A nation offline
On August 5, 2004, as he stood to sign a $417 billion defense spending bill, George W Bush delivered perhaps the greatest ‘Bushism’ of all. Discussing his strategy for a safer America, the President declared that, “America’s enemies are innovative and resourceful — and so are we. They never stop thinking of new ways to harm our country — and neither do we.”
Years later, history would remember this as a significant moment — the only time the Bush administration spoke truth. What no one realised was that 7,142 miles away, another state was busy taking notes and preparing its own disastrous list of disastrous Bushisms to embark upon.
The latest one came this time in the form of Simon Migliano’s report on the total economic loss from government-orchestrated internet shutdowns in 2024. Pakistan, in its usual manner, stood at the top: suffering a gargantuan loss of $1.62bn (roughly Rs423bn).
This was more than the economic loss suffered by India, Iran, Azerbaijan, Russia, the entire South America, the European continent, and Oceania combined. It placed Pakistan ahead of Myanmar and Sudan (countries embroiled in civil war), Venezuela (despite all the outcry around Maduro’s dictatorial tendencies), and Iran (notwithstanding the Guard’s anti-social-media impulses). Truly, a remarkable accomplishment.
Judicial support alone won’t fix the problem; the real burden of enforcement rests with the executive, and that can only start with a commitment to governance
And the worrying part: this was probably the tip of the iceberg. The real economic loss, your massive informal economy (Fiverr freelancers, e-commerce entrepreneurs, remote learners, crypto-traders), remained almost unaccounted for. Taking them into account, the real numbers were likely to be much more significant and castigating.
This problem obviously comes with our proclivity to overreact to minor situations. According to a Pakistan Institute of Development Economics’ (Pide) report, these shutdowns were orchestrated for three primary reasons – policing dissent, information control, and (the raison de’etre) elections.
But while the state may have achieved its short-term objectives (influencing an election), the long-term consequences (impact on your economy) were harrowing.
First came the everyday gig economy, the Bykea, In-Drive, Yango, and Food-Panda riders. The reverberations for them were felt almost immediately. No customers, no orders, and the result — a day without any wages earned. Pide estimated that the online cab services experienced a 97 per cent (financial range of Rs29-32 million) and food delivery services a 75pc reduction rate (approximately Rs135m) from digital blackouts in 2023. And these were the numbers for a daily basis; the overall yearly figure stood much higher.
Next was the telecommunication sector, suffering a net loss of Rs450m and grinding to a halt almost instantaneously. The freelancers (Rs390m loss) followed closely with a massive impact on their international clientage, reputation, and visibility on freelancing platforms.
But what made this even worse was the inegalitarian nature of these blackouts. Digital shutdowns disproportionately target the less fortunate, and this is a fact that goes hardly noticed. A key reason is that while cell-phone telecommunication halts to a standstill during the blackout, the traditional home/office broadband functions as usual. This becomes a problem in a country where only 15 million out of its 45 million households have access to traditional broadband facilities — the rest remain stuck in airplane mode for as long as the government decides.
So what ought to be done?
The first argument is to embed meaningful internet access as a fundamental right or, at the very least, as a principle of policy within the constitution. This is supported by the dictates of international organisations, such as the United Nations Human Rights Council and the United Nations General Assembly, which recognise meaningful internet access as a core component of the right to information and expression.
India, to its credit, has some jurisprudence on the matter. For years, it topped the global charts with Kashmir alone surviving more blackouts than many small nations combined (49 out of the country’s total 84 shutdowns in 2022).
But then came Anuradha Bhasin v. Union of India,with the apex court declaring that indefinite digital shutdowns violated Articles 19(1)(a) and 19(1)(g) of the Indian Constitution: the rights to free expression and free trade. That said, the effective utilisation of this principle is yet to be seen.
Pakistani jurisprudence, by contrast, falls short. Besides, J Athar Minallah’s 2018 judgment (in response to Umer Gillani’s petition), the law remains largely silent on the matter. Furthermore, the judgment straitjackets itself to the question of the legality of the government’s actions under the Pakistan Telecommunication Act, never getting into the fundamental rights argument.
Yet even if the courts were to broaden their stance, judicial imprimatur alone won’t fix the problem; the real burden of enforcement still rests with the executive. And that can only start with a commitment to governance: no more ad-hoc shutdowns or arbitrary throttles, but a predictable regulatory and valuation calendar for digital access, like any other utility.
This must be further coupled with accountability: keeping public logs of shutdown, documenting their duration, and above all, justifying their legitimacy before the parliament.
The writer is a student at the Lahore University of Management Sciences.
Published in Dawn, The Business and Finance Weekly, January 5th, 2026