Sirajuddin Aziz
Whilst most of us proudly mention that over 65 percent of Pakistan’s population is under 30 years of age, we admit, without much embarrassment, that more than 25 million children are deprived of school education.
Nearly 12 million girls, almost 2 million more than boys, are out of school. The near-accurate guesstimates place the figure at around 25 million children aged 5 to 16 who do not attend any school in Pakistan. A nation that allocates less than 3 percent of its budget to education has much to answer for, to itself and to future generations.
At convocations I address, my focus is often more on the teachers than the students. How relevant are our teachers to today’s knowledge economy? Do they teach how future knowledge will unfold, or are they stuck with outdated methods? While reviewing a PowerPoint presentation on microeconomics, I asked when it was last updated—it hadn’t been since 2018. Even PowerPoint is being replaced; AI now generates presentations instantly.
Our failure in education has pushed us decades behind other developing nations. In South Asia alone, we lag behind our neighbours. In 75 years since independence, we haven’t produced a single institution comparable to MIT. Our neighbour boasts at least 25 such institutions where STEM and STEAM education thrive. Not one Pakistani university appeared in the top 500 global rankings, clear evidence of apathy.
A question I often raise, much to the chagrin of educationists, is how a 20-year-old today will fit into the world of 2047, Pakistan’s centenary. Will they be relevant or entirely out of step? Likely the latter, unless we urgently reform our education policy and quality standards. Our approach must be futuristic, preparing today’s youth and unborn generations for the decades ahead.
Education must do more than produce employable graduates. It must expand thought, cultivate discernment, and instil lifelong values. The purpose is not merely to make a living but to develop individuals who contribute meaningfully to society. Policymakers must create long-term strategies, not for short-term results, but for transformative, measurable outcomes.
Globally, the speed of innovation demands that we embrace STEAM and STEM-based curricula. Any delay will widen the gap between us and the rest of the world. Japan has now achieved internet speeds of 1.02 petabytes per second, enough to download the entire Netflix library in one second. Meanwhile, we slow down internet access. Misplaced priorities indeed.
Human capital is an intangible asset that appreciates with training and development. Organisations must invest in continuous learning, secondments, and external platforms for skill development. Talent management must ensure that employees’ skills align with their roles, no room for square pegs in round holes.
Schools must be safe spaces of intellect, not vice. Leadership of educational institutions must rest with those of unimpeachable integrity. Japan’s “Shogakko” system ensures six years of compulsory elementary education, forming the base of its 6-3-3-4 education model. Similarly, once “ghost schools” are eliminated, not sending a child to school by age five should be treated as a criminal offence, a dereliction of duty to the child, the state, and the future.
A university must be a place of light, liberty, and learning (Benjamin Disraeli). Formal qualifications matter, but practical competencies come from professional training and experience. As digitisation grows, formal education must be matched with continuous skill development, especially in problem-solving and technical proficiency.
Globally, the discourse now centres on how digitisation creates employment. It demands investment in higher education and training. The demand for advanced education will only grow. Human capital of this calibre will drive innovation and productivity by integrating digital technologies into the economy.
The writer is a Senior Banker & Freelance Columnist.
