IN Pakistan and across the globe, we are facing a mental health crisis of staggering proportions. But beneath the rising rates of anxiety, depression, and burnout lies a deeper, more uncomfortable truth. Our way of life is making us unwell.

We are told that the antidote to distress lies in individual treatment — pills, apps, or self-help routines. Yet, this narrative ignores the fact that we have built a world that is fundamentally at odds with human nature. Our lives are governed by speed, competition and digital overload. We chase productivity while starving for meaning. We connect constantly online but grow lonelier by the day. In this paradox, it is not surprising that so many of us feel anxious, numb or lost. These are not signs of personal failure. They are symptoms of a society out of sync with the social and spiritual values that are necessary to thrive.

Nowhere is this contradiction more evident than in high-income societies where material progress has reached its zenith, yet rates of loneliness, depression, substance abuse, and suicide continue to climb. These societies have everything the modern world promises yet they are struggling with an epidemic of despair.

This should be a wake-up call for countries like Pakistan. As we race to replicate Western models of development, obsessed with GDP, digitalisation, and industrial-scale efficiency, we risk importing not just their innovations, but also their afflictions. In our hunger to modernise, we may be laying the groundwork for our own psychological, social and spiritual unravelling.

Our identities were once rooted in belonging.

At the heart of this global disease are two interlinked forces. First is the erosion of collectivism. Traditional societies, like those in South Asia, once placed great emphasis on the family, neighbourhood, and the extended community.

Our identities were rooted in belonging. But modernity has championed radical individualism: a belief that self-fulfillment is a solo journey, that autonomy is sacred, and that dependency is weakness. The result is a world of isolated fragile selves, endlessly self-optimising, yet increasingly empty.

Second is the de-spiritualisation of life. In a world where materialism has become the dominant paradigm, value is measured in productivity, visibility and consumption. The sacred is no longer central, it is peripheral and often seen as outdated. This shift has severed our relationship with mystery, transcendence, and awe. It has emptied life of its deeper textures.

In Pakistan, this dissonance is hitting young people the hardest. Today’s youth are growing up between two worlds: one rooted in tradition and interdependence, the other defined by digital modernity and hyper-individualism. They are exposed to globalised ideals of success, beauty, and self-worth that are often alien to their cultural and spiritual contexts. Yet, they are expected to navigate these contradictions alone.

We are witnessing rising rates of depression, anxiety, substance abuse and suicide among adolescents and young adults. This isn’t just a mental health issue. It’s an identity crisis, a collapse of coherence between who they are, what they’re told to be and what truly matters. They are told to dream big but not taught how to grieve. They are connected to the world but feel disconnected from themselves. Without language, space, or guidance to explore these inner tensions, many suffer silently, questioning their worth, their place and their purpose.

Leading a mental health non-profit for over a decade, I’ve worked with communities that are struggling, not just with trauma or poverty, but with the invisible wounds of modern life: disconnection, disempowerment, and despair. This has helped me realise that healing cannot be reduced to medicine or psychotherapy alone. It must include a return to human wholeness, a reconnection with self, community, and the spirit.

This is why, alongside global best practices in mental health, we can draw from our own traditions of wisdom. For instance, in the Sufi path, suffering is not seen as a defect but as a signpost. The concept of zikr or remembrance speaks to a fundamental truth: healing begins when we remember what we’ve forgotten.

But practices and principles alone are not enough, we must also reimagine the systems we are building. From education to healthcare to economic development, we need a shift from isolation to community, from acceleration to presence, from control to compassion.

We are at a civilisational crossroads. Will we continue to live in ways that erode our well-being? Or will we reimagine a world that nourishes the human spirit?

The answer lies in returning to our true selves, to each other, and to the values that will enable us to live happier and healthier lives.

The writer is a public health practitioner focusing on mental health and co-founder of Taskeen Health Initiative.

Published in Dawn, May 31st, 2025