BY PAM DELANY

Around the world, a growing movement known as “Doughnut Economics” is reframing how societies think about prosperity in a finite world. In Arizona, water scarcity, extreme heat, wildfires, fragile soils, and rapid population growth remind us that land and resources are not limitless. The question is not whether limits exist, but how people adapt.

Across the region, ranchers restore grasslands to retain soil moisture. Indigenous seed keepers protect desert biodiversity that survives drought. Urban food organizers rebuild local supply chains, shortening the distance between farm and table. And local wealth advocates work to keep investment circulating locally rather than flowing elsewhere.

British economist Kate Raworth’s Doughnut Economics model redefines societal success as the ability to meet the needs of all people without overshooting the limits of the planet. Using a doughnut shape as a model, the inner ring represents the social foundation: The minimum standards every person deserves, including food, healthcare, education, housing, and political voice. Falling into the center hole means people lack those essentials. The outer ring represents planetary boundaries, including climate stability, healthy soils, and biodiversity. Crossing that outer ring means humanity is pushing Earth’s life-support systems beyond safe limits.

Between those two rings lies what Raworth calls the “safe and just space for humanity” — the balance between human well-being and ecological stability. At first glance, some might interpret Doughnut Economics as a rejection of growth. But in practice, it asks a deeper question about economic prosperity, in which growth is measured not solely by economic output — gross domestic production or GDP — but by how well society can thrive without destroying the planet or leaving populations behind.

In other words, success is not measured simply by the size of the pie, but by whether the pie nourishes everyone and is baked in a way that does not damage the kitchen.

To bring this concept closer to home, California Doughnut Economics Coalition co-leaders Rebecca Pan and Della Duncan, based in San Francisco, recently offered perspectives on how the model might resonate with families and communities in Arizona.

“Right now, most economists focus on one question: How do we grow the economy? Doughnut Economics asks a better one: How do we help people thrive within the limits of the Earth?”

“Living inside the Doughnut looks like ordinary, practical choices that are good for our families, our communities, and nature,” they explain. “Buying less stuff you don’t actually need, and choosing secondhand when you can. Eating a little less meat, not necessarily zero, just less. Making sure your home is well insulated so you’re not literally heating the sky.”

In a water-scarce region like Arizona, thriving within ecological limits feels particularly crucial. “In a place like Arizona, thriving within ecological limits mostly comes down to being smart about resources with many solutions that are surprisingly practical,” Pan and Duncan note.

They point to desert landscaping instead of grass lawns, low-flow fixtures, thoughtful irrigation, and rainwater collection as everyday steps that households can take to live well and within environmental limits.

Community design matters, too. Neighborhoods that allow people to walk or bike for their daily needs reduce both water use and transportation emissions.

Food choices also play a role. According to the Arizona Department of Water Resources, about 72% of water is used for irrigated agriculture. “That means what we eat can matter even more than how long we shower,” Pan and Duncan explain. Most importantly, Doughnut Economics encourages people to reconsider how they define success.

Pan and Duncan suggest that families start by asking a simple but powerful question: How do we currently measure a good life? “In Doughnut Economics, one useful guide is the idea of the ‘inner ring’ — making sure everyone has enough,” they share. That might include nourishing food, a safe home, access to healthcare and education, and enough financial resilience to handle unexpected challenges. But the concept goes beyond individual households.

Around the world, communities are increasingly experimenting with different ways to measure growth. Pan and Duncan explain that no place on Earth currently lives fully within the Doughnut. They share how Raworth often points out that, “according to the Doughnut, there is no developed country.” Still, some places are moving in promising directions.

One of the most widely cited examples is Amsterdam, which formally adopted the Doughnut Economics framework following the COVID-19 pandemic. City leaders now evaluate policy through the dual lens of meeting residents’ needs and respecting ecological limits. After the COVID pandemic, the city formally embraced the framework as a guide to public policy. City leaders began evaluating housing, development, and economic initiatives through two lenses: Whether residents’ needs are being met and whether ecological limits are respected.

Costa Rica offers another example of how ecological stewardship and human well-being can operate synergistically. The country produces nearly all its electricity from renewable resources and has restored large areas of forest over the past several decades. One policy even pays landowners to preserve forests rather than clear them.

As Pan and Duncan note, “[Costa Rica] consistently ranks among the happiest countries in the world despite having a fraction of the United States’ per-capita income.” The lesson is that prosperity is not always tied to higher consumption but can emerge from systems designed to sustain both people and nature.

Some countries have gone even further by redefining how success itself is measured. Bhutan introduced Gross National Happiness as a national framework that evaluates progress through environmental health, cultural preservation, community well-being, and psychological fulfillment, alongside economic activity. The idea challenges the long-standing assumption that gross domestic product alone defines prosperity.

For Arizona, that shift may feel surprisingly familiar. The desert has always demanded balance between human ambition and ecological limits. Indigenous water governance systems, desert-adapted architecture, and modern innovations like Tucson’s water-harvesting infrastructure all reflect a long tradition of living with the land rather than overpowering it.

While governments influence broader economic policies, families participate in microeconomics every day. Every purchase, investment, and consumption decision quietly shapes the marketplace.

Supporting businesses that buy from local suppliers, choosing products designed for reuse rather than disposal, purchasing food from regenerative farms, and investing in neighborhood initiatives are ways households can influence economic systems without waiting for large-scale policy change.

It may also involve redefining prosperity in quieter ways. A well-shaded street. Clean air after a monsoon storm. Children playing outdoors without extreme heat. A local economy where businesses, workers, and ecosystems support one another. In the end, Doughnut Economics is more of a compass and less of a rigid blueprint. It asks communities to design economies that honor both people and the planet.

In many ways, the desert has always taught Arizonans the lesson Doughnut Economics now puts into economic language: Prosperity must respect the limits of the land. The key takeaway is that families have the power every day to shape a thriving, sustainable community through thoughtful choices about spending, consumption, and local investment. As Kate Raworth writes, the real question is not how fast economies grow, but whether they help people “thrive in balance with the living world.”