Iran Does Not Have to Close Hormuz to Hurt Pakistan. The Bill Has Already Arrived

Pakistan is not fighting the Iran war, yet disrupted Hormuz shipping is already raising energy costs and forcing fuel relief at home. Here is how the Gulf crisis reaches a Karachi petrol pump.

I can stand at a petrol station in Karachi and see nothing that resembles a war.

Motorcycles crowd around the pumps. Cars edge forward. An attendant watches the meter and asks for payment. Another customer checks his phone before filling his motorcycle.

Yet the price of that fuel is being shaped by events more than a thousand kilometres away.

A tanker attacked near the Strait of Hormuz does not have to be carrying Pakistani oil. Iran does not need to achieve a total shutdown of the waterway. Pakistan does not have to fire a shot.

For Pakistan, this is no longer a risk scenario.

The transmission has already begun.

Visible commercial traffic through Hormuz has collapsed from normal pre-war levels. Reuters reported only 17 commodity-vessel crossings during the weekend of September 19-20, compared with 37 the previous weekend. Before the conflict began on February 28, roughly 125 large commercial vessels normally crossed each day. Some vessels are apparently travelling without normal tracking, so visible traffic does not capture everything moving through the strait.

Then came a detail that should interest every Pakistani.

The Shandong Redwood, carrying LNG loaded at Qatar’s Ras Laffan terminal, passed through Hormuz on September 19.

Its destination was Pakistan.

Suddenly Hormuz is not an abstract line on a geopolitical map. It is part of Pakistan’s energy supply chain.

Hormuz Is Not Operating Normally

For years, discussion about Hormuz followed a familiar script. Iran threatens the strait. Oil markets become nervous. Analysts debate whether Tehran can close it. Eventually attention shifts elsewhere.

The present crisis is different.

The useful distinction is no longer simply between an open strait and a closed one. Normal commercial movement has been severely disrupted, while energy continues to move through extraordinary arrangements.

Before the conflict, roughly one-fifth of global petroleum liquids consumption moved through Hormuz. The waterway also handled around a quarter of internationally traded LNG, making disruption there a problem far beyond the Gulf, according to the IMF.

The scale of the change is extraordinary.

The U.S. Energy Information Administration estimates that total oil flows through Hormuz fell from 21.6 million barrels per day in the fourth quarter of 2025 to 4.9 million barrels per day during the second quarter of 2026. LNG flows dropped from 10.5 billion cubic feet per day to 0.8 billion.

Yet oil has not stopped moving completely. The industry has improvised.

Tankers perform ship-to-ship transfers outside the strait. Some vessels shuttle crude through dangerous waters and transfer their cargo near Oman. Other movements may occur without normal AIS tracking.

September oil exports through Hormuz recovered to around 6.5 million barrels per day through these unusual arrangements, according to Reuters.

It works.

It is also expensive.

Reuters reported benchmark freight rates above $30 per barrel for a very large crude carrier moving Gulf oil to China. Before the war, freight represented only a small fraction of the delivered cost.

That distinction matters for Pakistan.

We often watch Brent crude as though it were the petrol-pump price written in another currency. It isn’t.

Pakistan ultimately pays for delivered energy. Freight charges rise. Insurance becomes more expensive, while a regional risk premium can push the delivered price higher still.

A barrel does not become cheap merely because it survives the journey.

Pakistan Cannot Declare Economic Neutrality

Pakistan can try to remain outside a regional war.

Its import bill cannot.

The IMF put the exposure rather starkly in its April 2026 assessment. Pakistan is a net importer of oil and gas, leaving the economy particularly vulnerable to a Middle Eastern energy shock.

More strikingly, the IMF estimated that 81 percent of Pakistan’s fuel imports came from Gulf Cooperation Council suppliers. It also found Pakistan was being affected not only by higher international energy prices but by regional premiums above international benchmarks, particularly for refined petroleum products.

There is the mechanism.

Pakistan does not have to lose access to every Gulf cargo. The cargo merely has to become more expensive.

The State Bank recognised the seriousness of the situation in April. It changed foreign-exchange procedures to facilitate imports of crude oil, petroleum products and LNG amid the geopolitical disruption.

Pakistan’s dependence on imported energy is hardly new.

The State Bank’s annual report noted that even when the country’s energy import bill fell by 5.8 percent in FY2025, petroleum import volumes remained broadly unchanged in recent years. It warned that import dependence increases the external account’s sensitivity to international energy prices.

March 2026 trade data gives some idea of the scale.

Pakistan imported about Rs181 billion of crude petroleum during that month. Petroleum products accounted for roughly another Rs116 billion, according to the Pakistan Bureau of Statistics.

A larger energy bill consumes more foreign exchange. If the wider shock also puts pressure on the rupee, the same dollar-priced cargo becomes still more expensive domestically.

Eventually the shock travels inland.

Hormuz Does Not Need a Total Shutdown

I think this is the part Pakistan needs to understand better.

We tend to imagine disruption as an on-off switch.

Strait open: safe.

Strait closed: crisis.

Shipping does not work like that.

A shipowner decides whether a voyage justifies the risk. The insurer puts a price on that danger. Traders then incorporate additional costs and possible delays into their decisions.

The market starts charging for insecurity long before every ship becomes physically incapable of passing.

On September 21, only two commodity vessels were visible crossing Hormuz, according to preliminary tracking data reported by Reuters. Two other vessels had recently been struck in separate incidents. Responsibility for those attacks had not been established when Reuters reported them.

Energy still moved. But normality did not return.

That distinction matters. Pakistan pays for the extraordinary measures that keep cargoes moving too.

LNG May Be the More Uncomfortable Story

Oil receives most of the headlines because everyone understands petrol. Gas deserves equal attention.

Qatar has historically been central to Asian LNG supply, including Pakistan’s. The Hormuz crisis has disrupted those flows, while attacks on Qatar’s Ras Laffan complex have damaged production capacity.

Reuters reported in September that Asian spot LNG prices had risen from a pre-war range of around $10 per million British thermal units to nearly $30. High prices pushed Asian buyers towards alternatives and suppressed demand among customers unable to absorb the increase.

Pakistan LNG CEO Masood Nabi told Reuters that Pakistani demand could recover if additional supplies brought prices back to affordable levels.

Pakistan still needs LNG. At nearly $30 per million BTU, however, need and affordability become two very different things.

Pakistan has partly reduced its vulnerability through rapid solar adoption, especially among electricity consumers able to generate some of their own power. Gas still matters elsewhere in the economy.

Qatar’s problem may also survive the shooting.

QatarEnergy said on September 21 that damage at Ras Laffan had knocked out 17 percent of the country’s LNG capacity. Repairs to two damaged LNG trains could take as long as three years. The company said disruption at Hormuz was also interfering with equipment deliveries for its North Field expansion.

Pakistan therefore faces uncertainty over physical supply and price. A cargo getting through Hormuz solves little if Pakistan cannot afford to buy enough of it.

The IMF Has Already Run the Stress Test

We do not need to manufacture frightening numbers.

The IMF has already modelled the economic transmission.

Under its April baseline, the Middle East conflict was expected to reduce Pakistan’s GDP growth by about 0.2 percentage points in FY2026 and 0.6 points in FY2027 compared with the pre-conflict baseline.

Average inflation was estimated to rise by roughly half a percentage point in FY2026 and 1.5 points in FY2027. The current-account balance was projected to deteriorate by around 0.2 percent of GDP in FY2026 and 0.4 percent in FY2027.

Its adverse scenario was considerably worse.

The IMF estimated a cumulative GDP hit of roughly 1.5 percentage points by FY2027. Current-account deterioration in FY2027 could reach around 1.5 percent of GDP relative to the pre-conflict baseline.

These numbers describe stress scenarios rather than certain outcomes, but the economic mechanism behind them is already visible.

We can see part of it at Pakistan’s petrol pumps.

Pakistan Is Already Subsidising the Shock

We do not have to speculate about whether higher energy costs will eventually force Islamabad to intervene.

It already has.

On September 14, the Economic Coordination Committee approved the Prime Minister’s Fuel Relief Scheme, with around Rs75 billion allocated for a three-month programme. The government linked the intervention to higher petroleum prices and designed it as targeted relief rather than a universal petrol subsidy. See the Ministry of Finance releases.

Motorcycle, rickshaw and Qingqi users can receive Rs500 in petrol relief each week, giving them up to Rs2,000 over four weekly tokens.

Owners of eligible non-commercial cars with engines of up to 800cc can receive Rs1,000 every ten days, based on Rs100-per-litre relief on 10 litres. The monthly ceiling is effectively 30 litres, or as much as Rs3,000 in relief.

One vehicle is allowed for each eligible owner or user.

The government subsequently changed some of the motorcycle rules after complaints. A rider no longer has to purchase five litres in a single transaction to receive the benefit. The eligible age of two- and three-wheelers was extended from 15 years to 20 years.

Another change is socially important. Motorcycle and rickshaw users of rented vehicles can now qualify without satisfying the original ownership requirement, Radio Pakistan reported.

By September 25, IT Minister Shaza Fatima Khawaja said more than 5.8 million people had registered. Around 6.1 million tokens had been generated, while approximately 4.7 million people had obtained fuel through the programme.

I find those numbers more revealing than another speech about international oil markets.

They show the transmission mechanism operating almost in real time.

A military confrontation disrupts Gulf energy flows. Pakistan pays more to keep energy moving towards its economy.

Then Islamabad pays again to shield selected consumers from part of the increase.

The missile may fall hundreds of kilometres from Karachi.

The subsidy is paid in rupees.

A Rs500 Token Does Not Make the Cost Disappear

A motorcycle in Karachi is often not discretionary transport. It takes a worker to his office. A delivery rider depends on it for his income. A father may simply need it to reach the market.

For someone using a motorcycle every day, Rs2,000 a month therefore matters. A family running an old 660cc or 800cc car can similarly gain some protection from expensive petrol.

But Pakistan still has to finance that protection.

