How long can a human really live?

Artificial Intelligence is transforming the world at an unprecedented pace. From healthcare and agriculture to finance, education, and manufacturing, AI is changing how people work, learn, and solve problems. Countries across the globe are redesigning their education systems to prepare students for a technology-driven future. They are investing in coding, robotics, digital literacy, critical thinking, and innovation. Outdated Curriculum, Untrained Teachers, and Obsolete Classrooms Are Holding Back the Nation’s Future Pakistan, however, appears to be moving at a much slower pace. While developed nations are preparing children for careers that may not even exist today, millions of Pakistani students continue to study from outdated textbooks, rely on rote memorization, and learn in classrooms equipped with little more than blackboards and chalk. This growing disconnect raises an important question: How can Pakistan expect its youth to compete globally when they are being educated with a curriculum designed for the past? Education is the engine of economic growth and national development. Every successful nation has built its progress on a strong education system that evolves with changing times. Unfortunately, Pakistan’s school curriculum has not kept pace with technological advancement or the demands of the modern labour market. Although some reforms have been introduced over the years, many textbooks still contain outdated examples, obsolete concepts, and teaching methods that fail to develop analytical thinking and creativity. The world no longer rewards students simply for memorizing information. Search engines and AI can provide facts within seconds. What employers increasingly value are skills that machines cannot easily replace critical thinking, creativity, communication, collaboration, leadership, emotional intelligence, and the ability to solve complex problems. Yet our examination system still rewards memorization more than understanding. One of the biggest weaknesses of Pakistan’s education system is the gap between classroom learning and market needs. Universities and employers frequently complain that graduates lack practical knowledge and workplace skills. Many young people spend years earning degrees only to discover they are not prepared for modern careers. This mismatch contributes to unemployment despite rising educational qualifications. School curricula should therefore be redesigned around future skills. Coding, artificial intelligence, robotics, data literacy, entrepreneurship, financial education, climate science, environmental sustainability, cybersecurity, and digital citizenship should become part of mainstream education. These are no longer luxury subjects reserved for elite schools; they are becoming basic requirements for the global economy. Equally important is the way children are taught. Modern education encourages students to ask questions, conduct experiments, work in teams, debate ideas, and solve real-life problems. Unfortunately, many Pakistani classrooms continue to rely on one-way lectures where students quietly copy notes from the blackboard. Such methods may help children pass examinations, but they do little to prepare them for innovation or leadership. This is why teacher training deserves urgent national attention. Teachers cannot be expected to teach twenty-first-century skills using twentieth-century training. Continuous professional development should become mandatory for all teachers. They should receive regular training in digital learning, classroom technology, student-centred teaching, project-based learning, and modern assessment methods. A well-trained teacher can transform even a modest classroom, while an untrained teacher may struggle despite having excellent textbooks. Technology must also become an integral part of learning. Around the world, interactive digital boards, multimedia presentations, educational software, virtual laboratories, and online learning platforms are making classrooms more engaging and effective. In contrast, many government schools in Pakistan still depend on blackboards, chalk, and outdated teaching aids. There is nothing inherently wrong with blackboards they have educated generations of students. However, they cannot be the only teaching tool in an era when digital technology dominates every profession. Students who have never interacted with computers, digital content, or smart classrooms are already at a disadvantage before they enter higher education or the job market. Modernizing classrooms does not necessarily require replacing every blackboard overnight. Pakistan can adopt a phased approach. Schools should first be provided with reliable electricity, internet connectivity where possible, projectors, computers, and digital learning resources. Low-cost technology can significantly improve learning outcomes if combined with trained teachers and updated curricula. Education must also become more relevant to Pakistan’s own challenges. Students should learn about water scarcity, climate change, renewable energy, sustainable agriculture, disaster management, public health, financial planning, and responsible citizenship. Such knowledge not only strengthens the economy but also helps communities solve local problems. The government must increase investment in education. For many years, Pakistan has allocated a relatively small share of its national resources to education compared with what experts recommend for developing countries. Without sustained investment in schools, teacher development, educational technology, and curriculum reform, meaningful progress will remain difficult. Parents, educators, policymakers, universities, and the private sector all have a role to play. Education should not be shaped solely by examination boards. Industry leaders, technology experts, researchers, and experienced teachers should contribute to curriculum development so that what children learn reflects the realities of today’s world. Pakistan’s greatest resource is not its minerals or natural wealth, it is its young population. Millions of talented children possess the intelligence, curiosity, and determination to succeed. What they need is an education system that unlocks their potential instead of limiting it. Artificial Intelligence will reshape every sector of society during the coming decades. Countries that prepare their children today will lead tomorrow’s global economy. Those that continue teaching outdated syllabi will struggle to keep pace. The choice before Pakistan is clear. We can continue relying on obsolete textbooks, examination-driven learning, blackboards, and chalk while the rest of the world embraces AI and digital innovation. Or we can modernize our curriculum, invest in teachers, equip classrooms with appropriate technology, and prepare our children for the future. The future cannot be built with yesterday’s education. If Pakistan truly wants its youth to compete on the global stage, the time to reform our schools is not tomorrow it is today.

