A Case Study in How to Turn Data into Ideology – Watts Up With That?

It’s fitting that a pair of academics from Oxford and Leeds have decided the best way to save humanity is to bake a giant metaphorical pastry. The Doughnut of Social and Planetary Boundaries, recently published in Nature (October 2025), offers us what its authors, Andrew Fanning and Kate Raworth, describe as a “renewed Doughnut framework” — 35 indicators tracking “social deprivation” and “ecological overshoot.” The paper’s premise is that the world is “out of balance” because we’ve failed to meet “the essential needs of all people within the means of the living planet”.

In other words: capitalism bad, GDP evil, and you should feel guilty for owning a refrigerator.

This is the third “iteration” of Raworth’s famous doughnut model, originally sold to a generation of university students as “a compass for humanity.” If that phrase sounds like the sort of thing printed on a Whole Foods tote bag, that’s because it is. The “Doughnut” has evolved into a moral framework disguised as economics — a colorful wheel that pretends to quantify both poverty and sin, where overshooting an arbitrary “planetary boundary” is the ecological equivalent of gluttony.

But now, armed with regression models, acronyms, and just enough math to intimidate the uninitiated, the authors assure us their pastry is “science.” Let’s take them at their word and see what’s really cooking.

The Premise: Saving the Planet by Redefining Progress

The study opens with a lament about the twentieth century’s “predominant conception of progress,” which, horror of horrors, focused on raising living standards through economic growth. In the authors’ words, we must replace that with a “twenty-first century conception of progress” — not growth, but “well-being,” “prosperity,” and “planetary health.”

You might recognize that last one — planetary health — as the new catchphrase used to justify policies that once needed to be debated democratically. Now it’s an article of faith: the “planet” has needs, and human flourishing must be rationed accordingly.

They claim global GDP “more than doubled” between 2000 and 2022, yet we have achieved only “modest” progress in reducing deprivation. The implication is that economic growth has failed. The problem is, the authors never stop to ask what would have happened without that doubling. How many billions would still lack food, clean water, or electricity if the market economies they dislike hadn’t grown?

Apparently, that’s not the right kind of question — because the answer might remind readers that capitalism has been history’s most effective poverty-reduction mechanism.

The Model: A Pastry of Pseudo-Precision

At the “conceptual core,” we are told, the Doughnut has two rings: the “social foundation,” below which lies “critical human deprivation,” and the “ecological ceiling,” beyond which lies “critical planetary degradation”.

Sounds profound — until you realize both rings are defined by arbitrary numbers. “Critical planetary degradation” depends on the still-controversial “planetary boundaries” theory, which divides Earth’s complex systems into nine “limits,” from carbon dioxide to nitrogen use. These boundaries are described, even by sympathetic scientists, as approximations with “considerable uncertainty”. But the authors admit they don’t “provide a critical assessment” of that framework — because that would undermine the pastry before it left the oven.

So, rather than dealing with the messy complexity of natural systems, Fanning and Raworth normalize everything into a tidy 0–100% scale. For instance, global CO₂ concentration is pegged at 416 parts per million — a “94% overshoot” beyond the planetary boundary of 350 ppm. Why 350? Because someone picked it. There’s no scientific law that says 351 ppm tips us into chaos while 349 ppm keeps us safe.

Likewise, they quantify “chemical pollution” as “production of hazardous chemicals, millions of tonnes per year” and declare the world 3,174% over the limit. Think about that. If your metric shows humanity exceeding its safety threshold by thirty-one times, maybe your model isn’t describing the world — it’s describing your priors.

The Method: Regression Lines and Righteousness

To lend this spiritual crusade a statistical veneer, the authors run linear regressions on global datasets and produce “annual percentage changes” in social and ecological indicators. Social “shortfall” — poverty, illiteracy, lack of electricity — has improved by 0–1 percentage points per year. Ecological “overshoot” — everything from nitrogen use to land conversion — has worsened by 1–5 percentage points per year.

From this they conclude that humanity is “far from securing” the “safe and just space” and that progress would need to “accelerate fivefold” socially while reversing ecological damage “two times faster” than history allows.

This is where science quietly exits and moral arithmetic enters. The authors calculate that to “eliminate social shortfall by 2030,” the world must improve five times faster than ever before, while to “eliminate ecological overshoot by 2050,” it must not only stop current trends but reverse them at twice the rate they worsened.

In other words: physics, biology, and economics must all behave according to the deadlines of UN PowerPoint slides.

