s Pakistan unveils its first climate-tagged federal budget, the question arises: will these high-level commitments actually improve the daily lives of the millions living below the poverty line?

While measures like climate budget tagging (CBT) and new carbon levies are presented as progressive steps to address climate challenges, they risk becoming hollow victories if they fail to ensure that the poorest Pakistanis can breathe cleaner air, drink safe water and survive the next flood. In a country where more than 40 per cent of people still lack basic services and climate disasters strike the most vulnerable the hardest, climate spending must deliver real, tangible results — not just satisfy global checklists.

Islamabad itself reveals how the gap between bold promises and ground realities remains wide. The Margalla Hills National Park, meant to be a sanctuary for biodiversity and a shield against urban expansion, faces steady encroachment and the mismanagement of guzara forests on its edges. This neglect is a stark reminder that while we debate big climate targets abroad, we allow local ecosystems to erode at home, turning manageable challenges into full-blown crises.

At this crucial moment, the Judiciary has emerged as a vital guardian of climate justice. Judicial activism, often criticised for overstepping, has proven its worth in upholding the constitutional right to a clean and healthy environment. By expanding the interpretation of fundamental rights under Articles 9 and 14, superior courts have reminded us that the right to life and dignity means access to clean air, safe water and a climate that does not threaten our survival. Public interest litigation and suo motu hearings have empowered citizens and civil society to challenge neglect — from unregulated construction to illegal logging.

Yet courts alone cannot bridge the gap between policy and action. The parliament must reclaim its role as the primary watchdog over climate finance and policy execution. Our parliamentary committees often lack timely access to finance bills, sufficient resources and the mandate to demand accountability. The recent budget process made this clear: while mitigation funding increased, committees failed to challenge severe cuts on funds for pollution control and agricultural research — both vital for resilience — and barely questioned the 18 per cent tax on solar panels that will dent clean energy ambitions.

These oversights are not mere technical details; they have real consequences for communities that rely on secure water supplies, fertile soils and predictable seasons. Pakistan cannot afford a climate policy that sounds good on paper but stalls in practice. What if our parliamentary committees could amend budgets, extend deliberation periods and consult stakeholders before funds were approved? What if they worked with local governments and civil society to ensure adaptation funding, such as for flood defences or nature-based solutions, reaches those who need it?

A big reason we keep repeating the same mistakes is that we govern from silos. The Judiciary protects rights, the Parliament signs budgets, the Executive drafts policies, and the civil society protests violations but they rarely move together. This leaves room for poor coordination, political shortcuts and bureaucratic inertia. Islamabad, the nation’s administrative nerve centre, has an opportunity to do things differently. Courts can set deadlines and enforce progress reporting to push ministries out of their comfort zones. The parliament can strengthen its committees and learn from global examples, for instance the UK’s Environmental Audit Committee, which holds government accountable for its climate promises.

We also need innovative financing. Meeting Pakistan’s estimated $348 billion climate investment needs by 2030 cannot be done through public funds alone. Municipal bonds, green trust funds and private capital for restoring ecosystems and building resilient infrastructure must complement government spending. At the community level, guzara forests must be protected from exploitation. Why not pilot community-led trusts that generate livelihoods while conserving biodiversity? If Margalla can be a model for balancing urban growth with conservation, it can also inspire provincial frameworks for protected areas.

The Judiciary, too, can broaden its role. Beyond verdicts, courts can help identify legal gaps, encourage reforms to boost technical capacity and clarify federal-provincial responsibilities that so often stall progress. Imagine courts requiring annual public hearings where ministries present climate progress, communities share concerns and experts suggest solutions. Such accountability could keep governments focused on long-term climate goals, not short-term political gains.

Ultimately, this is about reimagining democratic governance in the age of climate crisis. The people of Islamabad — and Pakistan — cannot afford to let climate resilience remain the domain of policy talk and occasional court rulings. We need a robust system of checks and balances that ensures every rupee spent brings us closer to a safer, sustainable future. Our Judiciary and Legislature must collaborate and share insights to build governance that matches the scale and urgency of the challenge.

Climate change will not pause for us to catch up. Our cities, forests, rivers and communities are counting on us to act. As citizens, we must insist that our courts keep protecting our rights, our parliamentarians step up as climate guardians and our policymakers embrace new financing, better governance and genuine accountability. Only then can we close the gap between words and action — and ensure that the next generation inherits a more resilient Pakistan.

The writer is a policy analyst and researcher with a master’s degree in public policy from King’s College, London.