The targeted fuel scheme was allocated around Rs75 billion for three months.

There is another government intervention that must be kept separate.

The ECC also approved a Rs100 billion technical supplementary grant for the Prime Minister’s Austerity Fund 2026. The government said the money would meet petroleum price-differential requirements and cushion consumers against price volatility associated with Gulf developments.

It is being financed through the rationalisation and surrender of Public Sector Development Programme funds.

The distinction matters. The Rs75 billion programme provides targeted fuel relief. The Rs100 billion allocation addresses broader petroleum-price volatility.

Neither makes the underlying imported energy cost disappear.

Part of the burden simply moves from the petrol pump towards the federal budget. When development funds help finance the response, another part can move into spending that no longer happens elsewhere.

Why Motorcycles Tell Us More Than SUVs

The government could have reduced the petrol price for everyone. It didn’t.

Instead, it targeted two- and three-wheelers and restricted eligible cars to engines no larger than 800cc. Someone filling a large SUV does not receive the same protection.

There is an economic logic behind the distinction.

A motorcycle in Karachi often represents basic mobility rather than discretionary consumption. Subsidising the fuel used by a worker commuting across the city is economically different from subsidising the petrol bill of a large SUV.

That does not mean every motorcycle owner is poor. Nor does targeting guarantee perfect delivery.

A vehicle record may not match an applicant’s details. Even a problem with a registered mobile number can interfere with access. Poor connectivity has caused difficulties in some areas as well.

The government has already had to adjust parts of the programme.

Still, its basic structure tells us something.

Pakistan is trying to protect smaller consumers without completely insulating the domestic economy from international energy prices.

The motorcycle subsidy is therefore not a separate welfare story sitting somewhere below the geopolitical headlines. It is one consequence of those headlines.

Islamabad Is Also Trying to Burn Less Fuel

Subsidies are only one side of the government’s response.

On September 17, Pakistan announced austerity measures intended to conserve fuel as the Gulf conflict intensified. The measures included restrictions on fuel use by official vehicles and limits on government vehicle purchases, Reuters reported.

The combination is revealing.

Islamabad is trying to protect selected household consumers while reducing fuel use inside government.

That is not the behaviour of a country facing a theoretical problem. It is the behaviour of a government responding to an energy shock that has already arrived.

Whether these measures save enough fuel or public money is a separate question. Their existence tells us something more immediate about the severity of Pakistan’s exposure.

Hormuz is already influencing domestic policy.

From a Tanker in Hormuz to a Motorcycle in Karachi

Consider the distance between the two ends of this story.

A tanker approaches Hormuz. Its owner considers the danger. The insurer recalculates risk.

Pakistan then needs dollars to pay for energy whose journey has become more difficult and expensive.

Eventually, one morning, a man rides his motorcycle into a Karachi petrol station. He uses a government fuel-relief token because petrol has become painfully expensive.

At first glance, the tanker and the motorcycle have nothing to do with each other.

Economically, they are connected.

I began at a Karachi petrol station because that is where this distant war becomes easier to see.

Pakistan is not fighting Iran. The motorcyclist filling his tank did not create the crisis in Hormuz either. Yet the cost has travelled from a Gulf shipping lane into Pakistan’s budget and, eventually, towards his pocket.

Islamabad can soften that journey with a Rs500 token.

It cannot make the underlying cost disappear.

A complete shutdown of Hormuz would be far worse.

Pakistan does not need one to suffer. The war has already entered our economy without asking permission.

Did Mohammed bin Salman Clash With His Brother? What We Can Actually Verify

Saudi opposition sources claim Mohammed bin Salman and Defence Minister Khalid bin Salman are locked in a serious dispute over Saudi Arabia’s failures against the Houthis. The alleged confrontation remains unverified, but the military crisis beneath the rumour is real.

Late this week, an extraordinary story began circulating through Saudi opposition channels. Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman, the story claimed, had turned furiously against his younger brother, Defence Minister Khalid bin Salman.

The allegation went much further than an ordinary disagreement. According to versions circulating online, Mohammed bin Salman accused Khalid of failing to build a military capable of defeating Yemen’s Houthis despite enormous defence expenditure. Some versions allege accusations of corruption and embezzlement. Khalid supposedly answered that the real mistake belonged to Mohammed himself because he had taken Saudi Arabia into the Yemen war.

It is explosive material. There is just one problem. I cannot verify that confrontation happened.

What I can verify is something arguably more important. Saudi Arabia is facing a serious military challenge from the Houthis, missiles and drones are again threatening the kingdom, questions are being asked about Saudi military effectiveness, and Washington has shown limits to the support Riyadh can expect.

What the Saudi opposition story actually claims

One version of the allegation, citing reports from the Saudi opposition, says the relationship between Mohammed and Khalid bin Salman has deteriorated into a serious dispute. It claims Mohammed blamed his brother for failing to construct an effective military force against Ansar Allah, the formal name used by the Houthi movement.

The same account alleges that Mohammed accused Khalid of administrative corruption and misappropriation of money. Khalid supposedly replied that weapons and money could not repair strategic mistakes made when Mohammed led Saudi policy toward Yemen.

Those are enormous accusations. Yet the published versions provide no documents establishing the exchange, no recording, and no independently attributable palace source who witnessed it.

An opposition source can sometimes reveal information that official media will never publish. Closed political systems create precisely this verification problem. Official silence cannot prove an allegation false. But opposition status does not make an allegation true either. For now, the alleged confrontation should be described as unverified.

Something real is happening underneath the rumour

The security situation is much easier to establish. On 26 September, the Saudi-led coalition said it intercepted two ballistic missiles heading toward Khamis Mushait and two drones heading toward the Riyadh region. Reuters reported the coalition’s announcement.

Recent reporting has also documented Houthi advances and weaknesses among Saudi-backed forces in Yemen. Intelligence failures, divisions among local allies and underestimation of Houthi preparations have all featured in accounts of the setback. The opposition rumour therefore lands in a political environment already filled with questions about deterrence and military performance.

That does not prove a royal fight. It explains why the allegation has acquired such force.

Saudi Arabia has spent heavily on defence

Saudi military expenditure makes the controversy sharper. The Stockholm International Peace Research Institute estimates that Saudi Arabia spent $83.2 billion on its military in 2025, making the kingdom one of the world’s largest military spenders.

So asking why a state with expensive aircraft, missiles and sophisticated Western weapons still struggles to deter the Houthis is legitimate. But expenditure cannot answer that question by itself.

Saudi difficulties in Yemen involve intelligence and command arrangements. Terrain matters enormously. So does the effectiveness of local allies and the Houthis’ accumulated combat experience. The important distinction is between possessing advanced weapons and converting them into political control on a difficult battlefield.

Saudi Arabia can destroy targets from the air. Holding territory and producing a durable political settlement in Yemen require something different. That problem has followed Riyadh for more than a decade.

There is an awkward historical problem with blaming Khalid

The circulating allegation contains a weakness that should immediately interest anyone familiar with the history of the Yemen war. Khalid bin Salman did not start it as Saudi defence minister.

Mohammed bin Salman was defence minister when Saudi Arabia launched its military intervention in Yemen in March 2015. Riyadh intervened after the Houthis had driven the internationally recognised government from Sanaa and expanded their territorial control.

Khalid became defence minister only in September 2022. The Saudi Press Agency’s record of the royal appointment states that King Salman appointed Mohammed bin Salman prime minister and Khalid bin Salman defence minister on 27 September 2022.

That chronology does not tell us whether the brothers are arguing today. It does tell us something important about responsibility. Saudi Arabia’s Yemen strategy cannot simply be attributed to Khalid’s management of the Defence Ministry. Mohammed was central to the original intervention and has remained the kingdom’s dominant political decision-maker.

A genuine internal Saudi reckoning over Yemen would therefore involve more than procurement or the performance of one minister. It would eventually reach the strategic decisions made in 2015.

Yet Khalid does not look like a minister who has been pushed aside

There is another problem with the most dramatic versions of the rumour. Khalid bin Salman remains publicly active in highly sensitive defence business.

On Saudi National Day, he publicly praised the leadership of King Salman and Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman. Whatever may happen privately inside the royal family, his public language showed no political separation from his brother.

More important, Khalid has continued meeting senior foreign military officials as the Houthi crisis has intensified. These are not merely ceremonial duties. They place him at the centre of Saudi Arabia’s response to a live security problem.

None of this proves that relations between the brothers are harmonious. Governments routinely conceal internal disputes. Brothers can disagree bitterly while continuing to work together. But observable evidence matters. If Khalid had lost Mohammed’s confidence completely, his continued role in sensitive defence diplomacy would require explanation. At present, the public evidence points to continuity.

The deeper crisis may concern America

There is another figure hovering over this story: Donald Trump. Saudi Arabia spent decades building its security architecture around its relationship with the United States. The current Houthi crisis is testing what that relationship actually guarantees.

Recent reporting has described Saudi frustration with Washington’s reluctance to become more deeply involved militarily against the Houthis. The Financial Times has examined that tension.

This changes the strategic calculation inside Riyadh. The kingdom must calculate how much American military support it can expect when a regional crisis threatens Saudi interests but Washington does not consider direct intervention worthwhile.

I suspect this question matters far more than palace gossip.

Why rumours flourish inside closed political systems

Saudi Arabia presents journalists with an unusual verification problem. Major decisions emerge from a narrow ruling structure. Independent reporting on internal royal deliberations is difficult, while officials rarely discuss disagreements publicly.

The information vacuum produces two competing temptations. One is to believe Saudi official media too easily. The other is to believe Saudi opposition media simply because official Saudi media cannot be trusted to disclose internal conflict. Neither method works.

A serious reader should ask who originated the allegation and what direct evidence that source possesses. Has another source independently confirmed it? Do subsequent appointments, dismissals or changes in responsibility support the story?

In this case, those tests produce an uncomfortable but useful answer. I can verify the Saudi security crisis. I can verify the enormous defence expenditure. I can verify renewed Houthi attacks. I can also verify that Khalid remains publicly active as defence minister. I cannot verify the alleged private confrontation between the brothers.

