If a Tree Falls in a Forest, Will a Drone See It? | Doughnut Economy

Kate Raworth’s simple drawings reframe the long-held economic notion of endless growth.

What if the reason the planet is in such a mess boils down to nothing more than a series of misunderstandings? And how quickly would things turn around if these bugs could be fixed? Kate Raworth thinks false assumptions made by the men who began devising modern economic theory 250 years ago explain much of the inequality, environmental destruction and social injustice rampant in the world today. Correct these errors, she argues, and a new way of thinking about money could start to change the world.

An economist at the University of Oxford’s Environmental Change Institute, Raworth scored a surprise hit in 2017 when she published her manifesto for a new economics — a book based on two circles she had doodled then stuffed in a drawer and forgotten about five years earlier.

Drones are being used to fast-track reforestation, count new trees and counter illegal logging.

On an eight-acre plot of land just outside Bangalore in India, Omkar Subbaram Jois Narasipura and his team test out drones they hope will stem rapid deforestation that has caused the country to lose 54,000 square miles of forests over the past three decades. Traditionally, it would take thousands of people marching along the dirt to dig small holes and planting seeds by hand to reforest — or build a forest for the first time — anywhere in India, without reliable data to track the success of the efforts. Narasipura, a professor at the Indian Institute of Science, has a smarter idea.

He and his team have developed fixed-wing and rotary-style drones that can carry around 20 pounds of seeds of multiple varieties, “seed-bombing” an area while live-streaming the operation.

Czechs drink the most beer in the world — but come late summer, nothing beats burcák.

Beer may be the drink of choice for Czechs — who, after all, consume the most in the world — but come September there’s another local favorite. And not only is its purity and sale controlled by the government, but drinkers can never be sure just how potent their glass will be.

Still, you’ll see eager people sipping burcák (pronounced boor-chalk), an alcoholic grape juice made during the wine-making process — even before noon on a workday. It’s sold at vinárny(wine bars) and vinotéky (wine shops), as well as at the city’s farmers’ markets. And it’s also one of the highlights of vinobraní, annual wine festivals that showcase the best from the country’s wineries, including a few of Prague’s very own, as well as those from the Czech Republic’s sunny wine-producing region, South Moravia.

Burcák’s tangy, cider-like taste and cloudy, sedimentary appearance often lead people to think that it’s harmless juice. It’s not.