The recent disclosure in the National Assembly that 187 cases have been registered under the amended Prevention of Electronic Crimes (Amendment) Act 2025 is being presented as evidence of the state’s resolve to combat fake news. But the number itself raises a more troubling question: is the government really fighting misinformation, or simply tightening its grip over an already shrinking digital space? This concern is hardly new. The Human Rights Commission of Pakistan (HRCP), in a report last year, did not mince any words in calling for the outright repeal of the amended Peca law. It highlighted serious flaws, warning that the legislation, in both its original and amended forms, lends itself far too easily to coercive application. Even its recommendation for dialogue, to distinguish reasonable regulation from outright repression, appears to have gone largely unheeded. A fundamental contradiction is at the centre of this issue: the government insists that Peca is designed to safeguard public order and national security from deliberate digital disruption. Yet, in practice, the law has increasingly been used as a blunt instrument – one that targets journalists, critics and dissenting voices rather than the architects of coordinated disinformation campaigns. The result is a chilling effect that extends far beyond those directly ensnared by the law.
This is not merely a question of rights, but one of reason. A digital ecosystem cannot thrive under constant surveillance and arbitrary enforcement. When content is shaped to fit a narrow, pre-approved narrative, public trust erodes. Audiences disengage. Investors look elsewhere. The promise of Pakistan’s digital economy – already hampered by intermittent restrictions, from the ban on X to the creeping imposition of firewalls and limits on VPN usage – begins to feel increasingly hollow. The government’s stated objective to curb fake news and disinformation is, in principle, a legitimate one. No society benefits from an unregulated information landscape where falsehoods spread unchecked, inciting panic or unrest. But legislation like Peca is ill-suited to this task. Much of the misinformation ecosystem operates beyond Pakistan’s borders, placing it outside the effective reach of domestic laws. Criminalising local voices does little to address this transnational challenge. More importantly, misinformation is countered through credibility. The state’s most effective tool is not the threat of imprisonment or fines, but the ability to present timely, transparent and verifiable information. Fact-checking, public engagement and narrative-building rooted in evidence offer a far more sustainable response than punitive crackdowns.
There is also a deeper, more political dimension to the current approach. The growing focus on regulating digital spaces suggests an inability or unwillingness to compete in the marketplace of ideas. When political narratives cannot be countered through argument or performance, the temptation to suppress them through legislation becomes stronger. But such an approach is ultimately self-defeating. Pakistan does not lack examples to draw from. Around the world, governments grappling with misinformation have experimented with independent regulatory bodies, transparent oversight mechanisms and partnerships with technology platforms. These approaches are far from perfect, but they recognise a key principle: that regulation must be balanced with accountability and the protection of fundamental freedoms. The continued reliance on draconian laws like Peca reflects a broader governance mindset, which prioritises restriction over reform. It is a mindset that risks isolating Pakistan not only from global digital flows but also from its own citizens. If the aim is truly to combat misinformation, then the strategy must change. Incorrect facts should be countered with credible data. Those who disseminate misleading information should be compelled to correct the record. And the state must invest in building public trust rather than eroding it.
