A few weeks ago, while reviewing doctoral proposals and research dissertations submitted by students from different universities, I was struck not by what was present in those documents but by what was absent. Many contained dozens of references, lengthy literature reviews and pages of technical terminology.
Yet very few demonstrated intellectual curiosity, originality of thought or the confidence to challenge established assumptions. Around the same time, I attended several academic meetings where discussions focused on accreditation requirements, publication counts and administrative procedures. Almost nobody spoke about ideas. As Pakistan’s federal and provincial governments finalised their budgets, that experience returned to mind because it reflects a deeper national malaise that receives little attention. The public debate once again focused on familiar concerns. Politicians argued over fiscal deficits, taxation, debt servicing and development allocations. Provincial governments complained about shrinking fiscal space and the gradual erosion of the spirit that underpinned the 18th Amendment and the NFC Award.
At the same time, defence expenditure has continued to expand as security concerns dominate national priorities. Yet amid all these discussions, one deficit remains almost entirely absent from the national conversation: Pakistan’s intellectual deficit. Financial deficits, however painful, can be managed. Countries borrow money, seek assistance from international lenders, attract investment or restructure debt. Intellectual deficits are different. When a nation suffers intellectual bankruptcy, there is no bailout package for depleted imagination, weakened scholarship or the erosion of critical thought. Once intellectual institutions decay, rebuilding them becomes a generational challenge. Pakistan today is confronting precisely such a crisis.
One reason is that public discourse has become increasingly dominated by narratives of security and national achievement. As development budgets shrink and social sectors struggle for resources, remarkably little debate takes place about the long-term consequences of repeatedly prioritising security over education, research, libraries and intellectual development. Modern states are strengthened by scientists, scholars, teachers, researchers, writers and innovators.
Antonio Gramsci distinguished between traditional intellectuals and ‘organic intellectuals’. The latter emerge from society itself and help articulate the aspirations, anxieties and ideas of ordinary people. Alongside them stand public intellectuals who engage directly with society and public affairs, translating specialised knowledge into public understanding and questioning prevailing assumptions. Pakistan increasingly lacks both. Public discourse has become narrow, cautious and defensive. Many intellectuals practise self-censorship long before any external censor intervenes. Television channels carefully calibrate their content. Newspapers avoid certain subjects. Social media users quickly learn where invisible boundaries lie. The result is not merely the suppression of individual voices.
It is the gradual weakening of society’s collective ability to think. American historian Richard Hofstadter warned about this phenomenon in ‘Anti-Intellectualism in American Life’. He described how societies sometimes develop suspicion towards intellectual inquiry, expertise and critical thinking. Intellectuals become viewed not as assets but as inconveniences. Complex analysis is replaced by slogans. Debate gives way to conformity. Pakistan appears to be drifting in a similar direction. The public sphere increasingly rewards certainty rather than inquiry. Television talk shows favour confrontation over reflection. Political discourse is dominated by accusations and counter-accusations. Nuanced positions attract little attention. Intellectual labour receives almost no recognition.
Having spent more than three decades in universities, development organisations, newsrooms and public policy circles, I have witnessed a gradual narrowing of intellectual space. In the 1990s, university campuses, literary gatherings, press clubs and even tea houses hosted vigorous debates on ideology, economics, foreign policy and literature. One could disagree sharply with prevailing views without immediately being labelled disloyal or partisan. Today, many academics privately admit that they avoid certain research topics altogether. Younger scholars often learn very early in their careers that caution is safer than curiosity.
German-American political philosopher Hannah Arendt argued that one of the greatest dangers facing modern societies is the inability or unwillingness to think critically about reality. When public debate is replaced by conformity and fear, societies become vulnerable to intellectual stagnation. Pakistan’s universities offer worrying evidence of such stagnation. A visitor examining the research output of many institutions would encounter an impressive number of publications but often disappointing scholarship. Academic journals are produced in large numbers because regulatory requirements demand them. Yet many suffer from weak peer review, limited readership, poor editorial standards and negligible international impact.
The problem is not simply a lack of resources. Many universities have invested heavily in buildings, conference halls and administrative structures. What remains underdeveloped is the culture of intellectual inquiry itself. Research frequently becomes a bureaucratic exercise rather than a genuine search for knowledge. Publication counts matter more than intellectual influence. Citation indexes matter more than original thinking. Faculty members learn to navigate compliance systems rather than pursue ambitious research agendas. As someone who regularly reviews manuscripts and serves on editorial boards, I often encounter papers that meet every procedural requirement yet contribute little to knowledge. The central question remains unanswered: what new insight does this research offer? Too often, the answer is very little.
The irony is that at the very moment when Pakistan’s intellectual infrastructure is weakening, the country is witnessing an increasingly triumphalist discourse about its international standing. Some of these achievements may indeed be real. Yet mature societies distinguish between success and self-congratulation. Foreign policy achievements cannot substitute for intellectual development at home. No amount of diplomatic visibility can compensate for declining universities, shrinking intellectual freedom or the deterioration of public debate.
Countries solve problems through ideas before they solve them through money. Effective education systems emerge from educational thinking. Industrial policies emerge from economic thinking. When intellectual capacity declines, policy quality eventually declines as well. This is why financially poor countries can sometimes outperform wealthier nations. Their intellectual capital compensates for limited financial capital. South Korea, Singapore and Finland invested heavily in knowledge creation long before they became prosperous. Their intellectual infrastructure preceded their economic success.
Pakistan appears to be moving in the opposite direction. Educational budgets remain low. Research funding is limited. Public libraries continue to disappear from national priorities. Book publishing remains weak. Translation projects are rare. Independent think tanks operate under constraints. Public lectures, debates and scholarly forums attract little institutional support. Meanwhile, young academics face an increasingly difficult environment. Many seek opportunities abroad. Those who remain often encounter bureaucratic obstacles, financial uncertainty and limited intellectual freedom.
French sociologist Pierre Bourdieu emphasised the importance of cultural and intellectual capital in shaping societies. Nations accumulate knowledge just as they accumulate wealth. Intellectual capital can generate innovation, social trust and institutional effectiveness. Its erosion can be as damaging as economic collapse. Reversing intellectual bankruptcy will require more than increased funding, although funding remains important. Academic freedom must be protected. Universities must become places where difficult questions can be asked without fear. Research evaluation systems should reward quality rather than quantity. Independent think tanks, literary forums and scholarly associations should be encouraged rather than viewed with suspicion. Public libraries, translation programmes and serious publishing deserve renewed attention.
Most importantly, public intellectuals and organic intellectuals must reclaim their role in society. Their responsibility is not merely to criticise governments or oppose authority.
The writer is dean of the faculty of liberal arts at a private university in Karachi. He tweets/posts @NaazirMahmood and can be reached at: [email protected]