That is not the same as proving that it never happened.

The story worth watching

I would therefore watch Khalid bin Salman rather than the rumour. Does he continue meeting foreign military leaders? Does responsibility for Yemen move elsewhere? Do senior commanders disappear from public view? Does Saudi Arabia restructure its defence establishment?

Concrete changes of that kind would provide evidence of political consequences.

For now, Saudi Arabia’s larger predicament is serious enough without embellishment. A movement Riyadh went to war against in 2015 remains capable of launching missiles and drones toward Saudi targets more than eleven years later. Saudi Arabia spent $83.2 billion on its military last year, yet the Houthi challenge continues to expose questions about intelligence, command and deterrence.

Washington, meanwhile, has shown limits to what it will do for Riyadh.

Perhaps Mohammed bin Salman and Khalid bin Salman are arguing about all of this behind palace walls. It would hardly be surprising if Saudi leaders were conducting a severe internal review after military setbacks.

But surprise is not evidence.

The more revealing question is already in front of us. After more than a decade of war, enormous military expenditure and deep dependence on foreign security partnerships, why is Saudi Arabia once again struggling to deter the Houthis?

Whatever is being said inside the royal palace, Riyadh now has to answer that question outside it.

Pakistanis Think the Migration Door Is Closing. The Truth Is More Uncomfortable

Pakistani professionals can hold recognised degrees and approved skills assessments yet wait years for migration opportunities. Australia, Canada and Germany still need foreign talent, but official data reveal a shift toward specific skills, experience and labour-market fit.

A few days ago, I was listening to the familiar Pakistani discussion about migration. Britain is becoming tougher. Canada is cutting immigration. Australia has become difficult. Germany no longer offers the easy professional future many young people imagined.

Then I thought about my own son.

He is an engineer. He went through the professional assessment process for Australia and received a positive assessment from Engineers Australia. Yet years have passed without the immigration outcome we once imagined would follow from being a qualified engineer.

That experience forced me to ask a different question. What if the migration door has not simply closed? What if countries such as Australia and Canada are still looking for immigrants, but have become much more precise about which immigrants they want, where they need them and how quickly those migrants can contribute?

A Qualified Engineer Is Not Necessarily an Invited Engineer

Australia provides perhaps the clearest example. Engineers Australia is authorised to assess qualifications, skills and experience for engineering migration occupations. A successful assessment is important, but Engineers Australia does not award migration points. Visa decisions belong to the Department of Home Affairs.

Australia’s SkillSelect system makes the distinction even clearer. A person interested in Skilled Independent subclass 189, Skilled Nominated subclass 190 or Skilled Work Regional subclass 491 first submits an Expression of Interest. The formal threshold is 65 points, but Home Affairs explicitly warns that reaching the threshold does not guarantee an invitation.

Competition matters. In Australia’s published invitation-round data, some occupations required substantially more than 65 points. In the latest published table available when I checked, Chemical Engineer required 85 points. Civil Engineering Draftsperson and Construction Project Manager were also at 85. The exact score varies by occupation and round.

A Pakistani family can therefore truthfully say, “Our son is a professionally assessed engineer.” Australia can simultaneously say, “We have not invited him.” Both statements can be correct.

Australia Still Wants Skilled Migrants

This is where the popular narrative starts to break down. Australia has not abandoned skilled migration.

For 2026–27, the permanent migration program is set at 185,000 places. Skilled migration accounts for 132,240. The Skilled Independent category rises to 21,090 places, while employer-sponsored migration receives 58,040 places.

Those numbers do not describe a country that has stopped wanting skilled migrants. They describe a country making choices about how migration connects to its labour market. The government also says the 2026–27 program will prioritise migrants already living in Australia.

Qualification remains important. Connection to actual demand may matter even more.

A Shortage Does Not Mean Every Applicant Is Needed

I often hear Pakistanis say, “My occupation is in shortage in Australia, so why am I not getting immigration?” The question sounds reasonable. It rests on a faulty assumption.

A shortage does not mean every qualified overseas applicant is required. The 2025 Occupation Shortage List found that 29 percent of assessed occupations were in shortage, down from 33 percent in 2024 and 36 percent in 2023. Shortages persisted particularly in health and construction.

Jobs and Skills Australia also reported an important problem in some professional occupations, including engineering: employers could encounter gaps in employability skills and experience even among qualified candidates.

Pause over that finding. The problem is not always an absence of degrees. Employers may find qualified people without enough of the particular experience or workplace capability they require.

The Plumber and the MBA

This brings me to an uncomfortable Pakistani habit. A university degree carries enormous social prestige. Parents proudly say their son is an engineer, doctor or MBA. Skilled manual work occupies a different social position. A plumber does not usually receive the same admiration at a Karachi family gathering.

International labour markets have no obligation to respect our hierarchy.

Canada demonstrates the point. Its 2026 Express Entry category-based selection includes healthcare and social services, STEM occupations and trades among targeted categories. The trade category includes electricians, plumbers, carpenters and welders. It also covers heavy-duty equipment mechanics and heating, refrigeration and air-conditioning mechanics.

Engineers have not disappeared. Canada’s STEM category includes civil, mechanical, electrical and electronics engineers among other occupations.

The lesson is not “forget university and become a plumber.” That would replace one simplistic migration formula with another. The more useful conclusion is this: a profession’s social prestige in Pakistan tells us very little about its migration value overseas.

Germany Shows What AI Is Doing to the Equation

Germany adds another layer. I recently saw a comment from a Pakistani woman whose husband was completing a master’s degree in Germany. He had IT experience from his student years, she said, yet he was struggling to find even a junior-level job. One comment proves nothing about an entire labour market.

German government data, however, show why the experience is plausible. Germany’s Federal Employment Agency reported in July 2026 that registered ICT vacancies had fallen 22 percent in 2025. ICT unemployment rose from 3.7 percent to 4.5 percent.

Yet Germany still employed about 1.15 million ICT professionals subject to social-security contributions, and foreign ICT specialists numbered about 171,000 in 2025. Germany can therefore need foreign technology workers while a particular international graduate struggles to find a junior job.

AI helps explain part of the tension. The Federal Employment Agency says digitalisation, automation and AI are raising skill requirements in ICT. More than 40 percent of the 39,000 new ICT jobs identified in its analysis were for experts.

Germany has not stopped needing technology workers. It increasingly needs workers who can perform at a higher level.

Migration Is Becoming a Matching System

I think we have been asking the wrong question in Pakistan. We ask: Which country is easy for immigration? That encourages people to chase countries.

A more useful question is: Where does my particular combination of occupation, experience and language ability match demand strongly enough for an employer or government to choose me?

Australia’s latest policies make that logic visible. From 19 September 2026, its skilled-visa processing priorities give priority to applications connected with sectors including construction, healthcare and teaching. Agriculture and resources are also included.

Canada selects occupational categories around economic goals and labour-market information. Germany still wants foreign ICT expertise while technological change raises what employers expect. These are different systems, but each illustrates a basic pressure: governments increasingly want migration to solve identifiable labour-market problems.

What About the Pakistani Passport?

Here we need discipline. Online discussions quickly move from labour shortages to claims about Pakistanis submitting fake degrees, abusing asylum systems, committing crimes overseas or refusing to integrate.

Individual cases do not establish population-wide behaviour. Nor does a YouTube comment establish that Pakistani Americans avoid taxes, that Pakistanis are uniquely difficult to integrate, or that criminal behaviour by Pakistanis explains a particular country’s immigration policy. Those claims require comparative evidence.

I found much stronger official evidence for another explanation: governments are adjusting immigration systems around labour demand, program capacity and domestic economic priorities. That explanation is less sensational. It is also more useful.

My Son’s Experience Changed How I Read the System

When I look at my son’s experience now, I see it differently. A positive Engineers Australia assessment remains valuable. It establishes professional recognition for migration purposes.

But professional recognition answers one question: Are you appropriately qualified in the nominated engineering occupation?

SkillSelect asks another: Are you competitive enough to be invited under the migration settings operating now?

The labour market asks something harder still: Does an Australian employer need what you can do?

Those questions are not interchangeable. There is also a practical warning for anyone who has been waiting for years. An Australian SkillSelect EOI remains active for two years and is then archived. Applicants can update an active EOI when circumstances change.

Pakistan Needs a Different Migration Conversation

I would not tell a young Pakistani that foreign migration is finished. The evidence does not support that conclusion.

But I would no longer tell a young person that getting the right degree is enough. Before spending millions of rupees on foreign education, investigate official labour data. Check the exact occupation rather than the broad industry. Study the immigration route separately from the university-admission route.

Then ask the uncomfortable question: what evidence can I show that I can actually do the work?

A degree proves education. A professional assessment proves something else. An immigration invitation is another test entirely. An employer willing to pay for your skills may be the strongest market signal of all.

For Pakistani families, that may be the real migration shock of 2026.

The door has not disappeared. But the key we spent years polishing may no longer fit every lock.

EES 2026: What Pakistani Travellers to Europe Need to Know About Fingerprints, Facial Scans and the 90-Day Rule

Europe’s Entry/Exit System is now fully operational. Here is what Pakistani short-stay travellers need to know about biometric border checks, passport stamps, the 90/180-day rule, exemptions and ETIAS.

I know the old routine well. A Pakistani traveller leaves Karachi with a passport, a Schengen visa, hotel details or a family invitation tucked into the hand luggage. After landing in Europe, the decisive moment comes at passport control: a border officer checks the documents, asks a few questions and, if everything is in order, stamps the passport.

That familiar stamp has largely disappeared for short-stay visitors entering the Schengen area.

Europe’s Entry/Exit System (EES) became fully operational on 10 April 2026 after a phased rollout that began in October 2025. For eligible non-EU travellers, the external Schengen border is now a digital border. The system records travel-document details, biometric information, and the date and place of entry and exit. It also records refusals of entry.

