Introduction
Summary of the book Doughnut Economics by Kate Raworth. Before we start, let’s delve into a short overview of the book. Imagine if everything you thought about the economy was only half the story. Picture an economic system not as an endless race for more money and bigger numbers, but as a balanced space where everyone can live well without wrecking the planet’s life support systems. This is exactly what the doughnut model of economics sets out to do. Instead of always chasing limitless growth, it encourages us to focus on fairness, sustainability, and human well-being. It shows that we can have thriving communities, stable societies, and healthy ecosystems if we learn to work within the Earth’s boundaries. This might sound unusual, but it’s actually common sense once you think about it: no home, school, or country can survive if it uses more resources than it gives back. Read on to discover how changing our thinking can reshape the way we live and help us create a better future.
Chapter 1: Discovering the Surprising Doughnut-Shaped Framework That Rethinks Economics for Our Modern Century.
Imagine holding a soft, round doughnut in your hand. But this isn’t just a sweet snack; it’s a new way of imagining our economy. At first glance, you see a circle with a hole in the middle. Inside that ring lies a space that represents the safe and just world we want to create for everyone. The inner edge of the ring stands for what people need to lead healthy, happy lives: nutritious food, clean water, good education, and fair opportunities. The outer edge of the ring represents our planet’s environmental limits, like how much carbon dioxide we can release without causing dangerous climate change, or how many forests we can cut down before nature collapses. The doughnut shape reminds us that we must find a safe middle ground, where people flourish without pushing Earth’s systems past breaking points.
The doughnut idea was developed because the old way of thinking about economics simply isn’t working. Traditional economics often assumes that the best path forward is never-ending growth—more factories, more products, more energy use, and more spending. But if we push growth too far, we start to see serious problems. Forests shrink, ice caps melt, weather turns wild, and animal species vanish. At the same time, not everyone shares the benefits of this growth. Many remain poor, hungry, and excluded. The doughnut framework dares to question this pattern. It challenges us to place fairness and ecological care at the heart of our priorities rather than chasing bigger numbers on charts. In other words, it’s about realizing that the old grow at all costs mentality no longer serves humanity or the planet well.
What makes the doughnut approach so exciting is that it doesn’t just say stop growing and do nothing. Instead, it suggests a better balance. We need enough resources and money to ensure people are healthy, free, and able to reach their potential. But we also need to protect Earth’s life-support systems, like fresh air, clean rivers, and fertile soils. This is not about choosing between people and nature. It’s about understanding that human well-being and a healthy planet go together. If we push too hard on the environment, everyone eventually suffers. The doughnut model shows us that there’s a sweet spot right in the middle—just like the tasty part of a doughnut—where human needs are met, and nature can renew itself for future generations.
By thinking with this doughnut model, we start to see that the economy isn’t a stand-alone machine. It’s part of a much bigger system that includes social trust, human rights, cultural traditions, natural cycles, and community cooperation. The framework invites us to step away from old-fashioned economic theories that treat people like greedy robots and nature as a bottomless supply closet. Instead, it urges us to become caring guardians of Earth’s resources and thoughtful stewards of human potential. This vision shows that economics doesn’t have to be cold and distant. It can be warm and human-centered. As we journey through the next chapters, you’ll discover why old economic thinking misled us, why we must value what was once invisible, and how we can redesign our world to fit snugly into that doughnut-shaped safe space.
Chapter 2: Uncovering Why Old Economic Ideas Failed to See the Cracks in Their Foundation.
For decades, we relied on economic theories that treated growth as the ultimate goal. Many economists wore mental blinkers, believing that if a country’s economy kept expanding, everyone would eventually benefit. But over time, this thinking showed deep flaws. Financial crises blindsided experts who insisted markets would magically balance themselves. Climate disasters took them by surprise because they never counted the true costs of pollution. The gap between rich and poor widened because these theories didn’t care much about fairness. In short, old economics clung to neat formulas and tidy models that rarely matched the messy reality around us. Rather than admit that their mental tools were outdated, many experts kept insisting that their maps of the world were correct, even as real-world events kept proving them wrong.
