What do discomfort and emotional resilience have to do with the future of our economy? More than you might think, according to Gaya Herrington. A sustainability expert, author, and advocate, Herrington wears many hats – from her role as Vice President of Sustainability Research at Schneider Electric to her work with Stop Straatintimidatie, a movement she helped reorganise to combat street harassment. In her popular TED Talk and book, 5 Insights for Avoiding Global Collapse, she argues that embracing discomfort is essential for addressing today’s intertwined economic and environmental crises.

Herrington’s pioneering research builds on The Limits to Growth, the 1972 MIT study warning of societal collapse, revealing that while we are on a precarious path, there is still hope. She champions the idea of a wellbeing economy – one that values human and ecological health over unrestrained economic growth. By offering her book for free, Herrington ensures her message reaches a wide audience, challenging conventional thinking and presenting a bold vision for a more sustainable and equitable future.

Your book, 5 Insights for Avoiding Global Collapse, came out last year and has sparked important conversations around sustainability. What was the turning point that made you feel compelled to write it? 

The book actually builds on an article I published in Yale’s Journal of Industrial Ecology, where I explored the limits to growth by comparing current data to a 1972 MIT world model. What I found was unsettling: we’re most closely following the “business as usual” scenario, which predicted societal collapse peaking around the present day.

That article unexpectedly went viral, and several publishers approached me about writing a book. To be honest, I initially felt it would be a lot of effort to essentially preach to the choir. So, I asked if the book could be made open access, freely available to everyone. One publisher agreed, offering an open access PDF alongside the option to purchase physical copies. I waived any payment because it was important to me that the information was freely accessible.

It sounds like you were surprised by the article’s popularity?

Yes, I was! Not many people read Yale’s Journal of Industrial Ecology, after all. I think the response came from a deep-seated sense many people have that the current system isn’t working as well as it could, but they’re not sure what alternatives exist. The book, while well-researched, is also quite personal. I wanted it to be more accessible than traditional academic papers so that people could engage with the facts and actually apply the insights in their lives.

That’s such a valuable approach. I rarely read academic papers, but after reading yours, it definitely piqued my interest in topics like regenerative economics.

I’m glad to hear that! That was the goal – to inspire curiosity. That’s also why the book includes so many references for those who want to dive deeper. I think part of the reason people feel stuck is that the kind of information they need to explore new ways of thinking is relatively scarce. Instead, we’re often bombarded with narratives that portray us as selfish maximisers, never satisfied consumers, or inherently violent beings. Under this framework, civilisation is seen as a fragile veneer over a more primal, brutal human nature.

At the same time, we’re fed another story – that we’re an endlessly innovative species, capable of overcoming any natural boundary. So, people are presented with this confusing mix of ideas, and I wanted to offer an alternative narrative with my book.

That shift in narrative is really powerful. When we’re told we’re selfish or have done something wrong, it can shut down curiosity. How has your book’s different approach been received?

I think it’s resonated with people. I’m frequently asked to speak on these topics, which suggests there’s a connection with the message. It’s also a reflection of the times – the idea that the current ‘business as usual’ path is unsustainable is becoming increasingly clear. You don’t really need my research to see that. Anyone who’s paying attention to the experts can see that our ecosystems are at a breaking point.

On top of that, we’ve long been told that sacrificing the environment leads to societal progress, but now even that is no longer the case. In wealthier nations like the UK or the US, happiness and wellbeing are stagnating or even declining, despite continuous GDP growth. Social fabric is eroding due to rising inequality and polarisation.

In a wellbeing economy, the goal of the economic system itself has to change. What does that look like?

If we want to change the economic system, we first have to redefine its ultimate goal. What my research shows is that sustainability is unattainable unless we shift from a system that prioritises growth above all else, to one that centres on meeting human needs within planetary boundaries. I call this the goal of human and ecological wellbeing. This forms the foundation of a wellbeing economy.

It’s not inherently anti-growth, but we must differentiate between what should grow and what shouldn’t. If something contributes to wellbeing, we allow it to grow. If it doesn’t, then why should we pursue it? This would create an economy where business activities, government policies, and citizen behaviour all revolve around human and ecological wellbeing. It would result in a very different kind of society.

Purpose plays a crucial role in this. We’re not selfish maximisers, constantly needing more material things. After basic needs are met – especially in wealthier countries – our true needs become social and spiritual. Surveys and polls make it clear: most workers are disengaged because they feel their jobs are just a means to earn money, rather than something meaningful.

In a wellbeing economy, even though people might have less “stuff”, their wellbeing would likely increase, because they’d have more of what they really need: connection, community, and purpose. Imagine going to work every day knowing that your efforts genuinely contribute to the wellbeing of others or to the environment. It’s a completely different way of living and working.

That’s a perfect segue to my next question. What do you think the world would look like if businesses prioritised wellbeing over economic growth?

I recently gave a TED talk at the Bloomberg Green Festival, and this exact question came up. We already have an idea of what that world might look like, because businesses often claim this is what they stand for. No business states that their vision is perpetual growth at all costs. They all put forth some idea of a better society because, on some level, that’s what we expect of them. But the reality doesn’t align with these statements.

This is why the “people, planet, profit” model often fails – when it comes to balancing profit with people and the planet, profit almost always wins. In a wellbeing economy, people and the planet would be prioritised above profit. That doesn’t mean businesses wouldn’t be profitable, but profit would no longer be the ultimate goal.