For Pakistanis making short visits to Europe, this is more than a technical change at immigration. The EES creates a digital travel history that makes the old passport-stamp arithmetic far less important. It can identify overstays automatically. It can also make previous refusals visible to border authorities using the system.

What exactly has changed at the European border?

The EES covers non-EU nationals travelling for a short stay in the 29 European countries using the system. A short stay normally means no more than 90 days in any 180-day period across the countries concerned. The Council of the European Union explains that the system replaces manual passport stamping with electronic registration.

Suppose you fly from Karachi to Munich on a short-stay Schengen visa. Munich is your first external Schengen border. Your EES interaction happens there. If you later travel from Germany to France or Italy, you normally do not repeat an external-border registration simply because you crossed an internal Schengen border.

At the external border, EES can record your name and passport details, the place and date of entry, a facial image and required fingerprint data. When you leave, the exit is recorded as well. On later journeys, border officials can verify the biometric information already associated with your file rather than creating an entirely new identity record each time.

The European Commission says the system had already registered more than 145 million entries and exits by July 2026. It is therefore no longer a future proposal or a trial that Pakistani travellers can ignore. It is part of the operating border system.

Does EES mean every Pakistani will be fingerprinted?

No. This point needs care because headlines can easily overstate the rule.

EES generally applies to Pakistani nationals making eligible short stays because Pakistani citizens require a Schengen visa. But important exemptions exist. The European Commission’s July 2026 guidance says non-EU nationals holding a qualifying long-stay visa or residence permit issued by a country operating EES are generally not registered in the system. Certain non-EU family members of EU or associated-country citizens who hold the relevant residence documentation are also exempt.

Children under 12 are exempt from the requirement to provide fingerprints under the EES regulation. That does not mean the system simply ignores a child travelling on a short stay. Other applicable identity and entry information can still be recorded.

The practical lesson is simple: do not assume that “Pakistani passport” alone determines the procedure. Your immigration status and the type of document under which you travel matter.

The 90-days-in-180 rule has not disappeared

I expect this to become the most important part of EES for frequent Pakistani visitors, particularly parents visiting children in Germany, France or other Schengen countries.

EES does not give you extra days in Europe. It helps authorities calculate the days more accurately.

For an ordinary short stay, the familiar limit remains up to 90 days in any rolling 180-day period. The European Commission provides an official short-stay calculator to help travellers check compliance.

Under the old system, travellers often looked through passport stamps and counted days themselves. That could become confusing after several visits. EES digitally records entries and exits and is designed to detect people who exceed their authorised stay.

That makes casual assumptions dangerous. A multiple-entry visa valid for one year does not automatically mean that its holder can remain in the Schengen area for a full year. Visa validity, the authorised duration of stay and the 90/180 calculation are separate issues. Travellers should check the conditions printed on the visa and their actual travel history.

A valid Schengen visa still does not guarantee admission

This part has not changed merely because the border has become digital.

A visa allows you to travel to the border and request entry. Border authorities still apply the Schengen entry rules. They can ask about the purpose of the visit and supporting arrangements. A traveller may need to show evidence appropriate to the trip, such as accommodation details, an invitation, a return or onward journey, or sufficient means for the stay.

The EES also records refusals of entry. The European Commission reported in March 2026 that during the rollout more than 24,000 people had been refused entry for reasons including inadequate justification of their visit and expired or fraudulent documents. It said EES records can allow authorities in another participating country to see a previous refusal.

For a genuine visitor, the sensible response is not fear. It is consistency. Your visa application, stated purpose at the border and supporting documents should tell the same story.

What happens to the passport stamp?

For travellers registered through EES, the digital entry and exit record replaces the routine manual stamp used to track a short stay. The Commission states that EES has replaced passport stamping at external borders for travellers covered by the system.

Some travellers may miss the stamps. They were useful souvenirs, and I have often looked at old passports to reconstruct journeys. Administratively, however, the European system is moving in the opposite direction. The border record now sits in a database rather than on a page that a traveller can misread, lose with an old passport or present under a different identity.

EES is not ETIAS

This confusion is already producing poor travel advice online.

EES and ETIAS are different systems. EES is the border-registration system already operating. ETIAS is a travel authorisation for nationals of countries that can visit the relevant European countries without a short-stay visa. The European Commission says ETIAS is scheduled to start in the last quarter of 2026, with the precise date to be announced officially.

Pakistani citizens normally require a Schengen visa for short visits. ETIAS therefore does not replace the Schengen visa for an ordinary Pakistani passport holder. EES, by contrast, does affect eligible Pakistani short-stay visitors when they cross an external border.

If somebody tells a Pakistani traveller to “apply for ETIAS instead of a Schengen visa,” treat that advice with suspicion.

What should you prepare before leaving Karachi?

The introduction of EES does not require an ordinary Pakistani short-stay visa holder to complete some new EES application before boarding the aircraft. Registration takes place in connection with the external border crossing.

Your preparation should instead focus on the journey you are actually making. Check that your passport and visa are valid for the intended trip. Keep the documents that support the purpose of your visit readily accessible rather than buried in checked baggage. Know where you will stay and how long you intend to remain. If you have made several recent Schengen trips, calculate your remaining allowance before departure rather than relying on memory.

Travellers visiting relatives should also understand the difference between sponsorship and admission. An invitation from a daughter, son or other relative can support the purpose and financing of a trip, but it does not abolish border checks. The immigration officer still applies the entry rules to the traveller standing at the counter.

The EU Delegation to Pakistan has specifically informed Pakistani travellers about the EES rollout and directs travellers to the official European system for details. That is a better source than viral WhatsApp messages or travel-agent claims about supposed new “European permits.”

The deeper change is accountability

When I look at EES from Karachi, the fingerprint scanner is not the most interesting part.

The real change is that Europe’s external border is becoming less dependent on what can be inferred from ink in a passport. The system links identity, biometrics and travel movements in a digital record. According to the EU, one purpose is to identify overstayers more efficiently and make identity fraud harder.

That can help legitimate travellers too. A properly recorded exit provides evidence that a visitor left within the authorised period. Subsequent border crossings can use biometric verification against an existing record. The Commission presents this as both a security measure and a way to make later checks more efficient.

Still, digital borders deserve scrutiny. Biometric systems hold highly sensitive personal information, and European law sets rules governing access, retention and data protection. Travellers should understand that the convenience of losing the passport stamp comes with a much more systematic record of movement.

For Pakistani travellers, the old border habit is over

A Pakistani family landing in Munich today may still see the same immigration booths and the same queue signs. The officer may ask familiar questions. Yet the machinery behind that encounter has changed.

Europe now records eligible short-stay entries and exits electronically. It can calculate overstays without relying on a collection of stamps. Biometrics make it harder to separate a traveller’s identity from previous border encounters.

None of this should alarm a Pakistani traveller who has a genuine visit, valid documents and a clear travel history. It should change one habit, though.

Do not think of a Schengen journey only in terms of obtaining the visa.

The visa gets you to Europe’s door. EES increasingly records what happens when you cross it, and when you come back out.

Your Karachi Flight May Leave on Time. Your Gulf Connection Is Now the Risk.

Middle East airspace tensions are changing the risks for Pakistani travellers connecting through Dubai, Doha and Abu Dhabi. The airports remain open, but delays, rerouting and sudden cancellations mean passengers should pay closer attention to connections, ticket protection and travel insurance.

A traveller can stand at Karachi airport, look at the departure board and see exactly what he wants to see: On Time.

His flight to Dubai is operating. His passport is ready. His luggage has been checked in. Somewhere in his hand luggage sits the boarding pass for the second flight to Europe.

I used to think that once the first flight left Karachi, most of the uncertainty was over.

In the Middle East of September 2026, I would no longer make that assumption.

Dubai and Abu Dhabi airports remain operational. Gulf airlines continue to fly large networks. Yet cancellations, lengthy delays and route changes have appeared across the region as airlines respond to security developments, airspace risks and regulatory restrictions.

For Pakistani passengers, the important question is therefore changing.

It is no longer simply: Is my flight from Karachi operating?

It is also: What happens to my journey after I reach the Gulf?

The Gulf Hub Made International Travel Easier for Pakistan

For decades, geography has worked in Pakistan’s favour.

Karachi sits only a relatively short flight from the Gulf. Dubai, Doha and Abu Dhabi turned that proximity into an enormous international transport advantage. A passenger from Pakistan could reach a Gulf hub and connect onwards to Europe, North America or Africa without relying on a Pakistani airline to operate the entire journey.

The model works because the hub behaves almost like a giant railway interchange in the sky.

Aircraft arrive from dozens of cities. Passengers change planes. The airline then redistributes them across its global network.

That system depends on something travellers rarely think about when everything works normally: predictable airspace.

The assumption has weakened in 2026.

The European Union Aviation Safety Agency, or EASA, currently maintains a conflict-zone information bulletin covering the airspace of the Persian Gulf and Gulf of Oman. Its bulletin includes Bahrain, Kuwait, Qatar, the United Arab Emirates and Oman. The current revision was issued on 31 August and is valid through 30 September unless reviewed earlier.

EASA says the regional security situation remains volatile and identifies risks associated with military activity around the Gulf.

That does not mean Gulf airports are closed. Nor does it mean a passenger should assume his flight will be cancelled.

It means airlines are operating inside a more complicated risk environment than the familiar Karachi-Dubai-Frankfurt itinerary on a booking screen suggests.

Dubai and Abu Dhabi Are Still Operating

This distinction matters.

Reports of Middle East aviation disruption can easily create the impression that Dubai or Abu Dhabi has effectively stopped functioning. That is not what the evidence shows.

On 25 September, Gulf News reported that Dubai International and Abu Dhabi’s Zayed International Airport remained operational while airlines continued to adjust schedules. Some services were delayed or cancelled, and passengers were being advised to check their flight status before travelling to the airport.

The pattern is uneven.

One flight operates normally. Another leaves late. A third disappears from the schedule.

That unevenness creates a particular problem for connecting passengers.