One reason old economic thinking got stuck is that it saw itself as a perfect science, like physics, rather than a social study shaped by human choices and natural limits. By treating people as simple rational actors who chase money, these theories ignored the fact that humans also care about fairness, community, and ethics. By focusing on endless growth, they forgot that the Earth doesn’t have endless resources. As a result, this narrow view led to policies that damaged the environment and overlooked the well-being of many people. Economic lessons became too much about tricky math equations and not enough about understanding human nature, cooperation, kindness, and the needs of future generations. The results included broken promises, environmental crises, and struggling communities left behind by the growth-at-all-costs train.
If you think of old economic theories as old maps, they were drawn in an age when the world seemed bigger, resources felt infinite, and pollution was easy to hide. Now, we live in a time when the planet is clearly limited in size, and environmental damage is hitting home. It’s as if we’ve discovered we’re living on a small island with very limited supplies, yet our old maps keep telling us to paddle faster in search of endless treasures. The cracks in these old theories show up everywhere: rising temperatures, extreme weather, and shrinking wildlife habitats signal that old economics failed to guide us toward a long-term safe harbor. Instead of helping us thrive, these outdated ideas push us ever closer to a dangerous cliff’s edge.
Admitting that these old theories are flawed is both humbling and freeing. It’s humbling because we realize that smart people can still be wrong, and respected textbooks can still guide us astray. But it’s freeing because it means we can let go of harmful assumptions and search for better ways forward. We’re not stuck with the old map forever. We can draw a new one—one that focuses on healing the planet, taking care of each other, and building an economy where people’s worth isn’t measured only by how much they earn. The doughnut model points us in that direction. By accepting that old economics missed the mark, we open our minds to smarter, fairer, and more sustainable ways of understanding and shaping the world we live in.
Chapter 3: Tracing Our Journey From Ancient Thoughtful Balance to Modern Growth Obsession.
Hundreds of years ago, economic thought didn’t automatically mean chasing never-ending growth. In ancient civilizations, like those in Greece, the idea of managing resources was considered more of an art—knowing how to use what you had wisely and avoid waste. They understood that wealth wasn’t everything and that caring for the community mattered as much as piling up gold. Later, as centuries passed, people began treating economics like a science focused mainly on producing and consuming. New machines and technologies allowed faster production. Over time, the meaning of economy shifted away from balanced, careful household management to something more frantic—an engine that should always be revved up for more output, more sales, and more spending, as if speed and size were the only measures of success.
By the 18th and 19th centuries, famous thinkers like Adam Smith and John Stuart Mill were trying to understand how wealth was created and distributed. While some economists still cared about what was morally right, others turned their eyes to cold, mechanical models of how markets worked. Gradually, the economy came to be viewed as a machine that, if left alone, would reach a perfect balance. This idea fueled the belief that if we all just looked out for ourselves, the economy’s invisible hand would lift everyone up. But history showed that things weren’t so simple. Markets aren’t magical machines. They can break down, create winners and losers, and reward harmful behavior. Still, the dream of endless growth—of always getting more—took root and became deeply woven into modern policies.
The shift from understanding the economy as careful stewardship to seeing it as a growth machine happened partly because of how new economists measured success. Once the idea of gross domestic product (GDP) took hold, it was easy to become fixated on one big number. As long as that number went up, policymakers felt proud, assuming their countries were doing well. But GDP never asked if the money earned was fairly shared. It never asked if people were happy, healthy, or secure. It never asked if the forests were still standing, or if the rivers still ran clean. All that mattered was that the total value of goods and services kept rising. Over time, this obsession with GDP growth buried older traditions of balanced living and cooperative well-being.
Realizing this historical shift helps us see that today’s growth addiction isn’t natural or inevitable. It’s the product of choices, beliefs, and measures invented long ago. If people once lived with a more balanced view—valuing community and the Earth’s gifts—then we can rediscover that balance. Knowing that economics used to mean wise household management can inspire us. Perhaps we can combine old wisdom with new technologies to create a future less obsessed with bigger numbers and more focused on shared prosperity. Recognizing that the modern growth obsession is not set in stone gives us hope. We can rewrite our story by remembering lessons from the past, questioning the value of endless expansion, and returning to the idea of economy as a practice in caring for everyone’s long-term well-being.
Chapter 4: Revealing Why GDP and Traditional Metrics Hide What Truly Counts in Our Lives.
