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IN an interview a few years ago, one of Pakistan’s biggest business magnates said, “If I tell you the amount of the biggest bribe I have ever paid, you will have a heart attack.” He said he had bankrolled the playboy lifestyle of the son of a former top judge in return for favourable treatment in court cases related to his business empire.
A former chief minister once famously said “A degree is a degree! Whether fake or genuine, it’s a degree! It makes no difference!”. He rejected allegations of corruption against him, asserting “there is nothing wrong with corruption”.
In another interview, a former governor said that “little has changed regarding the country’s corruption problem; people take commissions for almost everything and even after being charged and fined by the National Accountability Bureau, I still hold high office. Everyone has a price and political or legal consequences are rare”.
These are not isolated examples but something everyone is aware of in Pakistan. People talk of ‘corrupt officials’, ‘lack of accountability’ or ‘poor laws’. While these explanations are not wrong, they are incomplete. Corruption persists not merely because laws are broken, but because psychological, social and institutional forces make unethical behaviour feel normal, justified and low-risk. Understanding corruption as a psychological and social system, rather than simply a criminal act, is essential if Pakistan is to move beyond slogans and towards meaningful reform.
Corruption in Pakistan is not merely the result of immoral individuals.
Corruption is rarely committed by people who see themselves as immoral. Research in psychology shows that individuals often engage in unethical behaviour while maintaining a positive self-image. They do this through moral disengagement, a process of rationalisation that allows people to justify actions they would otherwise condemn.
In Pakistan, such justifications are widespread. A police constable demanding a bribe may tell himself that his salary is insufficient. A politician may claim that illegal funds are necessary to “serve constituents” and a businessman may argue that paying bribes is necessary in a broken system. These narratives matter because they reduce internal resistance to corruption and are framed as necessary, deserved or harmless. The psychological cost of wrongdoing drops dramatically.
Social psychology shows that individuals take cues from their environment, particularly from their leaders and peers. When those in positions of authority go unpunished, the message they get is that it is acceptable behaviour. In Pakistan, repeated scandals involving senior politicians, judges, military officials and business elites have created a dangerous culture: the rules are applied selectively. When accountability is absent at the top, it becomes easy to justify unethical behaviour at lower levels. Not taking bribes can feel naïve or even foolish. This is how corruption becomes embedded and normalised in society.
To explain corruption, it is essential to examine systems. Weak institutions, complex regulations, and poor oversight create environments where corrupt choices are easier and safer than honest ones. Pakistan’s bureaucracy and judiciary are prime examples. Lengthy procedures, discretionary authority and opaque rules create countless points where informal payments can be extracted. For helpless citizens, bribery becomes the only way to get things done in a broken system.
Low salaries and an exploitative culture further exacerbate the problem. While poverty does not justify corruption, poverty increases vulnerability to unethical choices. For countless millions of poorly paid workers, it is a matter of survival.
Psychological research also shows that in a broken system, individuals feel confident of not being caught and that even if caught, they can get away with it through bribery, kinship or political affiliations. A minister caught red-handed with huge amounts of cash at home or a female courier caught on video smuggling thousands of dollars through the airport are let off easily. When consequences are rare, delayed or politically negotiated, corruption is easy to practice.
In Pakistan, corruption is not always about money. Nepotism, patronage and favouritism are also deeply rooted social practices. Psychological research highlights ‘in-group bias’ — the tendency to favour family, friends or group members — as a powerful driver of unethical behaviour. When meritocracy is sacrificed for loyalty, it erodes institutional capacity, demoralise competent professionals and entrenches inequality.
Pakistan’s anti-corruption efforts have largely focused on investigation and punishment. While accountability is essential, a strategy centred solely on fear of punishment ignores how corruption actually operates in everyday life. Psychological evidence suggests that deterrence works best when the rules are clear and enforced consistently, irrespective of power or position. When rules are applied selectively, they are seen as politically motivated and rejected. Moreover, excessive focus on individual wrongdoing obscures systemic reform. Arresting a few high-profile figures does little to change the culture of institutions that breed corruption.
If corruption is sustained by psychological and social mechanisms, then reform must address these foundations. First, simplifying procedures reduces opportunities for discretion and rationalisation. Digital systems, clear timelines and transparency weaken the ‘grey zones’ where corruption thrives. Online payment of motor tax in Sindh is a good example. Second, leaders set norms. When those in power demonstrate integrity and accept accountability, it sends a very strong message across the system. Third, fair wages, merit-based promotions and performance evaluation reduce the pressures and justifications that fuel corruption. Fourth, public campaigns that normalise refusal to pay bribes, protect whistleblowers and reward ethical behaviour can gradually change what people expect from institutions and each other.
Corruption in Pakistan is not merely the result of immoral individuals. It is the product of psychological rationalisations, social norms and institutional failures interacting over time. Treating it solely as a legal problem ignores the deeper forces that allow it to persist.
If Pakistan is serious about tackling corruption, it must move beyond the language of blame and punishment towards a more honest diagnosis. Corruption survives where systems make it easy, norms make it acceptable, and psychology makes it justifiable. Reform, therefore, is not just about catching the corrupt. It is about redesigning institutions and expectations so that integrity becomes the easier choice. Until then, corruption will not remain an aberration, but a predictable outcome of how power is exercised and justified in Pakistan.
The writer is a consultant psychiatrist.
Published in Dawn, March 6th, 2026