By Engineer Arshad H Abbasi, ahabasi@gmail.com, edited by Engineer Musa Arshad H Abbasi I write this from Islamabad, not as a diplomat or a historian, but as someone who spends his working life measuring rivers, glaciers, and energy systems — and who has spent the last year watching the instruments of my own profession become instruments of geopolitics instead. I am a water, energy and climate professional, not an expert in international relations. But you do not need a doctorate in strategic studies to feel what it means to live in a capital that sits within reach of two active fronts at once, and to watch a third, farther away, threaten the fuel that keeps my own country’s lights on. To the east, the Indus itself has become a weapon in a dispute I once only studied on paper. Since April 23, 2025, one day after the Pahalgam attack killed 26 people in Jammu and Kashmir, India has held the 1960 Indus Waters Treaty in abeyance, and as recently as July 3, 2026, New Delhi reaffirmed the suspension will continue until Pakistan “credibly and irrevocably” ends cross-border terrorism. Pakistan calls any interruption of that water an act of war. I measure river flows for a living, and I can tell you that a treaty which survived two wars and decades of hostility between 1960 and 2025 was never really about engineering — it was about restraint. Watching that restraint erode between two nuclear-armed neighbors, over a river that irrigates the fields I grew up walking beside, is not an abstraction to me. It is personal. To the west, the war that began on February 28, 2026 between the United States, Israel, and Iran has turned the Strait of Hormuz — the channel that once carried roughly a quarter of the world’s seaborne oil and a fifth of its LNG — into a contested chokepoint. Iranian forces have mined and attacked shipping there on and off for months; a ceasefire and a June memorandum of understanding collapsed in July when Iran resumed strikes on vessels it deemed noncompliant. Even now, in mid-August, Tehran and Oman are still negotiating the terms under which the strait might fully reopen. Every Pakistani household that has watched fuel prices swing this year has felt that war, even though it is being fought a thousand miles from here. And Pakistan’s own western border is no longer a metaphor for instability — it is an active one. Since February 2026, Pakistan and Afghanistan have fought what both sides’ own defense ministries have called open war along the 1893 Durand Line, with Pakistani airstrikes on Nangarhar and Kabul, an Afghan cross-border offensive, and casualty claims running into the hundreds on each side before Qatar- and Turkey-mediated pauses briefly held. I know these are not the only fires burning on this continent, and an honest accounting has to look past South Asia. In Southeast Asia, a century-old dispute between Thailand and Cambodia over the ancient temples of Preah Vihear and Ta Muen Thom erupted twice in 2025 — first in July, then again in December — leaving at least 101 people dead and forcing more than half a million civilians from their homes before a fragile ceasefire, signed December 27, brought an uneasy calm. In East Asia, the map is a thicket of overlapping claims: China and Taiwan over the island’s sovereignty itself; China and Japan over the Senkaku/Diaoyu islands in the East China Sea; China and the Philippines over Scarborough Shoal and reefs across the South China Sea; and Japan and its neighbors over a scattering of other contested waters that keep regional navies on constant alert. Indonesia and Malaysia, too, carry an unresolved history — the armed 1960s Konfrontasi and a maritime boundary dispute over the oil-rich Ambalat block in the Sulawesi Sea that periodically flares even between otherwise friendly neighbors. And running beneath all of it is the oldest fault line of all: the decades-long conflict between Israel and its Arab neighbors, still reshaping alliances and battlefields from Gaza to Lebanon to Yemen, where Houthi strikes on Saudi infrastructure continue even this month. Set against all of that, look at Central Asia — building transit corridors instead of trench lines, settling water and border disputes through negotiation rather than force, and courting the same investors that war has driven away from South Asia, the Gulf, and the South China Sea. Even the Armenia-Azerbaijan peace process next door, however unfinished — initialed in Washington in August 2025, still unsigned a year later over Armenia’s constitutional language — has produced something rarer than victory: an actual framework both sides keep returning to, rather than abandoning for the battlefield. While I want to avoid romanticizing Central Asia to those who know the region far better than I do, it stands as a compelling model for peace. The region offers a practical demonstration that Asian states can prioritize economic integration over territorial reflexes—a choice that others, from Islamabad to Phnom Penh to Manila, have yet to make. The Ledger of Conflict: A Continent Still at War With Itself It is worth setting all of this down in one place, because scattered across a dozen news cycles it is easy to lose the scale of it. India–Pakistan, Kashmir and the Indus Waters Treaty. Held in abeyance since April 23, 2025; reaffirmed as of July 2026 to remain suspended until Pakistan “irrevocably” ends cross-border terrorism, in a dispute that touches the water security of more than 300 million people and involves two nuclear-armed states that have already fought a war in 2025. Iran, Israel, and the United States. War since February 28, 2026, with Iranian attacks on shipping through the Strait of Hormuz — a corridor carrying roughly a quarter of the world’s seaborne oil and a fifth of its LNG — still unresolved as Tehran and Oman negotiate terms for reopening it, even this month. Pakistan–Afghanistan, the Durand Line. Open war since February 2026 between two governments that have never