GDP—Gross Domestic Product—sounds important, and it is widely used to judge a country’s success. Yet, GDP is a blunt tool. It adds up all the goods and services produced, but it doesn’t distinguish between what’s beneficial and what’s harmful. If a factory pollutes a river but sells expensive products, GDP grows. If an oil spill leads to massive cleanup spending, GDP also grows. This metric never stops to ask if these activities are making our lives healthier or safer. It merely tallies up money movements. This narrow focus not only ignores the well-being of people; it also ignores the unpaid labor of parents raising children, neighbors helping neighbors, volunteers cleaning up parks, and countless other contributions that improve our communities but never show up as dollar signs.
Economist Simon Kuznets, one of the early developers of national income measurements, himself warned against using GDP as the sole measure of progress. He knew that it left out huge parts of our shared wealth—like education, clean air, supportive relationships, and mental well-being. By using GDP as a scoreboard, we act as if the only things that matter are those with price tags. Meanwhile, we miss the invisible treasure: the time parents spend teaching their kids to read, the quiet moments caring for sick relatives, the cultural traditions passed down for free, and the healthy ecosystems that give us fresh food and stable climates. These invisible layers of value hold society together, keep us happy and secure, yet they go unnoticed by GDP.
This blindness is dangerous. When governments and businesses ignore what cannot be easily counted, they often make decisions that harm long-term human and environmental health. They may invest more in industries that produce quick profits but poison the land. They may cut funding for social services that cost money but improve people’s quality of life. Over time, this creates a twisted picture of progress, one where a booming economy might sit alongside rising mental health problems, dirty air, or broken communities. In other words, relying on GDP alone to measure success is like judging a painting only by how much the frame costs, not noticing the beautiful art inside or the story it tells.
To fix this problem, we need broader, more honest measurements. Some countries and organizations are now experimenting with well-being indicators. These measures look at factors like access to education, affordable healthcare, strong social networks, environmental health, and overall happiness. They recognize that a truly successful society is one where everyone can meet their basic needs, grow as a person, and feel secure in the future. By embracing new ways to measure success, we can ensure that policies do more than just boost profits. They can nurture strong communities, safeguard our planet’s resources, and enrich our lives in ways that go far beyond a single number. Doing this helps us step closer to the safe and just space inside the doughnut’s sweet spot.
Chapter 5: Exploring the Hidden Helpers: Households, The Commons, and Public Services That Underpin Our Lives.
Think about all the work that goes on every day behind the scenes. Parents cook meals, grandparents tell stories, neighbors look out for each other’s homes. Teachers shape young minds, nurses comfort the sick, and firefighters keep us safe. There are also libraries lending books for free and public parks offering green spaces to relax. These actions—so common and familiar—are often ignored by standard economic measures. They don’t have neat price tags, and so their worth doesn’t show up in GDP. But imagine what would happen if all these unpaid, cooperative, and communal efforts vanished. Our lives would be poorer, colder, and more fragile. Recognizing the value of these hidden helpers shows us that the economy is more than just a marketplace. It’s a network of support systems that keep everything running smoothly.
Historically, economists often treated the economy as if it were just factories, stores, and banks. But at home, families prepare meals, clean, raise children, and care for the elderly. This isn’t officially counted, yet without it, no one would have the energy or stability to go out and engage in paid work. The same goes for the commons—things we all share, like parks, beaches, community halls, or even shared online knowledge like Wikipedia. These are places where people collaborate freely, swap ideas, and build trust without expecting to become rich. Similarly, public services like roads, education, and health clinics provide essential supports that allow businesses and households to function. Ignoring these elements is like trying to understand a tree by only looking at its fruit and ignoring the trunk, roots, and leaves.
Even the famous economist Adam Smith, who highlighted the power of self-interest in markets, relied on unpaid household labor. Smith benefited from his mother’s care while he wrote books that became world-famous. Yet he never mentioned her work or considered it part of the economy. This blind spot continues today. Many economic models skip over the home and the commons, pretending that only paid work counts. That leaves out a huge part of what makes our societies rich and resilient. If we forget these foundational activities, we risk making policies that hurt the very people who make everyday life possible. Recognizing these hidden supports can help us appreciate how interconnected we really are.