A traveller whose Karachi-Dubai flight operates may still encounter trouble if the Dubai-Europe sector changes. A delay on the first sector can also destroy what looked like a comfortable connection when the ticket was purchased.

The airport can remain open while an individual journey falls apart.

A New UAE Decision Shows How Quickly Conditions Can Change

On 24 September, the UAE General Civil Aviation Authority announced that flights operated by Iranian airlines to and from the UAE had been suspended until further notice.

For most Pakistanis travelling through Dubai, this does not directly cancel an Emirates flight from Karachi.

Its importance lies elsewhere.

A regulatory decision can alter part of the regional aviation network almost immediately.

Airlines do not operate only according to passenger demand and published timetables. They must also respond to airspace restrictions, government decisions and security assessments.

A route printed on a ticket weeks earlier is therefore a plan, not a guarantee.

Why Airspace Matters Even When Your Destination Is Peaceful

I find this part easy to underestimate.

A Pakistani traveller may be flying from Karachi to Munich. Neither city is part of the Gulf conflict zone. He may reasonably wonder why developments elsewhere in the Middle East should concern him.

Look at the route rather than the destination.

An aircraft does not move between two airport codes in a straight line without constraints. Airlines must select safe and legally available airspace. When particular corridors become risky or unavailable, aircraft may have to take longer routes.

That can increase flying time.

It can also disturb aircraft rotations. A plane arriving late in Dubai may operate another service later that day. Crew-duty limits matter as well. Disruption can therefore travel through an airline’s network even when the passenger’s own destination is far from the original problem.

flydubai’s operational guidance illustrates the mechanism. The airline has warned that flight durations and Dubai transit times may become longer when flight paths have to be temporarily rerouted. It advises passengers to keep checking flight status and operational updates.

The British government’s current travel advice for Pakistan also warns that regional tensions can cause travel disruption and advises passengers to check with airlines before travelling.

The disruption does not need to reach Karachi physically to affect someone leaving Karachi.

The Connection Is Where the Financial Risk Appears

Now imagine two travellers.

Both are flying Karachi-Dubai-Munich.

One has bought the entire journey on a single through-ticket. The other has found a cheaper combination online: Karachi-Dubai on one booking and Dubai-Munich on another.

The itineraries may look almost identical on a screen.

Their risk is not necessarily identical.

When flights are booked under one protected itinerary, the operating airline normally has established procedures for dealing with a disrupted connection, subject to its conditions of carriage and the circumstances involved.

Separate tickets can create a harder problem.

If the first flight arrives late and the passenger misses the independently booked second flight, the second carrier may treat him as a no-show. Whether he receives assistance, rebooking or reimbursement will depend on the ticket conditions, applicable passenger-rights rules and any insurance he bought.

This is why I would be cautious about constructing a tight Gulf connection from separate tickets merely to save money.

The cheapest itinerary can become expensive very quickly.

Do Not Treat Every Cancellation as Evidence of War

There is another trap.

Not every delay at Dubai or Abu Dhabi is caused by geopolitical tension.

Airlines experience technical problems. Weather interferes with operations. Air-traffic-control failures occur. Aircraft arrive late from previous sectors.

A useful travel guide must preserve this distinction. Otherwise every delayed flight becomes evidence for a dramatic geopolitical narrative.

The relevant development in September 2026 is narrower.

Regional security conditions have added another source of uncertainty to an aviation system that already deals with ordinary operational disruption.

For the passenger, the cause matters because it may affect rebooking rights and insurance coverage.

Travel Insurance Deserves Another Look

Many Pakistanis still treat travel insurance as a visa document.

Buy the policy. Print the certificate. Put it in the Schengen file.

Finished.

That approach makes less sense when a journey passes through an aviation region exposed to sudden disruption.

A traveller should read what the policy actually covers.

Does it cover a missed connection? What happens after a lengthy delay? Does cancellation caused by armed conflict fall within coverage, or does the policy exclude war and related events?

There is no universal answer.

Policies differ.

What I Would Check Before Leaving Karachi

The old routine was simple. Confirm the ticket, reach Jinnah International Airport early and fly.

I would add another layer now.

First, I would check the individual flight number, not merely whether the airline is operating.

Emirates, Qatar Airways, Etihad and flydubai maintain flight-status or operational-update services. A headline saying an airline is “operating normally” cannot tell you whether your particular service has been delayed.

I would check again before leaving home.

For a connecting journey, I would then check the second sector separately. If the connection has become very tight, I would contact the airline before reaching the transit airport rather than discover the problem at the gate.

I would also make sure the airline has my current mobile number and email address.

There is another precaution I increasingly favour: keep essential medication, documents and a basic change of clothing in cabin baggage within the airline’s allowance.

A six-hour delay is irritating.

An unexpected overnight transit without your checked suitcase is something else.

Pakistani Travellers Should Also Watch the Transit Country

We naturally concentrate on the country printed beside “Destination.”

A Karachi passenger flying to Germany thinks about German immigration. Someone going to Britain checks UK visa rules.

The transit state deserves attention too.

A passenger travelling Karachi-Dubai-London has exposure to conditions in Pakistan, the UAE and Britain during the same journey.

Karachi-Doha-Paris creates another chain.

The ticket may be one document. Operationally, the journey crosses several regulatory and aviation environments.

Should Pakistanis Avoid Gulf Airlines?

The evidence does not support such a sweeping conclusion.

Dubai and Abu Dhabi remain major operating hubs. Gulf carriers continue carrying passengers through their networks despite reduced or adjusted schedules on some routes.

The more useful lesson is about resilience.

A traveller should favour a through-ticket when practical. Extremely tight connections deserve more scrutiny than before. Separate-ticket itineraries require particular caution.

And a passenger should stop treating a confirmed booking as the final word on whether a flight will operate exactly as scheduled.

In calmer times, I might have checked my ticket a day before departure and thought little more about it.

In September 2026, I would check again.

The Departure Board Does Not Tell the Whole Story

Back at Karachi airport, the board can still say On Time.

That remains good news.

But it tells me only that the first piece of my journey is working.

Somewhere beyond Karachi, an airline operations team may be examining airspace. Another government may issue a restriction. An incoming aircraft may already be late because it flew around an unavailable corridor.

None of this means Pakistani travellers should stop travelling.

It means the habits that worked in a predictable aviation system need adjustment.

Check the flight number. Check the connection. Understand what your ticket protects.

Then look at the departure board.

It is still useful.

It just no longer tells the whole story.

Flying from Karachi With a Power Bank? Check the Airline Rule Before You Pack

At Karachi airport, a power bank looks like one of the least important things in a passenger’s bag. Passport, visa, medicines and boarding pass demand more attention. The small battery that keeps a phone alive during a long connection usually goes into a backpack almost without thought. Yet I would now put the power bank on the pre-flight checklist, especially when travelling from Karachi through Dubai or Doha.

The reason is simple. Airlines have tightened their treatment of portable lithium batteries, and the rules are not identical. A power bank acceptable on one airline may create a problem on another.

For a Pakistani traveller, particularly an older passenger making a long international journey, knowing the rule before reaching Jinnah International Airport can prevent an unnecessary argument at security or the boarding gate.

Why Airlines Worry About Power Banks

A power bank contains lithium-ion cells. Under certain conditions, a damaged or defective cell can overheat and enter what battery specialists call thermal runaway.

The location of the battery then becomes important.

If a power bank starts overheating inside the passenger cabin, cabin crew can identify the problem and respond. If the same battery is buried inside checked baggage in the aircraft’s cargo hold, detection and intervention become much more difficult.

For this reason, international aviation rules treat power banks as spare lithium batteries. They belong in cabin baggage, not checked baggage.

I think this distinction is easy to overlook at Karachi airport. Many passengers understand that laptops and phones contain batteries, but a power bank often gets treated like an ordinary charger. It is not. A charger contains electronics; a power bank stores electrical energy in lithium cells.

Qatar Airways Passengers From Karachi

A passenger flying Karachi → Doha → Europe, North America or another destination needs to follow Qatar Airways’ current power-bank restrictions.

Qatar Airways allows a maximum of two power banks per passenger, with each power bank limited to 100 watt-hours (Wh).

They must travel in the cabin.

The airline also prohibits passengers from using power banks during the flight or charging them from the aircraft’s electrical supply. Their terminals should remain protected against accidental short circuits.

Accessibility has also become important. Do not bury the batteries somewhere that makes them difficult to reach.

For a Karachi passenger, I would use a small pouch inside the personal bag kept under the seat. That makes the batteries easy to identify and remove if airline staff ask to inspect them.

Emirates Passengers Face a Stricter Rule

The situation changes if the journey is Karachi → Dubai → onward destination on Emirates.

Emirates introduced tighter power-bank restrictions from 1 October 2025. The airline permits only one power bank per passenger, with a capacity below 100 Wh.

It must remain in the cabin.

More importantly, Emirates does not allow passengers to store the power bank in the overhead locker. It should remain in the seat pocket or inside a bag placed beneath the seat in front.

Passengers also cannot use the power bank to charge another device during the flight. Nor can they recharge the power bank using the aircraft’s electrical supply.

That creates an important practical difference.

A passenger may own two perfectly legal 20,000 mAh power banks. Qatar Airways may permit both within its numerical limit, but an Emirates journey restricts the passenger to one.

The safest habit is therefore not to ask, “Are power banks allowed on international flights?”

Ask instead: What does my operating airline allow?

Is Your 20,000 mAh Power Bank Under 100 Wh?

Here another problem appears.

Most power banks sold in Karachi display their capacity prominently in mAh, or milliamp-hours. Airlines commonly express their limit in Wh, or watt-hours.

Those measurements are related, but they are not identical.

The calculation is:

Wh = (mAh × battery voltage) ÷ 1,000

A typical lithium-ion power bank uses cells with a nominal voltage around 3.7 volts. Using that figure gives a useful approximation.

A 10,000 mAh power bank works out at roughly 37 Wh.

A 20,000 mAh model comes to about 74 Wh.

