What if the key to better business was less?

Hi, it’s Tom. I’m still busy beavering away on my new book, which I’ll reveal more about soon, but this week I am very excited to bring you a guest post written by Lucie Montel, Lead B Corp & Impact Consultant at Greenheart.

Last year I went to Louder Than Words, the big B Corp conference in Oxford, where Lucie ran some workshops on the topic of ‘Degrowth’. The one I attended was hands down my highlight of the event, helping me to understand degrowth better and feeding my mind with plenty of nutritious food for thought. This guest post pick’s up on that theme, challenging the assumption that more is the key to success.

I’ll say no more, and hand over to Lucie.

I started this year with a mantra. Last December, I was exhausted, feeling like I was juggling too many things, both professionally and personally, yet achieving none of them - constantly chasing my to-do list and frustrated with myself. So over the winter break, I set an intention for 2025: fewer things, fewer tabs open at once - on my laptop and in my mind - but doing things well, present and mindful. Less, but better.

I returned to work with this mantra in mind and soon found myself using it with colleagues too - for example, as an invitation to put fewer internal projects on our plate at once and achieve greater focus. That’s when the simple effectiveness of Less, but better hit me - so simple I wondered why it had not clicked before. Suddenly, these words felt powerful, perhaps even capable of articulating ideas I’d been mulling over for a while. What would Less, but better mean in business? And what if the key to better business was… less?

Over the last couple of years, I’ve been thinking a lot about how to bridge the most transformational and seemingly-radical ideas in ‘sustainability’ with the concrete, day-to-day realities of the companies I advise. More specifically, I’ve spent time exploring degrowth - and reflecting on its practical implications for business. A school of thought and social movement, degrowth challenges the dominant paradigm of continuous economic growth as a social objective, arguing that it is incompatible with Earth’s finite resources, and advocates instead for an equitable downscaling of production and consumption. While it draws on ecological economics, political ecology, and other movements, degrowth has gained moderate traction in recent years.

Personally I’ve come to love the double simplicity of the term: we need to reduce the material and energy throughput of the global economy to a level the planet can sustain, but we also need to deprogramme our fixation on GDP growth as a primary measure of progress. If you’re looking for a formal definition, I like to refer to Timothée Parrique’s work, which describes degrowth as “a downscaling of production and consumption to reduce ecological footprints, planned democratically in a way that is equitable while securing wellbeing”.

At a macroeconomic level, degrowth - as defined above - seems like common sense. Our economies are clearly overshooting ecological resource limits and transgressing planetary boundaries, producing and consuming too much while still failing to meet everyone’s basic needs. Wealth remains unequally distributed and although economic growth can raise average incomes, the benefits often disproportionately favour those who are already economically advantaged. From where I stand, the idea that our economies should aim for a safe operating space - what Kate Raworth calls the doughnut, where we meet human needs without breaching ecological limits - is hardly radical. The real challenge lies in how we deliver such a transformation in ways that are democratic, just, and that actively reduce global inequalities.

But what occupies me most isn’t the (however fascinating) puzzle of public policy and international cooperation this raises. Instead, I find myself obsessing over a different question: what does degrowth mean for business? If business, as we know it, is the engine of our growth-obsessed capitalist system, what happens if that system no longer revolves around economic growth? Can business survive, or even thrive, within it? How? And, most critically, how do we get business leaders to engage in this exploration?

Last year, I hosted sessions on degrowth at Louder Than Words, the B Corp festival and to my surprise, they drew a decent crowd - though likely an already receptive audience. What’s harder is engaging senior leaders of traditional businesses, many of whom, even when expressing concerns about the future, still resist fundamentally rethinking how business operates. Less is an uncomfortable notion in a world where we’re conditioned to chase more - and where company directors are still urged to maximise profit above all. Growth isn’t just an economic imperative; it’s a deeply ingrained belief that more is usually better. And so the mere mention of degrowth is seen as too radical, quickly dismissed, along with any legitimate questions it raises. I’ll admit that, for a while, I myself questioned whether degrowth was too radical a term, but struggled to find an appealing alternative. Even Less is more, the title of Jason Hickel’s otherwise brilliant book, never quite felt self-explanatory or persuasive enough on its own.

Enter my newfound mantra. Degrowth is not less of the same. It’s less, but different. Less, but better. A catchphrase so beautifully simple. And so, I indulged in a little thought experiment: what if we used Less, but better as a lens to rethink business? I started following this thread - and here’s where it led me.

