watches workplace watchdogs

Who Watches the Workplace Watchdogs?

Pakistan has a peculiar relationship with workplace merit.

We talk about it constantly.

Government departments are criticised for delaying promotions. Corporations are questioned over favouritism. Universities are urged to reward academic performance. Employers are told to retain talent. Media organisations routinely expose nepotism, extensions, political appointments and institutional injustice.

But there is a question that is rarely asked:

Do the organisations making these arguments follow the same standards inside their own walls?

The question is particularly relevant to Pakistan’s media industry.

Newspapers and television channels have considerable influence over how society understands fairness at work. They report on workers denied promotions, bureaucrats given extensions, senior officials superseded and institutions accused of favouritism.

But journalism cannot demand accountability from everyone else while exempting itself from scrutiny.

That is where the conversation around employee retention, promotions and extensions becomes uncomfortable.

The Extension That Blocks an Entire Career Ladder

In any hierarchical organisation, one senior position can determine the careers of dozens of people below it.

When a person occupying a senior position retires, the organisation has several choices.

It can promote someone from within.

It can recruit externally.

It can restructure the position.

Or, where there is a genuine institutional requirement, it can retain the individual for a defined period.

The problem begins when an exception becomes a culture.

A six-month extension becomes another year.

A temporary arrangement becomes a permanent arrangement.

A retired employee is brought back.

Another extension follows.

Meanwhile, people below continue waiting.

For them, the issue is not merely that someone has been allowed to continue working.

It is that their own careers may have been placed on hold to accommodate someone else’s continued career.

That distinction is often ignored in Pakistan.

Even Dawn Has Written About This Problem

Dawn itself has been among the publications highlighting the damage caused by prolonged temporary arrangements.

In a May 2026 editorial titled “Ad hoc culture,” Dawn criticised the practice of keeping people in higher positions through prolonged temporary arrangements, noting that such practices can leave employees without formal promotion, financial benefits or recognition of seniority. It specifically highlighted the frustration of employees whose seniority is bypassed.

That position is difficult to disagree with.

In fact, it is precisely the position that responsible journalism should take.

But it also raises a more uncomfortable question:

What happens when the same principles are applied to the media organisations themselves?

The Dawn Question

Dawn has long presented itself as an institution committed to professional journalism, institutional accountability and workers’ rights.

Its pages have repeatedly carried arguments in favour of merit-based promotions and against prolonged ad-hoc arrangements.

A January 2026 Dawn editorial page contribution on academic promotions, for example, argued that delayed promotions erode meritocracy, demotivate employees and can drive talented professionals towards private institutions or overseas opportunities.

In another recent editorial, Dawn argued that prolonged temporary arrangements can stagnate careers and deprive employees of financial progression and recognition.

These are sound principles.

But principles become meaningful only when they are applied consistently.

And this is where, based on my own knowledge of the organisation, an uncomfortable contradiction deserves examination.

Dawn’s senior management structure has itself seen prolonged extensions, while retired managers have, according to my knowledge, been brought back into employment in Lahore and elsewhere.

That raises a straightforward question:

If retaining retired or extended senior personnel is justified by institutional necessity, why should the same practice be criticised when governments or other organisations do it?

And if prolonged extensions are capable of blocking the careers of younger employees in government departments, why would the principle suddenly cease to apply inside a media organisation?

This is not an argument against experience.

Nor is it an argument that every retired employee should automatically be removed.

Experience has value.

Institutional memory has value.

A highly experienced editor or manager can be extremely difficult to replace.

But institutional value cannot become a permanent justification for blocking succession.

Fifteen Years Is a Long Time in Any Profession

The question becomes even more significant when a senior position remains occupied for an exceptionally long period.

From my own knowledge of Dawn, its editor has remained in the position for nearly 15 years through extensions.

Again, the question is not whether an individual is competent.

The question is whether an institution that advocates professional advancement should also have a mechanism for developing and promoting the next generation of leadership.

Fifteen years is enough time for an entire generation of journalists to enter an organisation, build careers, become senior reporters, become editors and eventually expect to take on greater responsibility.

If the top positions remain occupied indefinitely, where does that generation go?

There is a very real distinction between retaining talent and preventing succession.