Pakistan presents a distinct demographic profile in the 21st century. According to the Pakistan Bureau of Statistics and UNFPA, 64% of the population is under the age of 30, with a median age of 20.8 years. This structure situates Pakistan within the category of youth-majority states. Consequently, an analysis of contemporary Pakistan is inseparable from an analysis of Generation Z, defined as individuals born approximately between 1997 and 2012. This cohort is not a prospective entity. It constitutes the current labor force, consumer base, and increasingly, the primary agents of cultural and economic production. The characteristics of Pakistani Gen Z can be understood through three interrelated dimensions: adaptability, initiative, and connectivity. The first dimension is adaptability coupled with digital fluency. This generation represents the first cohort in Pakistan to mature entirely within a digital ecosystem. DataReportal’s 2026 report indicates 111 million internet users and 71.1 million social media users in Pakistan, with internet penetration at 48.5%. The primary mode of access remains mobile broadband, which has effectively decentralized information and opportunity. This environment has cultivated rapid skill acquisition. The ability to learn and deploy new tools is reflected in economic outcomes. Pakistan currently ranks 4th globally in freelance earnings on platforms such as Upwork and Fiverr. Estimated annual freelance exports exceed $400 million. This phenomenon, often termed “digital remittances,” enables participation in the global economy without physical migration. The geographic implications are significant: a software developer in Peshawar, a content creator in Multan, and a designer in Lahore operate within the same digital marketplace, competing on skill rather than location. The second dimension is initiative and entrepreneurial orientation. In response to structural constraints in traditional employment, Gen Z has demonstrated a marked propensity toward self-directed economic activity. Data from the State Bank of Pakistan indicates a rising proportion of SME financing directed to individuals under 35. This is manifested in the proliferation of micro-enterprises, including e-commerce ventures, content creation channels, and home-based businesses. The underlying logic is one of experimentation and iteration: initiate at a small scale, acquire feedback, and scale operations. Importantly, this trend is not confined to metropolitan areas. Digital platforms have reduced barriers to market entry for individuals in Gilgit, Quetta, and rural Sindh, enabling access to national and international consumers. A craftswoman in interior Sindh can, through social commerce, reach buyers in Karachi and Dubai. This represents a structural shift in how economic value is created and distributed. The third dimension is connectivity and civic awareness. Pakistani Gen Z is the most interconnected generation in the nation’s history. Multilingualism is normative, with Urdu, English, and regional languages such as Punjabi, Sindhi, Pashto, and Balochi used fluidly. This linguistic dexterity mirrors a broader cultural orientation that is simultaneously local and global. This connectivity correlates with heightened awareness of social and global issues. During the 2022 floods, youth networks coordinated relief, fundraising, and volunteer mobilization within hours, utilizing WhatsApp, Facebook, and other platforms. The same infrastructure is used for peer-to-peer learning, dissemination of job opportunities, and advocacy around public health and education. Surveys by Gallup Pakistan and various youth organizations indicate participation rates in volunteerism among 18-30 year olds are substantially higher than in previous cohorts. Beyond present attributes, it is critical to articulate the vision of Pakistan held by this generation. Based on available survey data, academic research, and observable behavior, three core elements emerge. The first element is a vision of inclusive economic participation. Gen Z conceptualizes economic contribution beyond formal employment. The priority is productivity, skill utilization, and value creation. Key sectors of engagement include information technology, freelancing, e-commerce, EdTech, AgriTech, and creative industries. There is also a measurable increase in female participation. PBS data indicates that women constitute approximately 30% of registered freelancers, reflecting both economic necessity and changing social norms. The overarching goal is to convert Pakistan’s demographic dividend into tangible economic output. The second element is a vision of competency-based development. This