Where the Thunder Dragon Breathes: Bhutan’s Bold Bet on Climate, Culture and Contentment

THIMPU, Bhutan, Jun 18, 2025: “I can’t get this anywhere else,” says Tshering Lhamo, a 29-year-old shopkeeper in Thimphu, as she gestures toward the clean Himalayan air outside her thangka shop. She once studied in Kuala Lumpur but came back to Bhutan for the peace—and the purity. Her friend, Kezan Jatsho, who has never left the country, adds, “I cherish the peace here,” even as many of their peers migrate abroad.

But the serenity they speak of is under threat.

Bhutan, a tiny Himalayan kingdom of 745,000 people—roughly the size of Switzerland—is lauded as the world’s first and only carbon-negative country. Forests cover over 72 percent of the land, and the constitution mandates that no less than 60 percent remain forested forever. Clean air, abundant water, and natural beauty define life here.

This environmental commitment is not new. Since 1972, Bhutan’s national philosophy of Gross National Happiness (GNH) has prioritized well-being over GDP, championing sustainability, cultural preservation, and equitable growth.

“Money can’t buy contentment,” says 33-year-old business graduate Kezan Jatsho, who dreams of opening a coffee shop one day. “I just need enough for food and clothes; too much money would be a burden, stealing my peace of mind.”

Yet Bhutan’s climate security is more precarious than it appears. The country’s location in the eastern Himalayas makes it especially vulnerable to the impacts of global warming. Glacial melt is accelerating. Flash floods and landslides have become more frequent. Hydropower infrastructure—one of Bhutan’s economic lifelines—is at risk.

“Bhutan remains disproportionately vulnerable to climate change, through no fault of its own,” says Karma Dupchu, director of the National Center for Hydrology and Meteorology. His agency warns that a temperature rise of up to 2.8°C by 2100 could trigger catastrophic glacial lake outburst floods (GLOFs). Bhutan has over 560 glacial lakes, and in the past 70 years, 18 GLOF events have already caused loss of life and damage.

The Cost of Preparedness

Preparing for the future requires money Bhutan does not have. “The costs of adaptation and mitigation are extremely high,” says Finance Minister Lyonpo Lekey Dorji. The country’s National Adaptation Plan is projected to cost nearly USD 14 billion.

Despite limited resources, Bhutan is not standing still. Nearly 50,000 trained volunteers—known as desuups, or “Guardians of Peace”—can be mobilized during natural disasters. Even cabinet ministers and the Prime Minister serve as desuups. “They volunteered in Nepal’s 2015 earthquake,” the finance minister notes proudly.

But for long-term resilience, more investment is needed—in early warning systems, in climate-resilient agriculture, and in off-grid energy for the 4,000 rural families still lacking electricity. “The farmers lack the resources and capacity to address the challenges of climate change,” says Dupchu.

Between Migration and Mindfulness

The climate crisis is only one part of the story. Bhutan is also confronting an “existential” demographic crisis, driven by a wave of outward migration. More than 12,000 people have left for Australia since the COVID-19 pandemic—many of them young, educated, and fluent in English.

“Today, 10 percent of the population has left,” says the finance minister. “Most are from the working-age group. In all, some 30,000 Bhutanese have migrated in the last two decades.”

To counter this brain drain, Bhutan’s Fifth King, Jigme Khesar Namgyel Wangchuck, has unveiled an ambitious solution: the Gelephu Mindfulness City (GMC), a futuristic economic zone grounded in Bhutanese values. “We realize that to achieve and to continue holding on to GNH, economic development is necessary,” acknowledged the finance minister.

“It’s a new Bhutan with different rules from the rest of the country and a new model of robust economic development,” says Rabsel Dorji, head of communications for the project. “It aims to attract and retain the working-age population by offering well-paid jobs, creating a place where development and wealth can co-exist alongside tradition and sacred values.”

The stakes are high. “If GMC succeeds,” Dorji says, “it can show the world that a city can be created without displacing nature or the people who already live there.”

And if it fails? Dorji just smiles: “Nothing the King does ever fails.”

Culture as a Climate Strategy

Even as Bhutan looks to modernize, its culture remains its most powerful form of resilience. In Thimphu, traffic lights have been rejected in favor of hand gestures from white-gloved police officers. Traditional dress—kira for women and gho for men—is not a costume but daily wear. Brightly colored prayer flags ripple in the mountain breeze. Sacred peaks are never climbed. “Nature is not something to be conquered, but something to be respected,” says Kinley Dorji, a journalist and editor of the Druk Journal. “We emphasize the preservation of our culture—architecture and the arts, spiritual values, and dress code—to be different and look different.”

When Bhutan transitioned to democracy in 2008 after a century of monarchy, it was by royal decree, not revolution. The literacy rate now exceeds 90 percent. Healthcare is free. And despite limited military or economic power, Bhutan’s spiritual and ecological identity remains a source of strength.

“In the absence of military might and economic strength… our unique identity is our strength,” says Kinley Dorji. “The average Bhutanese may not be widely traveled, but they know what matters. People were skeptical about democracy, as they thought it would bring corruption and violence.”

Hydropower and Hope

Nature does not only sustain Bhutan; it powers its economy. Hydroelectricity—mostly sold to India—generates 14 percent of GDP and more than a quarter of government revenue. In 2021, Bhutan produced nearly 11,000 GWh of power, exporting over 80 percent of it.

The country plans to harness an additional 20 GW of renewable energy by 2040, including 5 GW from solar. But even that will require external support. “We need huge investments for this to become a reality,” says the finance minister.

To make tourism more sustainable post-COVID, Bhutan reopened its borders with a revised Sustainable Development Fee—$100 per night for foreign tourists and just ₹1,200 (US$14) for Indian nationals.

Still, sacred sites remain off-limits. “The mountains are home of deities,” Kinley Dorji reminds. “They’re not meant to be conquered.”

A Global Story of Local Survival

In Bhutan, climate change is not a future threat—it’s a present reality. But it’s also a moral argument for global responsibility.

Unlike Greta Thunberg’s urgent call to action, Bhutanese youth aren’t protesting in the streets. Their quiet, inherited mindfulness—combined with progressive government policy—has embedded intergenerational climate justice into the national identity.

But without significant international investment, Bhutan’s future remains as fragile as its glacial lakes.

“I am full of desires for things,” says Tshering Lhamo, “but I also know if I go after them, it will destroy me.”

Bhutan stands at a crossroads between survival and sacrifice, tradition and transformation. Its model is not perfect—but it offers the world something rare: a vision of development that does not cost the Earth.

This is an IPS UN Bureau Report and has been reproduced with permission