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First, the idea of Less, but better echoes principles that will be very familiar for those working in sustainability and the circular economy: minimising resource use while keeping materials, products, and resources in use for as long as possible at their highest value. Instead of designing for obsolescence and feeding the cycle of linear consumption and disposal, embracing circular business models - such as reuse, repair, remanufacturing, and sharing - not only reduces waste but also unlocks economic opportunities including cost savings, operational efficiencies, and new market opportunities, all while also creating jobs. Whether driven by a genuine commitment to resource stewardship or simply consumer trends, major global brands across industries, from furniture and home appliances to luxury goods, are increasingly exploring these models. Circular models reconcile less with better by shifting focus from maximising outputs to maximising value.

But Less, but better applies not only to outputs; it prompts us to reconsider inputs as well. Could fewer ingredients make healthier products? Could simpler supply chains make businesses more resilient? And the same applies to the way we work. Productivity is less and less a function of hours spent at a desk, and in fact, growing evidence suggests that reducing the workweek - such as shifting to four days - may sustain or even improve productivity.

More broadly, and particularly in knowledge-based industries, doing fewer things - but doing them better - may be the key to meaningful, high-impact work. By focusing on essential tasks and eliminating low-value work and administrative overhead, individuals and organisations can cultivate what Cal Newport calls slow productivity, sustaining high-quality output without the strain of constant busyness. After all, does all work even serve a purpose nowadays? Or is there such a thing as bullshit jobs, as David Graeber calls them - roles that bring little value to society - that, if eliminated, could free up talent for better work or even allow us to engage in more creative or fulfilling activities?

Less, but better shifts the focus from quantity to quality, and invites us to reassess the purpose of products and services… but also of the companies behind them. Successful brands distinguish themselves by articulating a clear purpose - or, as Simon Sinek would say, a clear why - that guides not only their market positioning but also their product development and innovation strategies.

I believe corporate mission statements can be incredibly powerful - when they are not artificially fabricated marketing ploys, but carefully crafted statements grounded in a company’s unique capabilities, relationships, and position to address societal needs. A well-defined mission statement can anchor a company’s purpose for decades, even centuries, and enable a business to reinvent itself through radical innovation, market expansion, strategic investments, or even divestments, with the mission serving as its North Star. A standout example of this, in my view, is the Viessmann Group (disclaimer: a former employer). At the time best known as a family-owned German manufacturer of heating and cooling solutions, Viessmann articulated its new group-wide purpose: ‘We co-create living spaces for generations to come’. This affirmed the company’s commitment to sustainability and intergenerational responsibility, as well as a broader view of the solution space in which they operated. Since then this purpose has guided a deep, strategic transformation - including investments across digital infrastructure and renewable energy, and even the sale of one of its main divisions to reallocate capital, diversify its portfolio and invest in future-focused opportunities.

A strong purpose or mission statement allows one to zoom out from a company's specific products and services, to think more holistically about the needs they address, and possible solutions to meet them. The quote often attributed to Henry Ford, "If I had asked people what they wanted, they would have said faster horses”, referring to the early days of the automobile, highlights how we tend to focus on improving existing solutions rather than rethinking them entirely. While he may never have actually said these words, the essence of what is attributed to him still holds an important truth: behind what customers say, there are deeper motivations and needs. And as we are today firmly in the age of the automobile, instead of focusing on better cars - even electric ones - couldn’t we indeed consider less cars and better mobility solutions?

To me, businesses must now more than ever be able to justify their existence through a clear contribution to society. Don’t get me wrong - this isn’t an argument for businesses existing solely to address life’s most basic needs. After all, as Maslow’s Hierarchy suggests, and as the presence of arts, games and fashion across cultures and history demonstrates, human aspirations extend well beyond basic necessities. Likewise, the scale and complexity of modern society call for essential services that may not seem immediately vital but are fundamental to keeping everything else running smoothly. The point is not to reduce business to bare essentials, but rather to ensure it responds to true needs rather than artificially creating demand just to sell more stuff.