At 25,000 mAh, the figure is approximately 92.5 Wh. A 27,000 mAh battery sits very close to the 100 Wh boundary.

A 30,000 mAh power bank, however, may exceed 100 Wh.

This is why I would not buy a large power bank for international travel merely because its online description says “travel friendly.” Check the manufacturer’s actual Wh specification first.

Do Not Travel With a Power Bank Whose Label Has Disappeared

There is another small detail that can become a large airport problem.

Look at your power bank before leaving home.

Can you still read its capacity?

Older power banks often have specifications printed in small lettering on the casing. After years inside pockets and travel bags, that printing can fade.

I would retire such a power bank from international travel even if it still works perfectly.

Emirates requires capacity information to be available and clearly visible. More broadly, airport and airline staff need some reliable way of establishing whether a battery falls within the permitted limit.

A passenger standing at a security checkpoint cannot easily prove that an unmarked black box contains a 74 Wh battery rather than one exceeding 100 Wh.

Showing a calculation on your phone may not solve the problem. Nor would I depend on a homemade sticker saying “74 Wh.”

For travel, buy a reputable power bank with permanent, legible manufacturer markings showing its electrical specifications.

The Gate-Check Trap at Karachi Airport

One situation deserves special attention because even an experienced traveller can make this mistake.

You correctly place the power bank inside your cabin trolley.

Everything seems fine.

At the boarding gate, however, airline staff announce that overhead storage is limited. They tag your cabin trolley and tell you that it will travel in the aircraft hold.

Your power bank is now inside baggage that is about to become checked baggage.

Take it out before handing over the trolley.

The same principle applies during an onward connection in Dubai or Doha. A bag accepted as cabin baggage in Karachi might later have to be checked because of aircraft configuration, space restrictions or another operational reason.

This is why I prefer keeping a power bank in a smaller personal bag rather than inside the main cabin suitcase.

The passport and phone are already there. The power bank can stay there too, provided the operating airline’s storage rules are followed.

A Simple Karachi Airport Power-Bank Check

Before leaving home for Jinnah International Airport, I would make four checks.

First, check the airline.
Do not assume Emirates, Qatar Airways, Turkish Airlines and other carriers follow exactly the same operational rule.

Second, check the capacity.
Look for the manufacturer’s Wh marking. Staying comfortably below 100 Wh removes much of the uncertainty.

Third, check the label.
Make sure the capacity and other specifications remain readable.

Fourth, check the bag.
Never put the power bank into checked luggage. If airline staff take your cabin bag at the gate, remove the power bank first.

There is also a sensible physical precaution. Keep the battery away from loose metal objects that might contact its terminals, and do not travel with a swollen, damaged or unusually hot power bank.

The Rule I Would Remember

Long international journeys from Karachi increasingly depend on the smartphone. Boarding passes sit there. Airline messages arrive there, and the same phone may provide maps or contact with family during a long connection.

So carrying a power bank makes sense.

But I no longer regard it as just another electronic accessory.

For my own packing, I would use a simple rule: a clearly marked power bank below 100 Wh stays with me in the cabin, never inside checked baggage.

Then I would check the operating airline’s latest restriction before leaving for Karachi airport.

The difference between Qatar Airways allowing up to two qualifying power banks and Emirates limiting passengers to one shows why the final check matters. Aviation rules continue to change as airlines respond to lithium-battery incidents.

A small battery can therefore create an unexpectedly large problem at the beginning of a journey.

Better to discover the rule at home than at the security counter.

UBL Led HBL in Deposits. Is Pakistan Measuring the Wrong Banking Champion?

UBL led HBL in deposits at 30 June 2026, but the balance sheets raise a harder question: how do Pakistan’s banks fund their assets and extend credit?

A banking league table stopped me while I was scrolling in Karachi. UBL appeared ahead of HBL on deposits. I have worked around banking and cross-border payments long enough to pause at a balance-sheet headline: what does first place actually measure?

At 30 June 2026, UBL’s unconsolidated financial statement reported Rs 6.119 trillion in deposits and other accounts. HBL reported total deposits of about Rs 5.9 trillion in its half-year results. On that reported measure and date, UBL led by roughly Rs 200 billion. The margin was about 3.4 percent of HBL’s deposit base, close enough to make the date and accounting basis essential to the claim.

The number on the league table

UBL’s deposits rose from Rs 5.168 trillion at December 2025 to Rs 6.119 trillion six months later. That is an increase of about Rs 950 billion, or 18.4 percent. The change in a reported balance does not mean that Rs 950 billion of entirely new household savings arrived at its counters. Corporate balances, public-sector funds and ordinary account flows can all affect a closing-day figure.

The Silkbank merger also needs a proper place in this account. The State Bank sanctioned Silkbank’s amalgamation into UBL on 10 March 2025. It expanded UBL’s franchise, but its assets and liabilities were already within the bank before the December 2025 comparison date. We cannot explain the first half of 2026 increase as a fresh merger entry.

A deposit is a bank’s liability to its customer. The bank holds assets against the funding it gathers, alongside funding from other sources. Calling the biggest deposit collector the best bank therefore asks a narrow question and supplies an even narrower answer.

Follow the balance sheet

UBL’s June statement places its advances at Rs 1.534 trillion and investments at Rs 11.915 trillion. Dividing the reported advances by deposits gives roughly 25 percent. That is a simple calculation from two line items, not an official regulatory advances-to-deposits ratio. It says nothing on its own about the type, quality or economic value of individual loans.

The same statement records borrowings of Rs 7.999 trillion. That figure matters. It would be wrong to set UBL’s investments beside its deposits and announce that depositors’ money went straight into government securities. A bank funds its assets across the whole liability side of its balance sheet. Secured money-market borrowing can support a securities book as part of treasury operations.

Nor does the word “investments” mean only government lending. Securities portfolios can include different instruments, and a government’s paper serves liquidity and risk-management purposes. The useful question is how much exposure each bank carries, how it funds that exposure and how it balances it against private credit. A large investment book invites scrutiny; its size alone is no verdict of wrongdoing.

HBL’s reported deposit total leaves it behind UBL on this particular June measure. Its lending book may tell a different story about business mix, but a fair numerical comparison needs the same reporting basis and a clear choice between gross and net advances. A single ratio cannot turn either bank into an economic champion. Rapid loan growth can also create bad loans.

The state inside the banking story

The SBP’s weekly statement for 26 June 2026 shows domestic operations of all scheduled banks. It records Rs 39.638 trillion in deposits, Rs 14.780 trillion in gross advances and Rs 42.751 trillion in investments. Those are domestic system totals on 26 June. They are not the same scope or date as UBL’s 30 June unconsolidated accounts, so they should illuminate the system rather than be added to a bank-by-bank calculation.

The contrast is striking, though it cannot establish cause by itself. Pakistan’s state needs a domestic market for its debt; banks also need assets they can trade or pledge for liquidity. Manufacturers in SITE and Korangi meet another set of questions: what will a credit line cost, and how will a lender assess the risk? I cannot infer from a national balance sheet that a particular factory lost a loan because a bank bought Treasury bills. I can ask whether persistent public financing needs shape the terms on which private borrowers compete for bank capacity.

From a payments desk, money has a sender, a beneficiary and a settlement path. In treasury, the same institution sees funding costs and liquid assets. A business owner sees the cost and availability of working capital. Those views belong in the same banking story, even when a ranking graphic has room for only one column.

A better scoreboard

I would start with deposits, then put comparable gross advances and their quality beside them. I would examine the composition of investments and the sources of wholesale funding. The questions become sharper when we distinguish lending to a large, established borrower from credit that reaches smaller firms on workable terms.

UBL led HBL in reported deposits at 30 June 2026. That is a meaningful change to the ranking, and it deserves an accurate headline. It does not settle which institution contributes more to productive activity, manages risk better or serves customers more effectively. The answer needs more than a closing-day total.

The league table told me who held the larger deposit balance. I still want to know where credit went.

When a Campus Event Becomes a Battle Over Pakistan’s Identity

Why do some cultural events at Pakistani universities become battles over Islam, identity and national values while others pass peacefully? Punjab University and Quaid-i-Azam University show that the deeper problem lies in institutional authority, inconsistent rules and the struggle over who gets to define acceptable campus life.

A university lawn can change character very quickly in Pakistan.

One moment, students are setting up stalls. Music is playing somewhere. A group rehearses a dance, another hangs a banner, and most students walk past because they have classes, assignments or tea waiting for them. Then a video reaches social media.

The event is no longer just an event.

Within hours, people who were never on the campus may be debating Islam, Pakistani culture and the ideological purpose of the state. Students become representatives of competing identities. A university administrator who thought he was approving an extracurricular activity suddenly finds himself managing a national controversy.

I have watched this pattern often enough to think we ask the wrong question about it.

The question is not whether Pakistani universities should become secular spaces detached from religion. Nor is it whether religiously conservative students should remain silent when something genuinely troubles them.

The harder question is institutional: who decides what is acceptable on a Pakistani university campus, under which published rules, and what happens when ideological pressure becomes more powerful than those rules?

A Cultural Festival That Ended With Tear Gas

Consider what happened at Punjab University in March 2017.

Students were holding a Pakhtun cultural festival. According to contemporary reporting by Dawn, a confrontation broke out between students associated with the cultural event and activists of Islami Jamiat-i-Talaba, or IJT. At least 10 students were injured. Police eventually used tear gas.

Even the basic story was contested. Punjab’s then law minister blamed IJT for trying to stop the cultural show. The Punjab University vice chancellor also said IJT students had attacked first. IJT disputed that account and accused the other students of attacking its activities.

That distinction matters. I do not want to turn a disputed campus clash into a morality tale in which one group represents intolerance and another represents freedom.

Something more important happened afterwards. Punjab University restricted the activities of student organisations. Students wishing to organise programmes would have to submit proposals to the administration, which could approve them and arrange security.

There, almost hidden beneath the ideological argument, sits the real institutional problem. A university should know who may organise an event. It should know where it can be held. The same rules should apply when the organisers are religious, ethnic, cultural or political groups.