And if they don’t? Well, the conclusion is baked in: “Economic policymaking that assigns priority to perpetual economic growth has been failing to bring humanity into the Doughnut’s safe and just space”.

The Inequality Narrative: Blame the Rich, Pity the Poor

The authors divide the world into three “country clusters”: the poorest 40%, the middle 40%, and the richest 20%. Predictably, they find that the “richest 20% contribute more than 40% of annual ecological overshoot,” while the “poorest 40% experience more than 60% of social shortfall.”

Translated: rich countries use more resources; poor countries have more poverty. Stop the presses.

The moral is clear — the rich must shrink so the poor can grow. But there’s a catch: the same data show that as income rises, social deprivation plummets. The poorest nations suffer the most “shortfall” precisely because they lack the energy, infrastructure, and industrialization that the rich are now told to feel guilty for having.

Fanning and Raworth call this a “disparity” that “reaffirms the case for overcoming the dependence of nations on perpetual GDP growth.” That’s like saying a starving man’s hunger reaffirms the need to eat less.

And yet, with straight faces, they argue that “no country is meeting the needs of all its residents with a level of resource use that could be sustainably extended to all people”. Which is another way of saying: prosperity itself is unsustainable.

This is the heart of the post-growth ideology — a moral economy where success becomes sin, and deprivation becomes virtue.

The Theology of Degrowth

The paper’s conclusion reads like a manifesto:

“Economic policymaking that assigns priority to perpetual economic growth has been failing… This reaffirms calls from post-growth scholars—ranging from degrowth to well-being economy—for a deep renewal of both economic theory and practice.”

Translation: abandon the economic system that lifted billions out of poverty, and replace it with one that makes everyone equally miserable — but sustainably so.

The authors even cite the “Doughnut Economics Action Lab,” which has been busy embedding its philosophy into “more than 50 city and district governments worldwide”. Think about that: an ideological model, built on subjective thresholds and moral symbolism, is already influencing public policy from Amsterdam to Melbourne.

The irony is rich. A framework that condemns “extractive production and overconsumption by the affluent” is itself a product of affluent Western academia, published in Nature, backed by taxpayer-funded institutions, and promoted through glossy “action labs” that depend entirely on the wealth of the capitalist economies they condemn.

The Data Gap They Don’t Want to Talk About

Buried deep in the methods section, the authors quietly admit that their analysis is “necessarily limited by the quality and availability of global time-series data”. Translation: some of the numbers are guesses. They also acknowledge that “several of the indicator thresholds… lack officially recognized standards,” such as their homicide-rate boundary or their “racial equality” measure, which lacks data altogether.

But these caveats don’t stop them from drawing sweeping conclusions about planetary destiny. Instead, they propose to “continue refining and measuring the Doughnut on an annual basis,” promising that regular updates will help “transform the dominant growth-based approach”.

This is where the academic project becomes a bureaucratic one. Every update means another justification for policy intervention — more regulation, more targets, more metrics that can never quite be met. Because if the Doughnut were ever achieved, what would the Doughnut economists do?

They need the crisis to continue.

The Disguised Politics of “Science”

Let’s be clear: this paper isn’t science. It’s advocacy wrapped in data visualization. Its underlying message — that markets and growth are inherently unsustainable — is not a testable hypothesis. It’s a worldview.

Every major variable in their model is politically loaded. “Social shortfall” is measured by indicators chosen to fit a narrative of global inequality — “youth unemployment,” “autocratic regimes,” “perceptions of corruption” — metrics that have as much to do with political preference as with human welfare. Meanwhile, “ecological overshoot” includes everything from CO₂ to “green-water disruption,” an ill-defined measure of soil moisture deviation that most soil scientists would struggle to operationalize.

But the authors treat them all as commensurable — as if corruption and carbon were both just “overshoots” on a single moral dashboard. That’s not science; it’s numerology with a social-justice spreadsheet.

Then there’s the not-so-subtle suggestion that inequality itself is an environmental problem. The wealthy, they say, are “disproportionately responsible” for overshoot. The solution? “Ecologically regenerative and socially distributive economic policies” — i.e., the global redistribution of wealth under an eco-moral banner.

Marx would recognize the rhetoric. He might even envy the data visualization.

The Fantasy of Central Planning 2.0

What’s most striking is the authors’ confidence that they — or someone like them — could steer global civilization toward “a regenerative and distributive economy.”

That’s a familiar dream: technocratic planners designing a “just space” where everyone’s needs are met and no boundary is crossed. It’s the dream that gave us the five-year plan, the sustainability target, and the carbon credit — bureaucratic tools that promise harmony and deliver scarcity.