Though ultimately, yes, it may be desirable for fewer (but better!) businesses to exist in the future. The resistance to this idea often stems from the fear that it would mean fewer jobs - an alarming prospect in a society where waged employment is essential for most people to sustain themselves. But this, I believe, is looking at the right issue from the wrong angle. The real challenge isn’t the reduction in jobs but the fact that our current system makes survival so dependent on waged work. In a more equitable society, wealth redistribution would ensure that everyone has access to the basic resources they need to thrive. With a robust safety net - such as Universal Basic Income - work could become less about survival and more about purpose and fulfilment. Essential but unattractive jobs would need to offer better conditions, while more people would have the freedom to pursue careers driven by passion and skill. Beyond waged work, individuals could contribute in other meaningful ways, from caregiving to creative and community endeavours. Ultimately, a society with fewer but better jobs could be one where work is a choice and where time is spent more intentionally.

On a slightly different and perhaps less political thread, Less, but better also invites us to see constraints as a catalyst for innovation. The idea isn’t to do more with less by putting even more pressure on existing resources - an approach we know leads to detrimental outcomes, from soil nutrient depletion in agriculture to employee burnout in corporate environments. Rather, it’s about using constraints as a tool to think differently and drive innovation. Call it thinking inside the box, if you like.

Humans are highly adaptable, and creativity often flourishes in the face of adversity. In fact, we know that imposed, sudden constraints can spark rapid shifts, including in business. For example, the COVID-19 pandemic showed that businesses could rapidly adjust to a new and urgent environment - from automotive companies manufacturing medical equipment to luxury houses repurposing their cosmetic factories to produce hydroalcoholic gel. Large corporations, often slow to change, demonstrated a surprising ability to pivot when the situation demanded it. However, for smaller businesses, adaptation wasn’t always enough. While some survived by pivoting their operations, embracing digital tools, or accessing support schemes, many succumbed to the scale of the economic shock. This underscores two key realities: large businesses can move fast when they choose to, but also, global disruptions can be catastrophic to businesses, sometimes beyond their ability to adapt.

Anticipating future constraints - from supply chain disruptions to economic downturns or geopolitical instability - is a highly valuable, if not essential, risk mitigation exercise in itself. But beyond preparing for future challenges, businesses may benefit from imposing constraints on themselves before external factors do - limiting resource use or operational boundaries as a deliberate strategy to spark creative problem-solving, innovation, and resilience. According to Mark Barden in his book A Beautiful Constraint, we tend to respond to limitations in one of three ways: as victims who lower ambition, as neutralisers who find workarounds, or as transformers who harness constraints to drive innovation. Businesses who embrace the transformer mindset today may be the ones redefining entire industries tomorrow - or at least, be better equipped in an ever-evolving economic landscape.

Finally, I couldn’t conclude this thought experiment without acknowledging the work of German industrial designer Dieter Rams, who championed the idea of Less, but better in product design. While his philosophy focused on aesthetics and functionality, it also reflects a mindset. Everything around us - our laws, economic system, values, and culture - has been designed, whether intentionally or through evolution over time. And acknowledging that these constructs - physical and conceptual - are man-made also means recognising that we have the agency to redesign them, if we choose to.

Which brings us to business design. Our current capitalist paradigm, although dominant now, is a relatively recent construct in the span of human history. And we can work to imagine and shape a new paradigm in which business is not the engine of capitalism but a vehicle to serve people and the planet. Such initiatives are already underway - like the Better Business Act, which aims to ensure all UK companies align their interests with those of wider society and the environment in their founding articles. Or the Doughnut Design for Business tool, which builds knowledge and resources to help companies rethink core elements of their design - namely purpose, networks, governance, ownership, and finance - to operate within social and ecological boundaries. In the end, Less, but better is an invitation to redesign our social and economic systems altogether, for a future where business actively contributes to a thriving, just, and regenerative global society.

Our world deserves better - and in many ways, that means not more, but less. A deep, thoughtful decluttering - of our to-do lists, our targets, our stories about growth - so we can focus on what really matters. Less, but better isn’t just a personal mantra; it is an invitation to rethink business and our broader economic system. It’s certainly no silver bullet - it won’t resolve the complex contradictions of capitalism or magically deliver a roadmap for transformation. But to me, it’s a challenge - a provocation to senior leaders to lead differently. To reimagine success not by how much they produce or accumulate, but by how well they contribute - and how much better they leave the world behind them.

Three simple, non-threatening words. But I hope they carry just enough weight to start a discussion with those who resist more radical terms - or at least, plant a seed. So I’d love to hear from you: does this lens spark any new ideas? And will it help you bring others along in the conversation?

Share your thoughts here in the Substack comments or tag me over on LinkedIn.