cohort places primacy on skills, portfolios, and demonstrable output over credentials alone. There is growing demand for vocational training, digital literacy, artificial intelligence tools, and communication competencies. The emerging model is decentralized: one individual acquires a skill and disseminates it within their network. This peer-learning architecture has the potential to address gaps in formal education through non-formal channels. The third element is a vision of contributory citizenship. Gen Z associates nation-building with direct action. This includes environmental initiatives such as tree plantation, public health campaigns such as blood donation, and educational outreach in underserved areas. The conception of patriotism is thus operationalized. It is expressed not only through symbolic observance on 14th August, but through sustained engagement in community development. The narrative of 1947 is understood as securing independence. The narrative of 2026, from this perspective, is about deploying that independence toward institutional and social strengthening. Pakistan’s strategic advantage lies in this human capital. The generation is characterized by adaptability, enterprise, and networked awareness. The realization of this potential is contingent on the alignment of opportunities in skills development, digital infrastructure, and platforms for civic engagement. The trajectory of Pakistan will be determined in classrooms, in digital workspaces, in small enterprises, and in the aggregate of individual decisions made by over 110 million young citizens. With continued emphasis on learning, collaboration, and productive engagement, Gen Z possesses the capacity to advance national development objectives. This is their Pakistan, and the process of building it is already underway.

By Qashf Aizdi Justice delayed is justice denied. This phrase has become almost cliché in Pakistan and it unfortunately remains painfully true for millions of litigants who are waiting for their day in court. Every year hundreds of new cases are filed while thousands remain undecided and as a result courtrooms continue to grow more congested and hearings become more infrequent. The unfortunate consequence is that justice moves further out of reach. Time is perhaps the only thing Pakistan’s justice system can no longer afford to lose. The scale of the crisis is reflected in the numbers. According to the Judicial Statistics of Pakistan 2023, more than 2.25 million cases remain pending before courts of Pakistan. During the same year, 4.48 million new cases were instituted while 4.41 million were disposed of, resulting in a 5 percent increase in the overall backlog. The district judiciary alone accounts for 82 percent of all pending cases. With just over 3,100 working judges and judicial officers, each is responsible for more than 700 pending cases, even before accounting for the thousands of new cases filed every year. These figures do not suggest that Pakistan’s judges are idle; rather, they point to a justice system struggling to keep pace with an ever-growing caseload. Civil disputes in Pakistan can often take 10 to 15 years and in some instances even longer, before reaching its conclusion. Court proceedings are routinely delayed by repeated adjournments, cumbersome procedures, paper-based case management and multiple tiers of appeal. Difficulties in serving notices, delays in recording evidence and frequent adjournment requests often leave litigants waiting months before their cases are heard again. Additionally, the consequences of delayed justice extend beyond the courtroom. By the time a case is finally decided, litigants find themselves in a morass of mounting legal costs, lost opportunities and prolonged uncertainty. Every adjournment adds to the financial and emotional burden borne by litigants. A favorable judgment delivered after years of litigation can never fully restore the time, financial stability or peace of mind that has already been obliterated. Article 37(d) of the Constitution of Pakistan obliges the State to ensure inexpensive and expeditious justice. Yet, for many litigants, this constitutional promise often rings hollow. As mounting caseloads continue to overwhelm the judiciary, lengthy delays have become an accepted and vexatious feature of the legal system rather than an exception. Justice that arrives years too late often fails to provide meaningful relief. The immediate explanation is ostensibly straightforward; the number of judges is insufficient to handle the growing caseload. Pakistan has one of the lowest judge-to-population ratios in the region, leaving judges responsible for hundreds and often thousands of matters. Yet the shortage of judges tells only part of the story. Addressing this crisis requires more than appointing additional judges; it demands a more comprehensive approach to resolving disputes. One such reform lies in the greater use of Alternative Dispute Resolution (ADR). Cases can be resolved out of court using processes like mediation and arbitration, whereby judges can focus on cases which require formal adjudication. Consequently, ADR works in conjunction with the courts in solving disputes outside of court. The potential of ADR is perhaps best illustrated by the Morgah Valley dispute. Despite taking over 42 years