Then Came Holi

Quaid-i-Azam University provides an even clearer example of how quickly campus administration can become a national argument about identity.

Students celebrated Holi there in 2023. Videos circulated widely. The Higher Education Commission then sent universities a letter advising higher education institutions to distance themselves from activities it described as incompatible with Pakistan’s identity and societal values. The letter referred to the country’s Islamic identity.

The reaction was immediate. HEC subsequently withdrew the communication. The federal education minister told the National Assembly that HEC should not have issued it. HEC, for its part, said it respected religions, faiths and their associated festivals and that its earlier communication had been misinterpreted.

Yet the story did not end with HEC’s retreat. QAU later issued show-cause notices to students. The university’s stated issue was more specific: students had allegedly organised the celebration without prior approval and continued playing loud music despite instructions from security personnel.

Those are two quite different questions: should Hindu students be able to celebrate Holi, and can students hold an event without following university procedures?

Pakistan gets into trouble when it mixes the two. A university can reasonably regulate time, location, sound, security and prior approval. Such regulations can apply to a Holi celebration as they apply to a concert, an Islamic conference or a cultural night. Once administrators instead start deciding whether a particular culture is sufficiently Pakistani, the argument moves from administration into ideology.

What the Constitution Actually Says

Pakistan’s Constitution does not settle every campus dispute. It does, however, establish boundaries that are often simplified in public debate.

Article 19 protects freedom of speech and expression. The protection is not absolute. The Constitution expressly allows reasonable restrictions imposed by law on specified grounds, including the glory of Islam, public order, decency and morality.

That qualification matters. People who argue for unrestricted expression cannot simply quote the first half of Article 19 and ignore the rest.

But the Constitution contains other protections too. Article 20 protects citizens’ right to profess, practise and propagate their religion, subject to law, public order and morality. Article 22 contains protections concerning religious instruction and participation in religious ceremonies in educational institutions.

Pakistan therefore does not have to choose between being an Islamic republic and recognising religious diversity. The constitutional structure contains both elements. The difficult work lies in administering them.

What About Islam?

This is where I would revise an argument I have sometimes seen made too casually.

It is tempting to respond to every controversy by saying Islam has nothing to fear from music, dance or cultural festivals. That sounds confident. It solves very little.

Muslims themselves disagree over some forms of music, dancing, gender interaction and public celebration. Those disagreements have long histories in Islamic jurisprudence and social practice. A university administration is hardly the institution that should settle centuries of fiqh before approving a student programme.

Religious students should therefore be able to argue that an activity conflicts with their understanding of Islam. They should be heard. But being heard is different from possessing a veto.

A university cannot function if whichever group can mobilise the strongest pressure acquires the power to decide what everyone else may do. The same principle must work in the other direction. Administrators should not dismiss religious students as backward merely because they object to an event. Their beliefs are part of the university community too.

Pluralism is not agreement. It is the institutional management of disagreement.

The Abdus Salam Case Shows How Far the Problem Can Travel

The controversy becomes more uncomfortable when the event is not primarily cultural.

In May 2024, QAU postponed an Abdus Salam Science Festival that had been planned by the university’s science society in collaboration with the Pakistan Academy of Sciences and the National Centre for Physics.

The proposed programme concerned science and education. Reporting at the time said a religious group had expressed objections connected with Abdus Salam’s faith.

The vice chancellor rejected the claim that the university had cancelled the festival under pressure. He cited the academic calendar and approaching examinations as the reason for postponement, although he acknowledged that people and groups had expressed reservations. That qualification must remain in any fair account.

Still, the episode illustrates the institutional dilemma. If a science festival honouring Pakistan’s first Nobel laureate becomes entangled in a dispute about religious identity, university administrators need transparent rules more than ever. Otherwise nobody outside the administration can distinguish an academic scheduling decision from capitulation to pressure.

Yet Not Every Cultural Event Causes a Crisis

There is another fact that complicates my original argument.

In January 2026, QAU hosted what organisers called a Grand Night and Peace Mela. It included traditional Attan, music, food stalls and cultural displays. A Pashto singer performed. The event was presented as a celebration of cultural diversity and social harmony.

No comparable national ideological crisis followed. That matters because it destroys the lazy claim that every Pakistani university cultural event becomes a religious battle.

It does not.

So we should ask a better question. Why do some events become symbolic confrontations while others remain ordinary campus life?

The answer appears to depend partly on what an event comes to represent. Religion may be involved. Ethnic politics can matter. Rival student organisations and administrative weakness can turn relatively small disputes into larger confrontations.

Social media adds another layer. A short video removes an event from its institutional setting. Thousands of viewers then judge it without knowing whether permission was granted, what happened before filming began or what university regulations actually say.

The physical event ends. The symbolic event begins.

HEC Itself Recognises Campus Life Beyond the Classroom

There is also a misconception that universities exist only for lectures and examinations. HEC’s own programmes recognise a broader institutional role.

Its Youth Development Centers initiative discusses student clubs, societies, sports and extracurricular activities. This does not mean every proposed event must receive approval. It means extracurricular life is not an accidental corruption of higher education. Properly governed student activity is part of university life.

The key phrase is properly governed.

Universities need published event rules. Approval procedures should be predictable. Security assessments should address actual risks rather than ideological popularity. Decisions should state reasons.

If loud music violates a rule, enforce that rule consistently. If an event creates a genuine security problem, document it. If students organise something without required permission, use the disciplinary procedure already available.

But do not transform an administrative disagreement into a referendum on who is a proper Muslim or a proper Pakistani.

Universities Cannot Escape Pakistan’s Arguments

I do not expect Pakistani campuses to become ideologically neutral islands. They cannot.

Students arrive carrying the arguments of their families, mosques, neighbourhoods and political histories. Pakistan itself continues to debate the relationship between religion and citizenship. Universities inevitably inherit those tensions.

Perhaps they should.

A university that contains no disagreement is not necessarily peaceful. It may simply have taught one side to remain silent.

The test is what happens after disagreement begins. Does the university apply a rule? Does it explain the decision? Can students object without intimidation?

Those questions sound bureaucratic beside the grand language of Islam, ideology and national identity. Yet bureaucracy, when it works properly, protects people from having every disagreement decided by whoever can generate the most pressure.

I keep returning to that university lawn.

The music is not really the most important part of the scene. Neither is the dance, the banner or the angry social-media post that may appear later.

The important thing is the institution standing around them.

If its rules are clear and consistently enforced, students can disagree sharply and still share a campus.

When those rules collapse, almost anything can become an ideological threat.

Sometimes even a festival.

HBL Cash Transfer Facility: The Risks and Traps You Should Know Before Taking the Money

HBL Cash Transfer Facility offers cash against your credit limit. Learn about markup, fees, early settlement charges and key risks before you borrow.

The money lands in your bank account.

The balance has changed. Nothing on the screen looks like a loan document anymore. That is the moment when borrowed money can begin to feel like your own money.

HBL offers a Cash Transfer Facility that lets credit-card holders convert part of their available card limit into funds. The money can go directly into an HBL account, or the customer can request a pay order.

It looks convenient. It may sometimes be useful.

But I would not accept this facility after looking only at the monthly installment. The real decision sits deeper in the terms: how much the borrowing will ultimately cost and what happens if you want to get out early.

What Exactly Is HBL Offering You?

HBL’s Cash Transfer Facility draws from your existing available HBL CreditCard limit. HBL does not describe it as a separate additional credit line.

The bank currently states that customers can book a minimum of Rs 10,000. The maximum can reach Rs 3 million, subject to the available credit limit. Repayment options run from three months to 60 months.

Once HBL books the plan, the monthly installment starts appearing from the next credit-card statement. You may receive cash in your bank account, but the debt remains connected to your credit card.

The First Trap: Do Not Stop at “2% Per Month”

HBL advertises a standard rate of 24% per annum, or 2% monthly. Its published Schedule of Bank Charges describes the HBL Installment Plan service charge as 24% per annum of the outstanding installment-plan amount.

I would still ask for an actual repayment schedule before accepting the facility. Suppose I wanted Rs 300,000 for 24 months. I would ask HBL to tell me the monthly installment and the total markup I would pay over those 24 months. Then I would ask for the total amount payable.

That number matters more to me than “2% monthly.”

A Small Monthly Installment Can Hide a Long Commitment

A customer looks at the monthly installment and thinks: “I can manage that.” Perhaps he can.

But extending repayment reduces the monthly pressure while keeping the debt alive for longer. HBL offers tenures extending to 60 months. Five years is a long time to remain connected to money that may have been spent within a few days.

The better comparison is not simply how much will I pay each month? It is how much will I have paid by the time this debt disappears?

Illustration of a PKR 300,000 cash transfer over 24 months with repayment, fee and early-settlement symbols.
Illustrative example: a Rs 300,000 cash transfer over 24 months. Actual installments, taxes and charges should be confirmed with HBL before booking.

The Advertised Rate Is Not Your Only Cost

HBL currently lists a Rs 1,200 installment-plan processing fee. Customers requesting a physical pay order or demand draft face a Rs 500 charge. HBL states that FED applies to these charges.

Fixed charges deserve particular attention when the amount borrowed is small. A Rs 1,200 processing fee feels very different on Rs 500,000 than it does on Rs 20,000.

The 6% Early-Payment Charge Can Change Your Calculation

HBL states that early payment attracts a charge equal to 6% of the remaining principal amount.

Consider a customer who still owes Rs 200,000 in principal but now has enough money to clear the debt. Six percent of Rs 200,000 is Rs 12,000.

The customer needs to put that Rs 12,000 charge into the settlement calculation before deciding whether early repayment produces the saving expected. Choosing a long tenure because you expect to clear it early may still work, but calculate it first.

Closing Your Credit Card Can Trigger Another Problem

HBL’s terms state that if the credit card is cancelled or terminated, the installment plan terminates automatically. The cardholder then becomes liable for the remaining installment amount, together with the applicable prepayment charges.