In fact, many companies already operate like this. They’re called not-for-profits, and they include organisations like credit unions. These businesses don’t accumulate wealth in private hands; they distribute it back to their clients, as their purpose is to provide the best financial services. Interestingly, during the 2008 financial crisis, not-for-profits fared better than many traditional companies. Personally, I only work with not-for-profit insurers. It’s logical – after all, a for-profit insurer is incentivised to deny claims and pay out as little as possible. Not-for-profit models prioritise service over profit, and they already exist in sectors like water, food, and clean energy. They’re profitable, but their profits serve a higher societal purpose.

It’s interesting that we already have examples of this working successfully, yet large global organisations continue to operate under the old model. How do you envision transitioning to this new system, especially when so many established companies seem resistant to change?

There are many ways to answer that. You touched on the idea of imagination earlier, which is critical. When you’re embedded in a system, it can feel like the only way, because systems exert control and influence over you. We see this through powerful institutions, international organisations, and their incentives. But, perhaps even more powerful, is the narrative that underpins the system.

Think about past societies, like monarchies. People genuinely believed their kings were ordained by God, and that the system would last forever. Then, suddenly, it didn’t. Today, monarchs are little more than a form of amusement for most. That’s the power of a system’s narrative, but it also shows that change is possible. As a wellbeing economist, I often find myself discussing quite spiritual concepts because the stories we tell ourselves is what it means to be human.

Systems change requires building a new narrative within the current system. Wherever you have influence, you can start weaving this new story. Systems change is a unique process – it’s both a large, macroeconomic endeavour and deeply personal, emotional work.

Let’s talk about that – how changing the narrative can empower individuals to act. I’ve heard you mention Bhutan as an example, where they measure growth through gross domestic happiness rather than GDP. For many people, especially in places like the UK or the US, that might seem like an outlandish idea. But it’s quite exciting, especially now, in a post-COVID world where businesses are more focused on purpose and sustainability.

Yes, Bhutan is a fantastic example of a country adopting a wellbeing-centred approach. In a world where ESG (Environmental, Social, and Governance) principles are becoming more prominent, many global businesses are striving for change, but they often struggle to balance financial returns with sustainability. Post-COVID, we’ve seen a greater focus on purpose, but the system itself isn’t quite ready to fully support these shifts.

I wonder if part of this challenge is generational. The people making decisions today, especially in the C-suite, have operated within a system that’s been good to them – they’ve financially benefited from it, and they understand it. Why would they want to change it when it’s worked so well for them?

That’s a very valid point. If the system has worked well for you, how bad can it really be? I think the generational shift is important, and older leaders have more responsibility than they’re acknowledging. We can’t afford to wait for them to retire. What frustrates me is when they recognise that the younger generation wants change and respond with, “They’ll do it.” That’s not good enough.

If you’re in a position of leadership, it’s your job to lead the shift now, not wait for the next generation. No one’s blaming them for their success, but with that privilege comes responsibility. If you’re unwilling to use your power to create change, then step aside. You can’t hold onto power and then sit back expecting the younger generation to fix things. It’s unfair.

Some of the arguments we hear are that leaders feel an obligation to investors and shareholders, including pension funds. They justify their actions by saying they’re providing returns, which benefits everyone, including younger generations. But how do we shift from focusing on just shareholder value to something broader, like employee wellbeing and social impact?

That’s exactly why I talk about shifting from a mindset of “never enough” to “enough for each.” Shareholder supremacy cannot continue as it has. Of course, we still need investment, but the model where shareholder value reigns supreme is unsustainable. Wealth inequality is at an extreme, and redistribution is inevitable, one way or another.

When I say we need to move away from growth-centered economies, people often hear “permanent recession” or “the end of progress,” which isn’t true. Most people would be better off in a wellbeing economy. It’s the billionaires who have the most to lose, and they benefit from perpetuating the myth that the absence of growth equals failure.

What do young leaders do when faced with fear or frustration?

It’s about accepting it. Fear and frustration are inevitable parts of the system we live in. They’re not signs of failure, but rather signs of being alert and alive. I’ve had many people come to me after discussions and say, “I think you’re right, but if I do what you’re suggesting, all that will happen is that I’ll lose my job.” It’s a legitimate fear – being placed outside the system is a real risk.

How do you navigate such a challenging reality, especially while working within a corporate world?

I hold an optimistic vision. The shift to a wellbeing economy, for instance, isn’t just about avoiding disaster. It’s a more appealing place to live. We would want this shift even if we weren’t facing ecosystem collapse because it’s a better quality of life for everyone. It’s not just for poorer countries – even in the West, people would experience more social cohesion and a greater sense of purpose.

“If you’re in a position of leadership, it’s your job to lead the shift now, not wait for the next generation.”

For me, the work I do aligns with that vision. Yes, it’s a challenge, but the alternative – business as usual – isn’t viable. People often say, “But that’s a lot of work!” And yes, transitioning to degrowth or a wellbeing economy is hard. But dealing with ecosystem breakdown would be far harder. So, we’re going to have a lot of work one way or another.

What personal strategies do you use to manage the challenges of this work?

Get comfortable with discomfort. Systems change is not linear, so you need to remind yourself that the impact may not be immediate. People start by working in isolation, but over time, connections form, and eventually, when a critical mass – around 25% – is reached, real change happens. It’s not about convincing everyone, just enough people to hit that tipping point.

Also, I allow myself to step back when needed. When I start losing joy in my work, I see it as a cue to take a break. In this kind of work, you’re never in complete control, but you’re also never alone. Sometimes you need to let the system carry you for a bit.