Once we broaden our view, we see an economy powered not just by money and markets, but also by love, cooperation, gifts, and shared resources. This understanding reminds us that economic health should not be measured only in profits and prices. It should include the strength of our communities, the fairness of our relationships, and the quality of our public goods. When we shine a light on the households, commons, and state services, we realize that real economic security comes from ensuring everyone’s needs are met, not just from chasing bigger sales figures. By appreciating these hidden helpers, we move closer to the doughnut’s core—where human well-being and environmental respect guide our decisions. Our world becomes richer, not by having more stuff, but by recognizing the invisible threads that hold society together.
Chapter 6: Rethinking Human Nature: Challenging the Myth That We Are All Greedy Profit-Chasers.
Some economics textbooks present humans as purely selfish creatures always trying to maximize personal gain. This imaginary character, often called rational economic man, cares only about getting as much as possible for himself. But if you look at how real people behave, you see a very different picture. People volunteer at shelters, donate to charities, share food with friends, and help strangers in need. They support each other during disasters and stand up for fairness, even if it costs them something. Humans are complicated, caring, social beings. We certainly care about our own needs, but we also value justice, kindness, teamwork, and moral principles. The problem is that by starting from a selfish assumption, old economic thinking shaped policies and rules that encourage selfishness, as if it were normal and good.
This flawed view of human behavior can create a self-fulfilling prophecy. When society is organized around the belief that everyone is out for themselves, people become more cautious, less trusting, and less generous. Over time, a culture of every man for himself takes hold. Yet, experiments show that humans naturally have a strong sense of fairness. Take the ultimatum game, where one person divides a sum of money, and the other can accept or reject the offer. If the split is unfair, people often reject the money—even if it means they get nothing—just to punish the greedy offer. This willingness to sacrifice personal gain for fairness proves that humanity is not built on greed alone. We care about dignity, fairness, and doing the right thing.
Recognizing the complexity of human nature allows us to design better policies and institutions. If we know people want to cooperate, we can build systems that reward teamwork and kindness rather than reckless competition. If we understand that fairness matters, we can create laws and regulations that prevent cheating and exploitation. We can encourage behaviors that strengthen communities instead of tearing them apart. By moving beyond the rational economic man, we open up a world where economic rules support our best qualities, not our worst instincts. In doing so, we make room for shared prosperity and trust, which are just as important to a healthy society as any market transaction.
When we recognize that human beings care deeply about fairness, relationships, and justice, we start to see how an economy could be designed to reflect those values. Instead of pitting people against each other, we can create cooperative enterprises, community banks, local food networks, and commons-based projects that bring out the best in us. We can encourage sharing economies that reduce waste and help everyone meet their needs. We can support ethical businesses that respect their workers, protect the environment, and treat customers honestly. By accepting that people are more than greedy profit-chasers, we allow our economy to mirror our true human strengths. This shift in perspective sets the stage for building a world where success is measured in well-being, fairness, and social harmony, not just money.
Chapter 7: Peering into Complexity: Seeing Economies as Interconnected Webs and Not Perfect Machines.
For a long time, many economists dreamed of finding perfect rules—like the laws of physics—to explain how economies work. They imagined that supply and demand lines would always cross neatly at a stable equilibrium point, where everything balanced out. But real-life economies are not like tidy clockwork. They are more like living ecosystems, full of feedback loops, surprises, and chain reactions. Just as a small event in nature can trigger big changes (like a few degrees of warming causing polar ice to melt, which changes ocean currents, affecting climate worldwide), a small policy shift in the economy can create big, unexpected ripples. Understanding this complexity requires us to admit that the economy is dynamic and messy, not a simple machine set to run smoothly forever.
A good way to understand complexity is to think about feedback loops. Some loops are reinforcing, pushing growth forward, like a rumor spreading faster and faster. Others are balancing, slowing things down or keeping them in check. Consider a flock of chickens near a busy road. The more chickens hatch, the more try to cross the road. This might increase their numbers if resources are abundant. But if cars frequently hit chickens, it lowers the flock’s size, introducing a balancing effect. Economies have countless loops like this. Markets can boom when investors get excited, but if excitement turns to panic, a crash can follow. Without acknowledging these feedback loops, economists can’t predict or prevent major downturns like the 2008 financial crisis, which blindsided experts who believed markets would always correct themselves.