I would therefore never cancel the card first and investigate the installment later. Ask HBL for the settlement amount before requesting card closure.

Your Cash Transfer Uses Your Existing Credit Limit

Suppose your HBL CreditCard limit is Rs 500,000 and you take Rs 300,000 through the Cash Transfer Facility. You have not received Rs 300,000 while preserving the original Rs 500,000 borrowing capacity. The facility uses your available credit limit.

For someone who keeps a credit card partly for emergencies, that deserves careful thought. I would also ask HBL: As I repay the principal every month, how much of my credit limit becomes available again, and when?

The Installment Becomes Part of Your Credit-Card Bill

HBL states that the monthly installment becomes part of the Minimum Payment Amount shown on the statement. If the cardholder pays less than the required minimum by the due date, charges can apply under the broader HBL CreditCard Terms and Conditions.

The cash-transfer installment arrives on the same financial landscape as ordinary card spending. Look at both together.

You Cannot Simply Change the Tenure Later

Suppose you choose 36 months. Six months later, your financial position improves and you decide that a 12-month arrangement would have suited you better.

HBL’s terms state that once the installment plan has been booked, its amount and tenure cannot be changed. Ending the arrangement is a different matter, and early-payment charges may then become relevant.

HBL Allows Five Plans, but Look at the Combined Burden

HBL allows a cardmember to hold as many as five installment plans at a time, subject to the credit limit and the bank’s approval. I would treat five as a facility limit, not a financial target.

Three small installments can look harmless when considered separately. On one statement, they arrive together. Then normal card purchases are added. The combined figure is the one your income must support.

Keep Evidence of What HBL Offered You

HBL says customers can obtain the facility through PhoneBanking. If I booked by telephone, I would note the date and approximate time of the call. I would retain the applicable terms and Schedule of Bank Charges.

When the first installment appeared, I would save that statement too. If a later disagreement develops about the markup, fee or settlement amount, those records give you something concrete to compare with what you were originally offered.

Read More Than the Promotional Page

The Cash Transfer Facility remains subject to its specific terms as well as the broader HBL CreditCard Terms and Conditions. HBL also refers customers to its Schedule of Bank Charges for applicable charges.

Do not rely on a promotional screenshot alone. Read the applicable terms. Save a copy.

Ask HBL These Questions Before You Accept

If I were considering Rs 300,000 for 24 months, I would ask: What will my exact monthly installment be?

Then: How much markup will I pay over the full 24 months, and what will my total repayment be?

I would confirm the processing fee and applicable FED. I would also ask how HBL will calculate the settlement amount if I repay early, and when repaid principal becomes available again as part of my credit limit.

If HBL can provide a detailed repayment schedule, I would request it before making the decision.

So, When Can HBL Cash Transfer Make Sense?

The facility is not automatically a bad financial product. Someone may need liquidity for an unavoidable expense and prefer predictable installments. A customer may compare the facility with another legitimate borrowing option and find HBL’s offer suitable.

The danger appears when the decision rests almost entirely on the monthly installment. Borrowing Rs 300,000 does not become cheap merely because repayment stretches far enough to produce a comfortable monthly figure.

HBL can decide whether it is willing to extend the facility. Only you can decide whether taking it makes financial sense.

My Test Before Turning a Credit Limit Into Cash

I would put five figures on paper before accepting the offer: cash I will actually receive, monthly installment, total markup, fees and applicable taxes, and total amount paid by the final installment.

Then I would add one more: What will it cost me to get out early?

If I cannot obtain those figures, I do not understand the borrowing well enough to accept it.

The most dangerous moment may not be when HBL approves the Cash Transfer Facility. It may come a few minutes later.

The balance on your bank screen may say Rs 300,000.

It is still borrowed money.

Falling Birth Rates: What Happens When We Ask Women to Fix a Country’s Future?

Falling birth rates prompt governments to ask women for more children. The harder question is whether people can have the families they actually want, in Pakistan and beyond.

By Muhammad Munaeem Jamal

In Karachi, a conversation about children rarely begins with a population chart. It begins with a rent payment, a school bill, or a relative asking a newly married couple when they will have their first baby. Notice who usually has to answer that last question. The woman does.

Across the world, officials look at falling birth rates and ask a larger version of the same question. Who will work when the present workforce retires? Who will support older people? The worry is real, but the question can quietly turn a woman's private decision into a public obligation.

A 2021 television commentary presented falling fertility as an era in which women were “opting out.” It cited South Korea, China, India and the United States, then asked whether governments could expect women to replace their populations. Its final question was sharper than much of its evidence. The issue deserves another look in 2026, because a falling birth rate cannot tell us whether someone freely chose a smaller family or could not have the family they wanted.

What the number actually measures

The United Nations' 2024 population projections put the global total fertility rate at 2.25 births per woman, down from 3.31 in 1990. Total fertility rate is an estimate based on the birth rates observed at different ages in a given period. It does not count what each individual woman has had, or what she must have.

The familiar replacement level of roughly 2.1 is also a population measure. In a low-mortality society without migration, a rate around that level would, over time, allow one generation to replace another. It is no instruction to every household. Nor does a country immediately lose population the day its fertility rate slips below 2.1. Age structure, life expectancy and migration still matter.

The UN estimates that more than half of countries and areas were already below 2.1 in 2024. Yet its central projection still has the world's population rising from 8.2 billion in 2024 to a peak around 10.3 billion in the mid-2080s. A global average conceals very different national paths. It also cannot explain why people have fewer children.

Consider South Korea. The UN placed fertility there and in Hong Kong below 0.75 in 2024. A figure that low raises hard questions about future schools, pensions and care for older people. Still, calling it evidence that women have rejected motherhood would read a motive into a statistic. We need to ask what people wanted, what they could afford and who would do the unpaid work once a child arrived.

A decision and an obstacle are different things

The United Nations Population Fund's 2025 report asked people in 14 countries about their family aspirations. Nearly one in five reproductive-age respondents believed they would be unable to have the number of children they desired. Thirty-nine percent said financial limits had affected, or would affect, their ability to reach their desired family size. The survey covers countries that together account for more than a third of the world's population; its results should not be treated as a precise census of every person on earth.

Those findings complicate the phrase “opting out.” Someone may want no children and have the means to follow that wish. Another may want two but stop at one after losing a job. A third may face infertility, poor access to care or no suitable partner. They may all appear in a fertility chart as fewer births. Their experiences call for different responses.

The United States offers a useful check against an equally simple claim that nobody wants children anymore. In a 2024 Pew Research Center survey, 57% of adults under 50 without children who said they were unlikely ever to have them named “just don't want to” as a major reason. Thirty-six percent named the cost of raising a child. Respondents could give more than one reason, and the sample was a specific group of Americans, not all young adults or all women worldwide.

Both answers matter. Respecting someone who does not want a child need not mean ignoring someone who cannot afford one. A good policy must leave room for each. If officials announce a cash payment and births still fall, the result does not prove young people are selfish. The payment may be too small, or the problem may lie elsewhere. If births rise, that alone does not prove parents gained more freedom.

I think of the ordinary arithmetic behind a family decision. A couple may be able to pay for a baby's first year while fearing the next eighteen. Housing, reliable income and the ability to take time away from work change the calculation. So does the expectation that one parent will abandon a career or absorb most of the care at home. In many places that parent is still the mother. The balance is an argument about institutions, not women's character.

Pakistan asks the question from another direction

Pakistan makes an essential contrast. Its 2023 census counted about 241.5 million people. Public debate here often worries about rapid growth and the pressure it puts on schools, housing and health services. Elsewhere, governments worry about too few births. The slogans point in opposite directions, but either can override a person's wishes if the state treats women as instruments of a population target.

At the launch of its 2025 report in Pakistan, UNFPA said only one in three women could make decisions about their reproductive health. It reported that 32% of married women aged 15–49 used modern contraception and that more than 16% had an unmet need for family planning. These are measures of access and autonomy, not a call to impose a particular family size.

That distinction matters in a city like Karachi. A woman who wants to delay a pregnancy needs trustworthy information and services she can reach without pressure. A woman who wants a child needs safe maternal care. If a family wants fewer children, its decision deserves respect; if it wants more, that decision deserves respect too. Neither a national growth target nor a lecture from a relative should make the choice for them.

The debate also places too much responsibility on women while giving men too little to do. A father's share of daily care, an employer's treatment of parents and the quality of public services can alter the real cost of raising a child. Those are practical conditions. They will not change because a politician calls motherhood patriotic or a commentator calls childlessness selfish.

What a serious response would test

Governments should start by listening to people whose plans and outcomes differ. How many wanted children but could not have them? How many had a pregnancy earlier than they intended? How many freely prefer no children? A fertility rate by itself answers none of these questions. Surveys also need careful wording, because a wish expressed today may change with age, income or a relationship.

Next comes the work of removing obstacles people actually identify. UNFPA recommends affordable housing, decent work, parental leave and access to reproductive health services. The details must fit each country. A childcare service that exists on paper but closes before parents finish work will solve little. Leave that employees fear taking may be just as ineffective. In Pakistan, access to contraception and respectful maternity care belongs in the same discussion as household income.

Low-fertility countries also need plans for ageing that do not depend entirely on a sudden baby boom. Children born today will not join the workforce tomorrow. Governments can examine productivity, employment, migration and the design of pensions and care. Each choice has costs and political limits. Pretending that a higher birth rate alone will repair every institution delays those decisions.

There is a test I would put to any proposal: does it help a person follow a considered choice, or does it push that person toward the number the government wants? Subsidised childcare can help parents who want children. Reliable contraception can help people avoid a pregnancy they do not want. Better medical care can serve both goals. Their common measure is agency, even if they move a national fertility rate in different directions.

Back in Karachi, the question at the family table can sound affectionate. It can also carry a heavy expectation. A statistic cannot hear the difference. Public policy should try harder than the statistic: ask people what kind of family they want, notice what stands in their way, and leave the final answer with them.