A healthy institution must know the difference.

The Supreme Court Has Now Entered This Conversation

This is no longer merely an HR theory.

Pakistan’s Supreme Court has recently addressed the issue in remarkably strong terms.

In January 2026, the court ruled that government departments could not use administrative inefficiency and procedural delays as an excuse for denying employees timely consideration for promotion. It held that promotion is connected to merit, performance and operational requirements, and said employees should not suffer because a department failed to convene promotion committees or relied excessively on acting arrangements.

Four months later, in May 2026, the Supreme Court went further.

It held that prolonged ad-hoc, look-after, current-charge, acting-charge and additional-charge arrangements can amount to exploitation. The case involved a Pakistan Railways employee who had performed duties of a higher post for nearly eight years before receiving regular promotion.

The court’s reasoning is important because it moves the debate beyond bureaucratic procedure.

It is about human beings and their careers.

A person who spends years doing higher-level work without receiving corresponding recognition, seniority or financial benefits is not merely dealing with an administrative inconvenience.

Their career is being affected.

What Happens to the Person Waiting Below?

This is the part of the Pakistani workplace debate we often ignore.

We discuss the person receiving the extension.

We discuss their experience.

We discuss their importance.

We discuss how difficult they would be to replace.

But we rarely discuss the person sitting below them.

The deputy who cannot become director.

The assistant manager who cannot become manager.

The reporter who cannot move into editorial management.

The professor waiting for promotion.

The civil servant waiting for the next grade.

The employee who has spent ten years preparing for a position that never becomes available.

That person also has a career.

That person also has a family.

That person also has ambitions.

And that person eventually has a choice.

Wait—or leave.

When “Retention” Becomes an Excuse

Pakistani organisations frequently say they want to retain experienced employees.

There is nothing wrong with that.

But retention should not become a magic word that ends every discussion.

If an organisation genuinely needs a retired employee’s expertise, it can retain them as a consultant.

It can appoint them for a defined project.

It can create an advisory role.

It can establish a fixed-term arrangement with transparent terms.

But if the same person continues occupying the position that should logically become part of a succession plan, the organisation needs to explain why.

Otherwise, “we need his experience” becomes indistinguishable from:

“We don’t want anyone else to have the position.”

The Media Industry Cannot Be Exempt

This is particularly important for media organisations.

Journalists routinely question government departments about:

– extensions;

– delayed promotions;

– acting appointments;

– supersession;

– nepotism;

– favouritism;

– lack of transparency;

– and the treatment of retired officials.

They should.

But journalism also has an internal obligation.

The same standard of scrutiny must apply inside the newsroom.

A newspaper cannot argue that a government department should promote deserving employees while maintaining opaque career structures of its own.

A television channel cannot criticise corporate nepotism while refusing to explain how senior appointments are made internally.

A media house cannot demand transparency from public institutions while treating questions about its own management practices as inappropriate.

The press should not be above accountability.

Its credibility depends on it.

The Irony of Dawn

There is therefore an unavoidable irony in the case of Dawn.

Its journalism has frequently exposed precisely the institutional behaviours that employees across Pakistan complain about.

Dawn has reported cases where prolonged extensions affected promotion prospects.

It has highlighted the consequences of ad-hocism.

It has carried arguments that merit and performance should determine advancement.

And its reporting on the Supreme Court’s recent rulings has brought renewed attention to the injustice that can arise when temporary arrangements continue indefinitely.

All of that is legitimate and important journalism.

But if these principles are to have credibility, they must also survive an examination of the institution that publishes them.

That does not mean every allegation against a media organisation is true.

It does mean that media organisations should be willing to answer questions about themselves with the same seriousness with which they ask questions of others.

If Dawn believes that prolonged extensions can frustrate promotion and create institutional stagnation, it should be able to explain how its own senior management and succession practices reconcile with that principle.

If retired managers are retained or rehired, there should be a clear explanation of why, for how long and under what criteria.

If senior positions are extended repeatedly, there should be a transparent explanation of the institutional reasoning.

And if there is a genuine succession plan, employees should know what it is.

That is not hostility towards Dawn.

That is exactly the kind of accountability that a newspaper should welcome.

