New Delhi: Come winter and the air hangs heavy, a suffocating blanket that smothers life and hope. For four long months, from October to January, a thick, toxic smog descends upon Pakistan, stretching from Peshawar in the North to Larkana in the South. It’s a seasonal nightmare, a recurring public health emergency that has transformed vibrant cities into dystopian landscapes. Social media echoes with desperate cries for help, news articles paint a grim picture of “methane-laden” air, and WhatsApp messages from Lahore paint a stark reality: “It’s like inhaling directly from a car exhaust.”
This current winter, the scale of the crisis has shattered all previous records. The Air Quality Index (AQI), a measure of fine particulate matter in the air, deems a value of 50 or below as “good” and 300 or above as “hazardous.” This smog season, AQI levels exceeding 1,000 have become routine, with Multan even breaching the 2,000 mark. Hospitals are overflowing with patients suffering from respiratory ailments, their numbers a stark testament to the invisible enemy in the air.
Drone footage of Lahore, once celebrated as the “City of Gardens,” went viral in November, depicting a city shrouded in a dark, apocalyptic haze reminiscent of a scene from Blade Runner. International media reported that the smog was visible from space, satellite images revealing an unnatural, alien white patch over Punjab, a seething, toxic presence.
Smog has become a global phenomenon, affecting billions worldwide, but its impact is most concentrated in a narrow strip stretching from Dhaka to Islamabad and Peshawar, with Delhi and Lahore at its epicenter. As the World Health Organisation’s Director General, Dr. Tedros Adhanom Ghebreyesus, warned in 2018, the world has turned the corner on tobacco, and now it must do the same for the “new tobacco” – the toxic air that billions breathe every day. “No one, rich or poor, can escape air pollution,” he declared, calling it a silent public health emergency.
In Pakistan, the smog season triggers a predictable cycle of reactive measures: bans on crop burning, fines on vehicles, school closures, work-from-home policies, and curbs on social gatherings. Think-tanks and NGOs hold a flurry of events, everyone has a statement ready, and politicians engage in social media skirmishes. Punjab’s information minister, Azma Bokhari, points fingers across the border, claiming that “the wind direction brings air from India into Pakistan, yet India does not seem to be taking this problem as seriously as it should.” Policies and guidelines have been issued over the years, but meaningful structural change remains elusive.
The four months of smog are a cacophony of noise, doom, gloom, and recriminations, but the urgency quickly dissipates when the skies clear. The cycle repeats every winter, with the smog returning more intense and lethal. After nearly a decade of this annual menace, the country has yet to fully grasp the enormity of the crisis. What would a serious, data-driven conversation on smog look like?
The numbers paint a terrifying picture. The WHO reports that 99 per cent of the world’s population breathes polluted air exceeding safety limits, with middle- and low-income countries bearing the brunt. A growing body of evidence links air pollution to a wide range of health problems, including respiratory illnesses, heart disease, stroke, asthma, and cancer. Prenatal exposure has even been linked to IQ loss in children. Air pollution is dangerous even at low concentrations, and it can amplify the effects of other pollutants and health risks.
The ‘Global Burden of Diseases, Injuries, and Risk Factors Study’ identifies air pollution as the world’s leading contributor to the global disease burden, responsible for an estimated 230 million disability-adjusted life-years (DALYs) – surpassing even smoking, high blood pressure, and birth complications. The University of Chicago Energy Policy Institute estimates that air pollution shortens global lifespans by 2.3 years, exceeding the impact of cigarettes and tobacco. It kills more people than HIV/AIDS, tuberculosis, and malaria combined, and may even be deadlier than war.
While Pakistan lacks high-quality data, estimates suggest that if the pollution problem were magically solved overnight, the average Karachiite would gain 2.6 years of life expectancy, Islamabad residents 4.6 years, and Lahore residents a staggering 5.3 years. Given these numbers, the current discourse on smog seems woefully inadequate. Why is there no mass mobilization, no national emergency?
Professor Michael Greenstone, director of the Energy Policy Institute, argues that air pollution is the greatest external threat to human health, yet it’s not recognized with the force and vigour it deserves. Unlike traditional health threats, air pollution is largely invisible, difficult to quantify, ubiquitous, and disperses rapidly. It’s a slow, patient killer, with disproportionate impact on the poor. Furthermore, its transboundary nature and the lack of an easy fix complicate efforts to address it.
