THERE is a quiet alarm beneath Pakistan’s political theatre—unseen in headlines, unheard in speeches, but loud in the numbers.
This is a crisis the country’s rulers have long chosen to ignore. Over the past 25 years, we have added more than 110 million people—without a credible plan. Between 2017 and 2023, our population grew at an annual rate of 2.55%—higher than expected and clearly unsustainable. Any functional state would treat this as a national security threat. In Pakistan, the response is a mixture of indifference and politicization. If current trends continue, Pakistan’s population will surpass 400 million by 2050—an additional 160 million in just 25 years. This will be in a country already reeling under water shortage, food insecurity, unemployment and crumbling civic services. To absorb this growth, Pakistan would need to create over 2.5 million jobs every year. This cannot happen. But poverty-driven urban migration will indeed escalate. There is no national conversation about this. No public outcry. No media campaign. This silence is not benign—it is deadly.
The rapid population growth is a security threat in every sense. And the fallout is not theoretical—it threatens the economy, the environment and national stability. Pakistan’s youth bulge could be an advantage. But without education, healthcare or jobs, the demographic dividend has become a demographic burden. Labour productivity is stagnant. Economic inefficiencies are entrenched. Had population growth slowed by just 0.5% since the 1980s, GDP today could be 56% higher—with fewer people in poverty and better health outcomes. But instead, Pakistan treated its growing numbers as political capital rather than a development challenge.
Once framed as a “national asset,” its population is now a liability—economically, socially, politically. While countries like Bangladesh and Iran integrated family planning into national policy, Pakistan wavered. When bold action was needed, the political class chose silence. The 1990s brought advances like the Lady Health Worker Program, but momentum was lost. Today, the system is not simply under pressure—it is unravelling. Pakistan now holds South Asia’s highest population growth rate. Cities are bursting at the seams. The social contract is eroding. Unchecked growth threatens Pakistan’s very social fabric.
Politicians have largely abandoned the issue. Some even perceive population growth as a path to political power—more people mean more resources, more votes. They defer to religious sensitivities and electoral calculus. Other nations invested in contraception and girls’ education. We chose inaction. What we face today is not a coincidence. It is the result of decades of denial. This moment demands more than policy memos—it demands urgency, political courage and leadership. Less than 3% of GDP goes to education, even less to health. The result is predictable: a generation that is poorly educated, underfed and unemployable. The demographic dividend is gone. Do we value survival? Because it is about survival. The barriers to reform aren’t scientific—they’re cultural, religious, educational, political and gendered. Even basic public health campaigns struggle against misinformation and conservatism.
Economic planning remains fixated on fiscal targets, not social development. Female education—proven to reduce fertility and improve economies—remains underfunded. There is little urgency to treat it as a national priority. Family planning is trapped in cultural taboos, without political leadership, budget or coordination. Policy paralysis and fragmented institutional mandates deepen this crisis. Millions of women in our country face unwanted pregnancies with no support from the state. Reproductive rights remain abstract—disconnected from real access and care. Discrepancies in census data further undermine governance.
What’s needed is a full-spectrum family planning campaign and radical education reforms. These reforms are not optional; they are essential. Youth potential cannot be harnessed without structural reform. Family planning must become part of economic strategy—not donor-driven tokenism. Public campaigns must counter myths—with religious scholars involved. Free contraception must reach every village and slum. Female education and employment must be treated not as charity, but as macroeconomic imperatives. Health workers must be empowered. Incentives for smaller families should be real and widespread. Men and boys must be engaged in these conversations—from classrooms to community centres. Universal education must be more than a slogan. Today, 25 million children in our country are out of school. Our investment in public education must reflect this urgency. These reforms align with the Sustainable Development Goals, but they cannot succeed unless we confront the entrenched gender inequality that continues to hold us back.
Female education and employment are true engines of development—more effective than foreign loans or austerity programs. Educated women transform societies. But leadership is absent. Pakistan coordinated national campaigns for COVID-19 and polio—it can do the same for population, if political will exists. Pakistan stands at another crossroads and the cost of inaction is existential. Time, water, land—and options—are running out. One number captures it all: 240 million—and rising. This is not just a statistic. It is a warning. We are hurtling into a demographic emergency. The system moves forward, but it is not reforming. To speak of this is to question power itself. And in this country, nothing terrifies those in power more than real change.
—The writer is Assistant Professor, School of Governance and Society, University of Management and Technology (UMT), Lahore.
(tariq.rahim@umt.edu.pk)