Retired Does Not Mean Useless

There is another point worth making.

The argument should never be reduced to “retired people should leave.”

That would be unfair and simplistic.

Pakistan has an enormous pool of experienced professionals whose expertise remains valuable after retirement.

The issue is not age.

The issue is opportunity and structure.

An organisation can benefit from an experienced retired employee while simultaneously creating opportunities for younger employees.

A consultancy role can transfer institutional knowledge.

A mentoring role can develop younger staff.

A fixed-term project can utilise specialist expertise.

A board or advisory position can preserve institutional memory.

The problem arises when experience is used as a reason to permanently occupy the career ladder.

The Real Cost Is Paid by the Next Generation

When senior positions remain blocked, the damage is not always immediately visible.

The employee does not necessarily resign tomorrow.

Instead, motivation gradually disappears.

They stop volunteering for additional responsibilities.

They stop believing promises about promotion.

They begin looking outside.

Some move to competitors.

Some join international organisations.

Some move abroad.

Others simply become disengaged.

The organisation then complains about a lack of loyalty.

But loyalty cannot survive indefinitely without opportunity.

Pakistan’s Best Employees Have Options

This is especially true in today’s economy.

A talented Pakistani professional no longer has to depend exclusively on the organisation where they started.

LinkedIn has changed professional networking.

Remote work has changed geography.

International companies can recruit Pakistani professionals.

Freelancing has created alternative income streams.

Startups provide new career paths.

The best employees therefore have more choices than previous generations.

If an organisation repeatedly tells them to wait while senior positions remain occupied indefinitely, eventually they will stop waiting.

And when they leave, another company benefits from the investment that the original employer made in developing them.

The Question Every Organisation Should Ask

Every organisation—government, corporate, media, academic or otherwise—should ask itself five questions:

How long should a temporary appointment last?

When does an extension become institutional stagnation?

What happens to the people waiting below?

What is our succession plan?

And perhaps the most important question:

Are we retaining experienced people—or preventing the next generation from advancing?

These are not anti-seniority questions.

They are pro-institution questions.

An institution that depends permanently on one person is not necessarily strong.

It may actually be fragile.

A strong institution creates successors.

A strong institution transfers knowledge.

A strong institution rewards performance.

A strong institution makes room for younger leadership.

And a strong institution can survive when one person eventually leaves.

Who Watches the Watchdogs?

Pakistan needs better workplace cultures.

Government departments need transparent promotion systems.

Private companies need meaningful career paths.

Media organisations need internal accountability.

Universities need timely promotions.

And managers need to understand that employees are not simply resources to be retained.

They are professionals building careers.

The irony is that some of the strongest voices demanding these reforms are themselves part of institutions that must answer the same questions.

That is not a reason to silence criticism.

It is a reason to make the criticism more honest.

Dawn has every right to scrutinise Pakistan’s bureaucrats, corporations and governments.

But Dawn, like every other institution, must also accept scrutiny.

The standard should be simple:

If it is wrong when someone else does it, it should at least require an explanation when we do it ourselves.

Pakistan does not need workplaces where people remain in positions forever because they are experienced.

It needs workplaces where experience is transferred, merit is rewarded and succession is planned.

Because retaining one person indefinitely may protect an individual’s position.

But creating opportunities for the next generation is what protects an institution.

And ultimately, the credibility of any organisation—including a newspaper—is measured not only by what it says about fairness, but by how fairly it treats the people who work inside it.