A critical missing piece in the smog puzzle is data. After a decade of smog, Pakistan still lacks reliable air monitoring networks, dedicated research groups, and comprehensive policy frameworks. The conversation is hampered by a lack of basic information: the true health impact, the economic costs, the variations across cities and regions, and the effectiveness of different solutions. Without solid data, even the simplest questions remain unanswered.
One of the few publicly available, long-term, detailed air quality datasets for major Pakistani cities comes from US embassies and consulates. Using high-quality sensors, they log hourly particulate matter concentrations (PM2.5) and convert them into AQI values. While this data offers a starting point, it has limitations. It only tracks PM2.5, is localized to embassy regions, and suffers from significant gaps and invalid readings. A team of students spent over 80 hours sanitizing this imperfect data, highlighting the challenges of working with limited information.
Analysis of this data reveals some disturbing trends. The smog season, clearly visible in the crimson and purple concentrations from October to February, is getting progressively worse in all cities except Karachi, likely due to its coastal location. While the conventional wisdom focuses on November and December, January is almost as bad, particularly in Islamabad and Peshawar, which experienced a dramatically worse January in 2024. Even outside the smog season, unhealthy AQI levels are a year-round problem, with “good” days becoming increasingly rare. There is no longer a truly healthy period; there is only bad AQI and worse AQI.
Need for Robust Data
Wind patterns play a significant role. Lahore, Islamabad, and Peshawar exhibit similar patterns, with AQI peaking in the winter and dipping in the summer and monsoon months. The near-perfect synchronization of AQI peaks and dips between Lahore and New Delhi underscores the impact of shared geography and wind currents. Karachi, on the other hand, benefits from sea winds that disperse pollution, showing AQI levels similar to Mumbai.
The day-night cycle also reveals interesting patterns. Lahore and New Delhi experience peak AQI levels in the early morning and during rush hour, with a dip in the late afternoon due to changes in the planet boundary layer. Karachi and Mumbai show significantly lower levels throughout the day.
Averaging out the hourly changes in AQI for the month demonstrates that Lahore and New Delhi are again in good synchronicity: AQI levels peak in the early morning hours, likely when the weather is coldest (around 4-5am) and then again during morning rush hour (9-10 am).
Rain provides temporary relief. While a downpour can significantly reduce AQI levels, the effect is short-lived, with levels returning to pre-rainfall levels within days. Moreover, this mitigating effect may be limited to the smog season.
These preliminary findings underscore the need for a comprehensive, real-time air quality monitoring network. With robust data, targeted interventions become possible. China’s success in halting cement production during high AQI periods and implementing industrial relocation policies demonstrates the power of data-driven action. European cities have used monitoring data to plan roads and car-free zones. Day-night data can inform staggered office timings, and rainfall data can be incorporated into cost-benefit analyses for solutions like artificial rain. AQI data can help hospitals prepare for increased patient loads, and data-backed campaigns can encourage behavioural change.
A Manifestation of Pakistan’s Darkest Demons?
Data can also provide deeper insights. During the Covid-19 lockdown in Wuhan, researchers using similar data found dramatic declines in PM2.5 concentrations, estimating that the lockdown likely saved far more lives than the virus itself. This stark contrast highlights the often-hidden health consequences of the status quo and the substantial costs of inaction on air pollution.
Monitoring is the critical first step in combating smog. Without good data, informed responses are impossible. The lack of such data in Pakistan, the fifth most populous country and a nuclear power, with a decade-long smog crisis and a Ministry of Climate Change, is a staggering failure. It reflects a tendency towards short-term fixes rather than long-term strategies, an “ostrich approach” that ignores the problem in hopes it will disappear.
The absence of public activism on this issue is also concerning. The failure to find even a single air pollution activist in Lahore for a collaborative art project speaks volumes.
This smog season has made it clear that the crisis will only worsen. It’s a symbol of Pakistan’s broader challenges – its politics, culture, and national identity, all severely tested in recent times. Smog can be seen as the physical manifestation of the country’s darkest demons, ignored at its peril. Unfortunately, the apocalyptic haze is here to stay.
Story Credit: owsa.in