This complexity means we should approach economic problems more like ecologists than engineers. Ecologists study how plants, animals, and climates interact, knowing that a small tweak in one area can reshape an entire ecosystem. Similarly, when we change tax laws, adjust interest rates, or invest in renewable energy, we must think about all the ripples these decisions create. We should anticipate unexpected outcomes and adapt as we learn. This approach helps us avoid placing blind faith in perfect markets and allows us to take responsibility for guiding our economies toward healthier outcomes. It encourages humility, patience, and openness to new information—exactly what we need in a complex, changing world.
Seeing the economy as a complex web frees us from the illusion that one simple formula or one-size-fits-all solution will solve every problem. Instead, it suggests we must constantly watch, learn, and evolve our policies. We might experiment with local currencies, green incentives, or new forms of business ownership and carefully observe the results. If something doesn’t work, we tweak or replace it. This trial-and-error approach, guided by values like fairness and sustainability, helps us avoid catastrophic errors and steers us into the doughnut’s safe zone. By embracing complexity, we acknowledge that uncertainty is part of life. We can’t predict every twist and turn, but we can remain flexible, responsible, and forward-looking. This mindset helps us build economies that stay resilient amid the storms of change.
Chapter 8: Cracking the Myth That Inequality Is Necessary and Finding Fairer Economic Designs.
Many people have been taught that inequality is just a price we pay for economic growth. The idea goes something like this: At first, a growing economy might create big gaps between rich and poor. But as the economy expands, wealth will trickle down, and everyone will eventually benefit. This belief was represented by something called the Kuznets curve—a theory that inequality automatically gets worse, then improves, as a nation grows richer. But when economists looked closely at real-world data, they couldn’t find convincing proof of this pattern. In fact, in many wealthy countries, inequality has kept rising, not falling. This means that making a society richer does not guarantee that wealth will be shared more fairly over time.
If growth alone can’t fix inequality, then what can we do? We can start by designing the economy differently. Consider the Bangla Pesa, a community currency created in a low-income district of Mombasa, Kenya. This currency doesn’t replace national money; it works alongside it. When normal cash is scarce, people can use the Bangla Pesa to trade locally produced goods and services. This helps small businesses survive tough times. By strengthening local networks and encouraging trading without always needing formal cash, the Bangla Pesa keeps people fed, housed, and supported even when the official economy struggles. This is just one example of designing new financial tools that make communities more equal and resilient.
The lesson is clear: We don’t have to accept inequality as a natural stage in development. Instead, we can create rules, institutions, and tools that ensure everyone benefits from progress. This might include fair tax systems that prevent the super-rich from hiding their fortunes in tax havens, minimum wage laws that protect workers, and policies that ensure women and minority groups have equal opportunities. It also means investing in education, healthcare, and housing so that everyone gets a fair chance to succeed. By actively shaping our economy to share wealth more evenly, we recognize that fairness is not a distant dream. It’s something we can build into the system right now.
Inequality damages trust, breaks communities, and limits human potential. If we want a thriving society that fits inside the doughnut, we must ensure that everyone’s basic needs are met. We must trust that people can contribute positively when given fair chances. As we move beyond the myth that inequality is unavoidable, we unlock the ability to design economies that lift people up rather than leave them behind. In doing so, we strengthen social bonds, encourage cooperation, and help each other develop talents. Fairness and equality aren’t just nice to have extras—they’re central to a stable, flourishing world. By embracing policies and ideas that reduce inequality, we make the doughnut’s safe and just space a reality for all.
Chapter 9: Venturing Into Circular Solutions: Transforming Waste, Protecting Nature, and Redesigning Our Economic Cycles.
For too long, our economy has operated in a straight line: we take resources from the Earth, use them up, produce waste, and then throw it all away. This take-make-dispose model leads to empty mines, polluted air, and overflowing landfills. It doesn’t have to be this way. A circular economy tries to mimic nature’s cycles, where nothing is truly wasted. In a forest, fallen leaves decompose and feed the soil, which nourishes new life. In a circular economy, materials are reused, repaired, or recycled, so waste from one process becomes a resource for another. This approach reduces pressure on our planet’s resources and cuts pollution, helping us stay within the doughnut’s ecological boundaries.