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These statistics show that the phenomenon of terrorism has affected all parts of Pakistan, ranging from ordinary citizens to those responsible for ensuring the security of the state. Among all the provinces, Balochistan has suffered the most. It is rich in natural resources and significant in terms of strategic sites like Gwadar Port. Balochistan has seen not only attacks on law enforcement agencies, but also attacks on people, industrial workers, logistics, and infrastructure. Such incidents lead to loss of life as well as the reluctance of investors to invest in the region. A similar situation is happening in Khyber Pakhtunkhwa, with the major part of this region being made up of the merged districts along the border with Afghanistan. According to official statements of the Government of Pakistan and ISPR, the majority of the latest attacks were conducted by Fitna al-Khawarij, which is the official name given to Pakistani authorities to the banned Tehrik-e-Taliban Pakistan (TTP). The authorities have stated that such organizations try to exploit the safe havens they have across the border to carry out attacks on civilians and military personnel. The Impact caused by terrorism cannot be measured only in figures. Each attack leaves communities sorrowful, resulting in the creation of orphans, damaging lives, and making people unsure in the future. Schools are closed, businesses stop working, and basic health services are absent from such areas. The recent case Indicates that the threat is present. In 2025 and 2026, Pakistan witnessed multiple occurrences of deadly attacks in Baluchistan and Khyber Pakhtunkhwa aimed at security convoys, passenger transport systems, and public gatherings. One of the worst attacks was on the Jaffar Express train in Baluchistan as it targeted a passenger train carrying hundreds of civilians. The attack resulted in loss of lives, injuries to passengers, and large-scale rescue operations conducted by the security forces of Pakistan, along with other implications of terrorism, transportation disruptions, and psychological impact on travel. Despite the challenges facing Pakistan, the response of the country has always been multifaceted. It has employed its intelligence operations to respond to the attacks and adopted innovative methods for border management and coordination of various institutions in civilian and military spheres. Nevertheless, the recurring incidents of terror underline that military effects on terrorism cannot by themselves eliminate terrorism. Pakistan has made immense sacrifices during the last 20 years, with thousands of civilians dead and armed forces, police, Frontier Corps, and other law enforcement agencies sacrificing their lives for the security of their country. The strategy adopted by Pakistan against terrorism has changed substantially in the last twenty years. After a series of deadly terrorist incidents in Pakistan, the country implemented a wide-ranging counter terrorism policy consisting of military actions, intelligence sharing, border protection, and legal modifications. These operations, Operation Zarb-e-Azb (2014) and Operation Radd-ul-Fasaad (2017), destroyed terrorist facilities and disrupted the networks of terrorists working in the country. As stated in the Inter-Services Public Relations (ISPR), these operations led to the reduction of many terrorist organizations’ efficiency and helped restore state authority in previously affected territory. The Pakistan Army, together with the Pakistan Air Force, the Pakistan Navy, the Frontier Corps, the Police, and the intelligence services, has played a key role during the fight against terrorism in Pakistan. Thousands of soldiers and officers have become martyrs while saving civilian lives, defending borders, and conducting different intelligence led operations. Their sacrifices are in addition to the sacrifice made by police officers, rescuers, doctors, and ordinary people and represent one of the most significant contributions of Pakistan to the fight against terrorism in the world. Although military methods have diminished the power of terrorist organizations, specialists claim that it is not possible to defeat terrorism only by military efforts. As specified by the Financial Action Task Force (FATF), one of the most efficient means of fighting against terrorists is to stop their financing. Even though Pakistan has enhanced its anti-money laundering and counter-terrorist financing system in recent years, it is necessary to keep on practicing this idea and cooperating with other countries in order to avoid the rebirth of terrorist organizations. The economic Impact of terrorism is equally dangerous. The Pakistan Economic Surveys show that since 2001 terrorism has caused Pakistan direct and indirect economic damages of more than $150 billion. Namely, these damages include destroyed infrastructure, decreased foreign investments, reduced number of tourists,

