Imagine a country where women are encouraged to earn degrees, not for their own ambitions or careers, but merely to enhance their role as “prestigious” housewives. In this society, a woman’s educational background is not the evidence of her intellect or potential, but a brand—one that makes her a more desirable Bahu, the ideal daughter-in-law.
Let’s look at some numbers. This year, in Pakistan, more than a million students enrolled in universities. Based on previous data, we can predict that about 49 percent of them were female. About 54 percent of women in Pakistan choose medicine , and women outnumber men as general practitioners. Yet, among the female labour force of urban and university educated women, only 4.57 percent work as doctors. Statistics report that 35 percent lady doctors are not practicing.
This number doubles for engineers, where 70 percent of female engineers are out of workforce. Overall among educated women, the formal labour force participation sits at 25 percent, slightly better than the overall average of 22.6 percent.
That means about 77.4 percent of women in this country are doing unpaid domestic or agricultural labour, a figure alarmingly high compared to other countries with similar income levels. There is also a significant data gap on the unemployed women with post graduate degrees and doctorates.
Provided that there is also not a lot of data and research on why this the case is, I am mostly left with personal observations, speculations and guesses. It seems that some of the “good” research organizations have done some guesswork too. According to ADB, the reason so many highly qualified women are out of the work-force is the lack of mobility and conservative social norms. A World Bank report suggests women are 7 percent less likely to work after marriage. If the husband agrees that the woman should work after marriage, women are 5 percent more likely to work. But without the husband’s approval, women are not likely to work at all.
The data tells us a very problematic story. While the data confirm a problem, they fail to pinpoint its root cause. So, unlike our policymakers, let’s brainstorm.
This cannot simply be an issue of educational access since this analysis concerns women who already have that access and so were able to earn those degrees, Nor is it purely about the nation’s high unemployment rate because it does not affect all genders equally. This disparity affects women far more than men.
The problem, therefore, must stem from Pakistan’s male-centred, colonial developmental narrative, which fails to integrate women into the workforce because it was not built for it. We have been focusing on educational access (to little effect, but still), without addressing the structural barriers that prevent these educated women from entering and remaining in the workforce.
Pakistan’s patriarchal social structure defines rigid gender roles, which the state has implicitly endorsed through its inaction towards the integration of women into the development paradigm. This disconnect between higher education for women and workforce participation arises from societal expectations: women’s primary role is to manage the household, with professional aspirations viewed as secondary and contingent on family approval.
Cultural norms are an important part of a people’s identity; however, they can sometimes be harmful. The harm these norms can bring multiples if they are institutionalized through policies, urban planning (or lack thereof), workplace environments, and governmental narratives. Development strategies in Pakistan seldom address the nuanced needs of women, failing to provide pathways that enable their transition from education to employment.
There has been an observable perversion of these cultural norms in recent times. A particularly insidious example of this phenomenon, exacerbating the issue is the fetishization of highly educated women, particularly doctors, as ideal daughters-in-law. An educated woman is sought as a good bahu, not because of her professional contributions but as a status symbol. These women are often discouraged, by guilt-tripping, or if that doesn’t work, from pursuing careers post-marriage, with their education serving as a marker of social prestige rather than a means of empowerment. This cultural fetishization is a manifestation of patriarchal control integrated deep into the society’s fabric, and it deprives women of agency and perpetuates cycles of underemployment and professional stagnation.
The problems do not end here. As we can see in the data, permission to work increases the likelihood of working by only 5 percent. Mobility remains one of the most significant barriers for women seeking employment in Pakistan. Public transportation systems are not designed to cater to the safety and convenience of women. Women face harassment in public spaces, transport and urban centres. The public transport is not as available, forcing women to use rickshaws, vans and taxis, making the commute very expensive and effectively, confining women in their homes.
After overcoming issues at home and the barriers of mobility, when women finally enter the workforce, they face hostile work environments and policies that are unfriendly to their dual roles as professionals and caregivers. There are few to no childcare facilities in Pakistan, especially in smaller urban centres, forcing them to choose between their families and careers. They are expected to bear the primary responsibility for domestic duties putting them at the risk of burnout. Moreover, there are very few workplace protection protocols present in the country, making them vulnerable to workplace harassment. Also, workplace cultures often reflect broader societal biases. Women who are assertive about their professional ambitions are frequently stigmatized, labelled as neglectful of their familial duties, or accused of defying cultural norms. These attitudes not only deter women from pursuing careers but also limit their upward mobility within organizations.
Moreover, women face the risk of getting their “privileges” to work revoked by their families if they ever talk about these problems. Any complaint about something carries the risk of their families declaring the work unsafe or unfit for women, putting their careers at risk. All the problems listed above, along with several other factors make the opportunity cost of having a career too high, turning them into effective barriers to entry.
The question arises, what can we do about it? To address the significant gaps in women’s workforce participation, the state needs to stop implicit and explicit support for the harmful cultural norms that are perpetuating employment inequality. Pakistan must evaluate its development agenda, and make sure it is more people-centred. A complete redesign of our development policy is required, focused on complete structural and cultural change.
For mobility, it goes without saying that the state needs to improve public transportation with provisions for women’s safety, alongside affordable private transport solutions. Similarly, the workplaces must be redesigned to cater to women’s needs through the provision of safe and inclusive facilities, including paid period and maternity leaves, childcare centres, and anti-harassment measures.
Programs tailored for re-integrating women into the labour force, especially after long career breaks, should also be introduced. These could include flexible working hours, re-skilling opportunities, and remote work options to align professional roles with domestic responsibilities. In parallel, public awareness campaigns are essential to challenge societal norms that undervalue women’s professional contributions and perpetuate their relegation to the domestic sphere. Legal reforms must enforce equal pay and ensure that anti-discrimination laws are implemented in both letter and spirit, while increasing women’s representation in decision-making roles to advocate for their rights effectively.
Pakistan can increase its GDP by 30 percent just by giving women the autonomy to work. To any policymaker who may be reading this: if you don’t care about anything else, care about the money, because frankly, right now, we can use it.
After all, the cost of inaction is too high—for women, for families, and for the nation.