to be settled via litigation, the same case took only two months to settle after being referred to mediation. Though not all disputes are suitable for mediation, this case is an example of the value that comes with the application of ADR at the right time. More importantly, it shows that timely justice is not an impossible ideal but an achievable one when the right mechanisms are used. However, for countless litigants, delay remains the norm as the judiciary continues to grapple with overwhelming caseloads. Repeated adjournments leave litigants facing prolonged uncertainty and growing frustration. Cases pass from one generation to the next and some litigants never live to see the final outcome of disputes they initiated and fought for. Justice should not become an inheritance passed from parents to children. The longer that reform is postponed, the greater the cost to litigants, businesses and public confidence. Pakistan’s courts are running out of time and so are the people waiting for justice. If Pakistan is serious about fulfilling the constitutional vision embodied in Article 37(d) of the Constitution, reducing judicial delays can no longer remain an aspiration, it must become a national priority. Reforming the justice system will require efficient case management, greater use of appropriate dispute resolution mechanisms and a collective commitment to ensuring that justice is delivered when it is needed most. Until then, Pakistan’s courts will continue to run out of the one resource they cannot recover: time.  

The previous part VIII of this series concluded that a just tax system must satisfy more than the requirements of arithmetic. It must rest upon legislative competence, representative consent, rational classification, due process, protection against arbitrary deprivation, transparent expenditure and effective remedies. Parliament, while levying taxes cannot constitutionalise injustice merely by enacting it. Pakistan’s fiscal crisis will not be resolved by asking citizens to finance an unreformed state through increasingly coercive instruments. A recent book by Dr Hafiz A. Pasha, Fatima Malik and Hafsa Tanveer, Pakistan: Reforming an Inefficient and Inequitable Tax System, provides an appropriate opportunity to carry that argument forward. The volume is ambitious, data-rich and deserving of serious attention. Few recent studies attempt, within a single work, to map federal and provincial taxation, estimate tax gaps through different methodologies, examine incidence across income groups and sectors, evaluate fiscal incentives and finally present a quantified reform programme. Its central diagnosis is familiar but supported by extensive empirical work. Pakistan combines high statutory rates with a low tax-to-GDP ratio, excessive dependence on indirect taxation, pervasive evasion, severe sectoral disparities and weak provincial revenue mobilisation. The authors propose reforms that, in their estimation, can increase the national tax-to-GDP ratio by approximately three percentage points by 2027–28. The principal difficulty lies not in what the book measures. It lies in what the framework of measurement necessarily leaves outside its calculations. The usefulness—and limits—of the tax-gap lens The organising idea of the book is the tax gap. Through cross-country regressions, a representative-tax-system approach, monetary estimates of evasion and bottom-up calculations, the authors conclude that Pakistan possesses the potential to collect approximately three percent of GDP more in taxes. This is analytically valuable. It also risks converting a constitutional and political problem into an accounting exercise. A tax gap is not necessarily a reservoir of revenue waiting to be collected. Parts of it may reflect privileges protected by influential groups. Other parts arise from low productivity, fragmented enterprises, unemployment, weak financial inclusion and the regulatory costs created by the state itself. Informality is not always a voluntary choice made for the purpose of evasion; it can also be a survival strategy in an economy where formalisation invites multiple taxes, withholding obligations, inspections and compliance costs without ensuring reliable public services. Citizens also judge taxation in relation to expenditure. Their reluctance cannot be understood solely as non-compliance when additional revenue appears likely to finance debt servicing, administrative expansion, elite concessions, loss-making state enterprises and politically negotiated subsidies rather than education, healthcare, transport, security of property and equal economic opportunity. The decisive question is consequently not only how much more can be collected. It is who controls the state, who bears its burdens, who receives its rents, and why technically sound reforms repeatedly fail. Public finance asks how the gap should be closed. Constitutional Political Economy asks why the beneficiaries of the existing arrangement would permit it to be closed fairly. The selective fiscal state The book repeatedly recognises the presence of powerful vested interests. It identifies the under-taxation of property, agriculture, wholesale and retail trade, real estate and parts of the services sector. At the same time, it finds a disproportionate burden upon large-scale manufacturing, banking