  • A Second Great Wall of Trust: Why Only China Can F…

    By General Ghulam Mustafa & Arshad H Abbasi  We have stood together at the foot of the Great Wall of China more than once at different times, but today a thought has returned to both of us, unspoken until now. The Wall runs some 21,196 kilometres across dynasties and deserts, built stone by stone over centuries to secure a civilization’s frontier. Pakistan’s own most dangerous frontier — the Durand Line separating us from Afghanistan — runs roughly 2,625 kilometres, barely an eighth of that length. If a civilization on the scale of China could raise a barrier of that magnitude with the tools of the third century BC, then securing a border less than an eighth as long, with the tools of the twenty-first century, cannot be beyond the reach of the partnership Beijing and Islamabad have built. We do not ask China to build us a wall of stone. We ask Beijing to help us build something sturdier: a wall of enforced accountability against the militants using Afghan soil to bleed Pakistan dry. That bleeding is not a metaphor. Since the Afghan Taliban returned to power in Kabul, the Tehreek-e-Taliban Pakistan has operated with a freedom of movement across our western border that it never enjoyed before. Balochistan burns. Khyber Pakhtunkhwa buries its soldiers and its schoolchildren in the same week. And now the shockwaves have reached Punjab, the country’s demographic and economic core. Every honest accounting of this violence traces back to the same source: sanctuary, training, and logistical freedom on Afghan soil, tolerated or unchecked by an administration in Kabul that owes its survival, in no small part, to Chinese patience and Chinese capital. This is why we write to Beijing, and to Beijing specifically, rather than to Washington, Brussels, or Moscow. Survey after survey inside Pakistan finds that well over eight in ten of our citizens consider China, not any Western power, to be Pakistan’s true friend. Our leaders have called this friendship higher than the Himalayas and deeper than the ocean, and we do not repeat that line as ceremony. We repeat it because it is the only frame in which Beijing can hear what we are about to say plainly: no other country on earth holds the leverage over the Taliban that China holds, and no other country has more to lose from squandering it. Consider what China has already built in Afghanistan without formal recognition of its government. The Xinjiang Central Asia Petroleum and Gas Company signed a twenty-five-year contract to develop the Amu Darya oil basin, committing roughly $150 million annually and scaling toward $540 million over three years. State-backed firms continue to negotiate the long-stalled Mes Aynak copper concession, one of the largest untapped copper deposits on earth, alongside serious interest in Afghan lithium and iron ore. Beijing has cut tariffs on 98 % of Afghan imports. An active Chinese embassy operates in Kabul today, accepting Taliban-appointed diplomats, even as formal recognition is withheld. This is not incidental engagement. This is the deepest economic relationship any major power currently has with the Taliban administration, and it gives China something no airstrike or sanction regime has ever given anyone: the ability to make continued investment conditional on results. We are asking Beijing to use that leverage with the same discipline it has already shown in defending its own security interests. China has made clear, repeatedly and without apology, that it will not tolerate the Turkistan Islamic Party or East Turkistan Islamic Movement fighters operating from Afghan territory against Xinjiang. We are asking only that China extend that identical, non-negotiable standard to the Tehreek-e-Taliban Pakistan and its allied networks operating against us. If Kabul can be made to understand that Chinese mining contracts, Chinese tariff relief, and Chinese diplomatic cover all depend on a genuine, verifiable crackdown on TTP sanctuaries, this insurgency does not need years to end. It needs a Kabul administration that finally has more to lose from harbouring militants than from disowning them. But security pressure alone will not hold, and here we want to be honest about what Afghanistan actually needs from its neighbours, China chief among them. Afghanistan’s national literacy rate stands at just 37 % — 52 % among men, a mere 27 % among women — and UNESCO reports that more than nine in ten ten-year-olds in the country cannot read a simple sentence. Two point two million adolescent girls remain locked out of secondary school entirely, the only country on earth to enforce such a ban, at a projected cost to Afghanistan’s own economy of nearly $9.6 billion in lost potential by 2066. No pipeline, no copper mine, and no railway line will stabilize a country where the next generation cannot read the contracts, safety manuals, or engineering plans that would let them run these projects themselves. It is China’s duty, as the neighbour with the deepest economic stake and the clearest long-term interest in a stable Afghanistan, to make literacy, vocational training, and the reopening of girls’ education a hard condition of its investment — not out of charity, but because an illiterate, disenfranchised population is the same population the TTP and ETIM recruit from. Afghanistan does not need a foreign army. It needs classrooms, teachers, and a workforce equipped to build the country’s own future, backed by an investor patient and disciplined enough to insist on it. Every failed intervention in Afghanistan’s modern history has shared the same flaw: outsiders who came to fight a war, not to build a neighbour. Britain came and left. The Soviet Union came and left, at ruinous cost to itself. NATO and the United States spent two decades and did not leave functioning institutions behind them. China is different in the one respect that matters most: China is not leaving. It shares a border with Afghanistan. Its investments are measured in decades, not electoral cycles. And it has, through the Belt and Road Initiative and the China-Pakistan Economic Corridor, already built the template for what real

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