Take something as simple as coffee grounds. After brewing coffee, we often toss the used grounds in the trash. But these grounds can grow mushrooms, provide animal feed, or enrich soil as fertilizer. By finding multiple uses for what we once saw as garbage, we keep valuable nutrients cycling through the system. Another example comes from Togo, where clever workshops turn old computer parts into 3D printers. These printers can then create tools and equipment needed locally, cutting down on imports, costs, and waste. Instead of throwing electronics away, they’re transformed into something new and useful—proving that even high-tech circular solutions are possible.
Adopting circular strategies also means rethinking product design. Instead of making gadgets that break easily and must be replaced, companies can create durable products that are easy to fix or upgrade. By designing items that last longer and remain valuable, we slow down the constant churn of production and disposal. This shift helps protect ecosystems, reduce carbon emissions, and lighten our ecological footprint. Cities can set up repair cafes where people fix broken items rather than tossing them. Schools can teach children about reuse and recycling, planting the seeds of environmental stewardship early on. As businesses see demand for greener products grow, they’ll innovate cleaner, smarter methods, accelerating the circular economy’s spread.
This isn’t about sacrificing modern comfort or returning to a primitive lifestyle. It’s about using creativity, technology, and cooperation to do more with less. By closing loops and respecting the Earth’s limits, we can continue enjoying a high standard of living without damaging our future. The circular economy illustrates that protecting nature doesn’t mean halting progress—it means directing progress into sustainable, regenerative paths. As we shape our economies in this way, we move closer to the doughnut’s safe center, where people thrive in harmony with the world around them. Embracing circular principles shows that we can change the rules of the game so that everyone, including future generations, can benefit from a cleaner, healthier planet.
Chapter 10: Facing the End of Infinite Growth: Finding New Ways to Thrive Within Earth’s Limits.
If we keep insisting on endless growth, we’ll run into serious trouble. The planet can’t handle infinite extraction and pollution. Many scientists warn that we’ve already crossed several environmental boundaries. Even countries with high incomes and stable economies are hitting a plateau where economic growth slows down. Meanwhile, continuing to rely on growth as our main measure of success creates big problems. The more we push for growth, the more greenhouse gases we release, worsening climate change. If we want a safe future, we must ask hard questions: What happens when growth isn’t possible, or isn’t desirable? Can we still have happy, fulfilling lives in a world that doesn’t constantly expand its GDP?
Some economists suggest we focus on green growth—shifting from fossil fuels to renewable energy, making products cleaner and more efficient, and reducing waste. But even green growth has limits. Wind turbines and solar panels require minerals and materials. Making them on a huge scale can still strain the Earth. Others propose degrowth, meaning we deliberately slow down or even reduce the size of certain industries that harm the environment. Degrowth doesn’t mean everyone becomes poorer. It means we stop measuring success by how much we consume and start valuing time, relationships, creativity, and health. We find meaning beyond more stuff. While radical, this idea pushes us to consider what truly matters in life.
If endless growth isn’t the goal, how will governments fund schools, hospitals, and social services? One solution is to close tax loopholes and ensure the wealthy pay their fair share. Trillions of dollars hidden in tax havens could support public goods if recovered. Another idea is demerge—a currency design where money loses value if it sits idle too long, encouraging people to spend or invest it productively. These approaches remind us that we don’t have to play by old rules. We can reinvent systems to support fairness, stability, and well-being without relying on ever-increasing GDP.
It’s scary to imagine a world not guided by growth, but it can also be freeing. Without the pressure to constantly expand, we might focus on genuine improvements to human lives: better healthcare, stronger communities, cleaner environments, and more time for family, art, and play. We can learn from cultures that value balance and harmony, rather than endless competition. By embracing these fresh perspectives, we can secure the doughnut’s safe space—meeting everyone’s needs while respecting the planet’s boundaries. This might be one of the greatest challenges of the 21st century, but it could also be the key to unlocking a future where we truly thrive.
Chapter 11: Stepping Bravely into the Doughnut: Building a Fair, Sustainable, and Joyful Future Together.