and formal businesses. Its estimate that industry bears taxes equivalent to 23.8 percent of its value added, with the incidence on large-scale manufacturing exceeding 36 percent, is particularly revealing. These figures demonstrate that Pakistan does not suffer from a uniformly low-tax equilibrium. Pakistan has created a selective fiscal state: coercive towards visible and organised taxpayers, accommodating towards politically protected or administratively difficult constituencies. This conclusion should change the design of reform. Where political influence determines the tax structure, another catalogue of proposed rates and bases cannot alter the equilibrium by itself. Reform must address the rules through which fiscal choices are made, concessions are granted and enforcement is selectively applied. A technically perfect proposal remains politically irrelevant when those who must enact it derive power from the arrangements it seeks to dismantle. Withholdingisation is not income taxation The book correctly notes that withholding and advance taxes generate overwhelming part of total income-tax revenue and have failed to eliminate evasion. It also recognises the distortions created by presumptive/mimum taxation and the fragmentation of income into separately taxed blocs. The consequences are more serious than those of an imperfect collection technique. Withholdingisation represents the gradual abandonment of income taxation as a levy on net accretion to economic power. Banks, utility companies, telecom operators, employers, import authorities, registrars and purchasers have been converted into unpaid tax collectors. Gross transactions are taxed without determining actual income, allowable expenditure, losses or the taxpayer’s real capacity to contribute. The revenue authority obtains money without developing the institutional capacity to examine accounts, conduct intelligent audits and establish taxable income. Compliant businesses suffer liquidity costs and wait for adjustments or refunds, while informal and influential sectors remain beyond meaningful assessment. The reform of income taxation must restore the return, assessment and audit as its foundations. Withholding should remain confined to situations where it is a genuine advance payment—principally salaries, dividends, profit on debt and payments to non-residents (mostly covered under tax treaties). It should remain fully adjustable against the final liability. A system based upon extracting money from every visible transaction may achieve collection targets. It cannot be described as a coherent income tax. Contradictions within the reform programme The book advocates broad-basing and criticises presumptive taxation, but later recommends restoration of a one-percent fixed tax on export proceeds. It supports neutrality while proposing a general five-year tax holiday for investment, enhanced deductions for energy costs and other selective allowances. These proposals arise from genuine concerns. Pakistan’s investment rate remains dangerously low, exporters face high energy and financing costs, and industry competes under an unstable exchange-rate and tariff environment. The proposed remedies nevertheless risk recreating the same exceptionalism that has made Pakistan’s tax system discriminatory, unpredictable and vulnerable to lobbying. A fixed tax on export proceeds is not a tax on income. It taxes turnover

“Algorithms may shape what people see today, but literature shapes how people think for a lifetime.” The rise of social media has transformed the way people consume information. We live in an era where a thirty-second reel competes with a three-hundred-page novel, where trending hashtags often outweigh thoughtful essays, and where algorithms decide what deserves our attention. This raises an important question: Can progressive literature still challenge power when social media shapes public opinion? The answer is neither a simple yes nor a complete no. Literature continues to possess immense transformative power, but it is fighting one of the greatest battles in its history—the battle against shrinking attention spans. One of literature’s greatest strengths has always been its ability to cultivate critical thinking. Reading a novel demands patience, concentration, and reflection. It invites readers to analyze characters, question motives, and understand complex social realities. Social media, on the other hand, thrives on instant reactions. The modern reader often feels satisfied after reading a motivational quote or a poetic couplet without ever exploring the context from which it emerged. Detached from its original setting, even the most profound literary expression risks becoming a decorative caption rather than a source of intellectual inquiry. History demonstrates that great literature has consistently challenged injustice, authoritarianism, and inequality. Thomas Hardy’s Tess of the d’Urbervilles exposed the double standards imposed on women. Shakespeare’s Macbeth examined the corrupting nature of unchecked ambition and political power. Harper Lee’s To Kill a Mockingbird confronted racial prejudice and moral courage. Such works continue to influence readers because they ask uncomfortable questions rather than offering convenient answers. Yet literature can only cultivate empathy