinates East Asia
From the outside, the Kibbutz model offers a fascinating case study in reimagining aging—not as a decline, but as a shift into a different kind of contribution. In many Kibbutzim, older residents remain active participants. They mentor. They organize. They belong. And perhaps most importantly, they are not isolated.
Kibbutz holds a key that we believe is missing in many other societies: it provides a framework for aging with dignity, purpose, and social engagement.
We don’t plan to “copy” the Kibbutz model in Taiwan or elsewhere in East Asia. That would never work culturally or practically. But we want to learn from it. We want to understand how shared responsibility, cooperative living, and values-based community can be adapted to our context—where elders are respected but often left alone, where social fabric is thinning, and where people long for a life of contribution after retirement.
Creating New Forms of Community
What might this look like in practice? We are anticipating different models:
Interest-based groups: where retirees gather around art, music, gardening, or writing.
Co-creative hubs: where older adults collaborate with younger generations on local projects.
Micro-communities: where people don’t live together, but meet regularly to share, learn, and grow.
Supportive networks: where emotional and social support are just as important as economic planning.
Some of these initiatives already exist in scattered form. What’s missing is a coherent vision—something that ties them together and gives people hints to think differently about what aging can look like.
That’s what Kibbutz has given us—an inspiration. A way to reimagine what’s possible when people live not just near each other, but with each other.
From Israel to Taiwan, and Back Again
In a world that often idolizes youth and productivity, Kibbutz reminds us that the later stages of life can be just as rich—when we shift our focus from competition to contribution, from independence to interdependence.
We know this idea may sound idealistic. But we’ve already seen how powerful it can be when older adults find spaces where they are not just supported—but needed.
As we move forward, we (Taiwan Israel Chamber of Commerce) are facilitating exchanges, dialogues, and visits between Taiwan and Israel. Not to export the Kibbutz. Not to commercialize it. But to understand its spirit and its lessons, so that we might build something inspired by it, in our own way.
Conclusion: Awakening Together
Retirement does not need to be a retreat. It can be a reawakening. But this awakening is easier, deeper, and more joyful when shared.
In Taiwan, we are searching for ways to age together, to learn together, and to grow into the second half of life with the same energy we once brought to our careers and families.
And in that search, we have found something deeply valuable in your story. Thank you, friends from Kibbutz—for living it, and for letting the rest of us learn from it.