We’ve explored how the doughnut model challenges old ways of thinking and offers a fresh vision for economic life. Now, let’s imagine stepping fully into that doughnut’s center. Inside this space, everyone has enough food, clean water, safe shelter, good education, health care, and opportunities to grow. At the same time, we safeguard our planet’s climate, forests, oceans, and diverse species. Achieving this balance means rethinking our policies, values, and habits. It means supporting companies that respect workers and nature, investing in renewable energy, and designing products that last. It means making sure communities have a say in decisions that affect them, rather than letting distant corporations or outdated theories hold all the power.
In the doughnut’s sweet spot, economics is not just about numbers. It’s about fulfilling our potential as caring, creative, and responsible beings. We learn to see each other not as rivals, but as neighbors who share a common home—Earth. We use our imagination to craft new solutions: community farming projects to feed everyone locally, eco-friendly transportation systems that reduce pollution, and neighborhood repair stations that extend the life of our belongings. Our culture values cooperation over cutthroat competition, quality over quantity, and long-term thinking over short-term profits. As a result, our relationships with each other and with nature deepen and grow richer.
This journey won’t be easy. Changing the world’s economic system means pushing against powerful interests that benefit from the status quo. It takes courage to challenge old ideas, to speak up for fairness, and to demand cleaner, healthier ways of living. But we have powerful tools at our disposal: science, creativity, compassion, and the knowledge that other paths are possible. By working together—citizens, communities, businesses, governments, and global institutions—we can gradually shift policies, rewrite rules, and adopt indicators that measure what really counts. We can learn from successful experiments, share best practices, and inspire each other to keep striving toward that balanced, flourishing future.
So, where do we start? We can begin right where we are. We can support local farmers, join community groups, buy from responsible companies, write to our representatives, and educate ourselves about sustainable choices. Small actions add up, influencing bigger changes and showing leaders that people care about more than just profit. Over time, as these ideas spread, the doughnut vision can guide national policies and international agreements. Eventually, we can build a global economy that works in harmony with nature and serves the well-being of all people, not just a wealthy few. In doing so, we’ll leave a legacy for future generations—a world where humans and the Earth thrive together in balance, fairness, and peace.
All about the Book
Doughnut Economics by Kate Raworth redefines the economic landscape, advocating for sustainable growth within planetary boundaries. Discover how to create an economy that meets human needs without depleting the Earth’s resources or compromising our future.
Kate Raworth is an economist and thought leader known for her innovative and sustainable economic models, promoting the balance between growth and environmental stewardship in the age of climate change.
Economists, Environmental Scientists, Policy Makers, Business Leaders, Social Entrepreneurs
Sustainable Living, Gardening, Activism, Reading Economics, Traveling
Climate Change, Economic Inequality, Sustainable Resource Management, Social Justice
Economic growth is not an end in itself, but a means to deliver human well-being within the ecological limits of our planet.
Richard Branson, Al Gore, Greta Thunberg
Financial Times and McKinsey Business Book of the Year, Nominated for the CMI Management Book of the Year, Best Business Book on Sustainability by the Business Book Awards
1. Understand economics within planetary boundaries. #2. Learn about the Doughnut’s safe ecological space. #3. Recognize limits of infinite economic growth. #4. Explore regenerative economic systems’ principles. #5. Embrace distributive economic models for equity. #6. Rethink GDP as a prosperity measure. #7. Recognize the importance of social foundations. #8. Grasp how economies interact with ecosystems. #9. Explore circular economy concepts and practices. #10. Understand the role of systems thinking. #11. Identify institutional change drivers for sustainability. #12. Examine alternative economic metrics and indicators. #13. Consider long-term impacts on global commons. #14. Learn about sustainable development goals alignment. #15. Understand theory’s disconnect from real-world application. #16. Recognize economics influence on policy-making. #17. Consider ecological impacts in financial decisions. #18. Explore new economic narratives and paradigms. #19. Value nature and community over pure profits. #20. Engage in community-centered economic solutions.
Doughnut Economics, Kate Raworth, sustainable economics, green economy, economic theory, social justice, environmental sustainability, economics reform, economic models, circular economy, climate change solutions, interconnected economy
https://www.amazon.com/dp/1610395697
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