when people are willing to read it patiently. This is where today’s educational culture faces a serious challenge. Even in universities, many teachers and students struggle to engage deeply with demanding literary texts. Grim, thought-provoking works are often replaced by summaries, lecture notes, or online interpretations. Literature requires time, but time has become one of the rarest commodities in the digital age. Books possess another quality that social media rarely offers: permanence. Viral trends dominate public conversation for days or weeks before disappearing into digital archives. A literary masterpiece, however, survives generations. Unfortunately, artificial intelligence-generated videos, short-form content, and endless scrolling have conditioned younger audiences to seek immediate stimulation. Generation Z—and those who follow—are growing up in an environment where visual consumption often replaces sustained reading. Progressive writers themselves are adapting to survive. Many now rely on digital platforms to reach global audiences. While this democratizes publishing, it also creates new pressures. Writers increasingly compete for clicks and shares, sometimes feeling compelled to produce catchy content rather than the work that genuinely reflects their intellectual convictions. Algorithms reward popularity, not necessarily depth. Nevertheless, literature continues to preserve historical memory and challenge social conformity. George Orwell warned of surveillance and manipulation long before digital technology made these concerns commonplace. Faiz Ahmed Faiz transformed poetry into a language of resistance. Saadat Hasan Manto exposed the brutal realities hidden beneath political narratives. Margaret Atwood’s dystopian fiction continues to provoke debates about gender, freedom, and authoritarianism. These writers remain influential precisely because their works transcend the circumstances in which they were written. Literature also performs a vital democratic function. It encourages readers to question dominant narratives instead of accepting them uncritically. Schools and universities continue to include literary works because they nurture ethical reasoning, citizenship, and cultural understanding. Whether students fully engage with these texts is another matter, but their presence in education reflects literature’s enduring significance. The greatest challenge, however, comes from algorithms. Social media shapes public opinion at extraordinary speed. Algorithms determine what users encounter, often limiting exposure to ideas that challenge existing beliefs. It is increasingly common to see a profound Urdu couplet reduced to background audio for a dance reel or accompanied by music that completely undermines its emotional depth. Many users enthusiastically share literary quotations without understanding their meaning or historical context. Short-form content has also affected language itself. Many students today possess increasingly limited vocabularies because they consume fragments rather than complete narratives. Their writing often prioritizes dramatic impact over clarity of expression. Instead of communicating ideas effectively, they strive to sound impressive, frequently sacrificing substance for style. Equally concerning is the growing influence of digital personalities over intellectual voices. Influencers often shape public discourse more effectively than authors, academics, or historians. Gossip frequently attracts millions of viewers, while thoughtful literary discussions struggle to reach even a fraction of that audience. This imbalance contributes to a gradual intellectual decline, where entertainment overshadows enlightenment. Sensational content spreads faster than thoughtful reflection. A striking example can be found in recent online discussions surrounding The Odyssey. Countless viewers passionately debated Agamemnon’s costume in film adaptations while remaining unfamiliar with who Agamemnon actually was. To many, he was simply “that dude in the movie.” The visual spectacle overshadowed the literary and historical significance of one of the foundational figures of classical literature. Yet social media should not be viewed solely as the enemy of literature. Used responsibly, it can amplify literary voices rather than replace them. Dedicated educators, book reviewers, and literature enthusiasts continue to produce remarkable digital content that introduces audiences to great works of literature. Unfortunately, such platforms often attract only modest followings, while trivial controversies and celebrity gossip dominate public attention. The issue, therefore, is not technology itself but the values that shape our digital culture. Perhaps the real debate is not between literature and algorithms but between wisdom and speed. Speed and uncertainty too, one moment we struggle to understand an AI built half episode of a classic lit and the next reel is about cooking something you love eating, obviously the content is half posted. You are left struggling what to search next, a remaining food recipe or the end of tragedy… Algorithms excel at predicting what we are likely to click next. Literature invites us to ask why we think the way we do. Algorithms personalize information; literature broadens perspective. One seeks engagement,