The Doughnut’s authors insist they’re merely “making visible” the data, not prescribing policy. But then they immediately praise the governments “embedding the Doughnut framework in their local strategies”. That’s the tell. The point isn’t to study; it’s to control.

They even describe themselves as part of a “global community… putting the concepts of ‘Doughnut Economics’ into practice… engaging in strategic policy influence”. One can almost hear the hum of a Brussels committee drafting your next lifestyle regulation.

The Numbers Behind the Rhetoric

To get a sense of just how arbitrary this whole thing is, consider their Table 2 of “ecological indicators.” Here’s a sampling:

• Carbon dioxide: 416 ppm, labeled as “94% overshoot.”
• Nitrogen fertilizer use: 193 million tonnes, “212% overshoot.”
• Chemical production: 1,964 million tonnes, “3,174% overshoot.”
• Ozone: still within the boundary — the only good news, apparently.

Here’s the whole table

From: Doughnut of social and planetary boundaries monitors a world out of balance

1. Values in the ‘2000–2001’ and ‘2021–2022’ columns are reported as two-year averages except for stratospheric ozone concentration values, which are reported as five-year averages owing to high annual variability (2000–2004 and 2018–2022). Historical trends are estimated using ordinary least squares regression and two-sided hypothesis tests with statistical significance indicated at the 99% (*) and 99.9% (**) levels. Pathways to eliminate overshoot by 2050 are calculated as the percentage change between 2020–2021 levels of overshoot and zero. See Supplementary Discussion 2 for indicator details and Supplementary Table 2 for sources.

These percentages are entirely dependent on their chosen “safe” values, none of which are empirically determined. The “boundary” for CO₂ (350 ppm) comes from political advocacy, not climatology; the nitrogen limit (62 million tonnes) is derived from a single modeling exercise; and the “chemical” threshold is essentially invented — “at most 5% of 2000 production.”

So, when they say we’re “3,174% over the limit,” what they really mean is: we defined the limit as so low that any modern economy must be over it.

That’s like setting a speed limit of 1 mile per hour and declaring that civilization is in catastrophic “velocity overshoot.”

The Moral of the Story: Guilt as Governance

Fanning and Raworth’s framework is not about measurement; it’s about moral leverage. By defining the entire world as “beyond the safe and just space,” they justify perpetual intervention. Every human act — from farming to driving to building a house — becomes an act of planetary trespass.

They warn that “no country is meeting the needs of all its residents with a level of resource use that could be sustainably extended to all people.” That sounds ominous until you realize it’s just a tautology: if you define “sustainable” as “a level that everyone could have without increasing total resource use,” then of course no one qualifies. The model is built to fail, so that its authors can claim the moral authority of saving us from it.

This is the essence of what passes for environmental economics today — a secular priesthood using spreadsheets instead of scripture. Their gospel: we are fallen, the planet is fragile, and redemption lies in renunciation.

The Reality They Refuse to Admit

The irony is that the world has already achieved unprecedented improvements in almost every social indicator they track — thanks not to degrowth, but to the very economic expansion they condemn.

Between 2000 and 2022, global extreme poverty fell from over 30% to under 8%. Child mortality halved. Access to electricity jumped from 78% to 91%. Literacy, sanitation, internet access — all surged. These are not “modest” gains; they’re civilizational leaps. And they happened while global GDP doubled.

Fanning and Raworth see that correlation and declare it proof of failure. A sane observer would see it as proof of success.

Meanwhile, their ecological hysteria ignores humanity’s proven adaptability. Forest cover in much of the developed world is increasing; agricultural yields are up while fertilizer use per unit of output declines; and the air in rich nations is cleaner than it’s been in a century. None of this fits the apocalypse narrative, so it gets airbrushed out of the doughnut chart.

The Punchline

After nearly two decades of “Doughnut” development, the grand insight remains: we must stop growing, stop consuming, and start obeying the moral geometry of academics who draw circles in PowerPoint.

It’s an impressive feat of self-importance — to turn the miracle of modern civilization into a planetary emergency because it doesn’t fit your spreadsheet’s calorie count.

What this paper really measures isn’t ecological overshoot; it’s intellectual overreach. It’s the arrogance of technocrats who believe they can define “enough” for eight billion people from an office in Oxford.

The rest of us might prefer to live in the messy, adaptive, unpredictable world that built hospitals, computers, and sanitation systems — the world that works.

As for the doughnut? Let them eat it. We’ll keep the engines running.

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