In recent years, the boundaries between different public roles in Pakistan have grown increasingly blurred. One of the most troubling trends is the confusion between activists, academics, and journalists. While each has a vital role in society, their responsibilities and ethical standards differ-and this difference matters, perhaps more now than ever before.
An academic is someone who teaches, researches, and contributes to the development of knowledge. Their work is built on critical thinking, fact-based analysis, and an openness to multiple perspectives. Academics are expected to challenge ideas, not push them. Their authority lies in the quality of their scholarship, not in the volume of their voice.
A journalist, meanwhile, plays the crucial role of informing the public. Journalism is about uncovering facts, presenting multiple sides, and giving people the information they need to make decisions. A journalist’s job is not to lead a protest or champion a cause, but to report truthfully-even when the truth is uncomfortable or unpopular. An activist, on the other hand, is someone driven by a cause. Activists seek change. They challenge the status quo, mobilize people, and advocate for specific political or social goals. Their role is emotional, persuasive, and often confrontational. Activism is essential in any democratic setup, but it is not the same as journalism or academia.
Yet, despite these distinctions, we are increasingly seeing activists present themselves as academics or journalists. This is not only misleading-it is harmful. Appearing on television as an “analyst,” writing op-eds as a “researcher,” or speaking at public events under the title of “expert,” many activists borrow the language and titles of academia or journalism to lend credibility to their arguments. This creates a dangerous confusion in the minds of the public.
When the viewer at home sees someone with a PhD title or a journalist’s byline, they are more likely to assume they are being presented with facts or neutral analysis. But in many cases, they are hearing a heavily politicized opinion wrapped in academic jargon or journalistic format. The difference may not be obvious to a lay audience-but the impact is significant.
One of the most troubling consequences of this confusion is the erosion of trust in public institutions. When activists masquerade as journalists, journalism loses its neutrality. When they wear the robes of academia, scholarship becomes suspect. In both cases, credibility is sacrificed, and the space for genuine, fact-based dialogue begins to shrink.
If someone is an activist, they should own that identity with pride. But there is a problem when someone hides their activism behind academic or journalistic credentials.
Another consequence is the deliberate spread of negativity. Many of these activist voices focus almost entirely on what is wrong-with the state, with society, with institutions. They highlight failures, shortcomings, and injustices, often in the most dramatic language. They rarely acknowledge nuance, complexity, or progress. This one-sided narrative creates an atmosphere of despair, where nothing seems to be working and no one can be trusted. Of course, it is important to talk about problems. But the difference between a responsible critic and an agenda-driven activist is that the former seeks solutions, while the latter thrives on discontent. The activist, in such cases, is not trying to help fix the system, but to discredit it entirely. When this message comes under the name of “analysis” or “expert opinion,” the public is misled, and democratic debate suffers.
Let me be clear that activism is not inherently wrong. In fact, some of the most important changes in history have been led by courageous activists. From civil rights to environmental protection, activism has been a force for progress. But roles must be clear. If someone is an activist, they should own that identity with pride. There is no shame in standing for a cause. But there is a problem when someone hides their activism behind academic or journalistic credentials, in order to appear objective when they are not.
This issue is not unique to Pakistan. Across the world, the lines between opinion and fact, reporting and advocacy, research and rhetoric are becoming harder to draw. Social media has further complicated the picture. Today, anyone with a Twitter account or a YouTube channel can claim to be an “expert.” But in such an environment, the burden falls even more on responsible institutions to maintain standards-and on the public to think critically.
We, as a society, need to develop media literacy and civic awareness. We must ask: Who is speaking? What are their credentials? Are they presenting verified facts, or are they pushing an opinion? Are they working for the public interest, or for a particular agenda? These questions are not cynical-they are necessary. Because only when we recognize the difference between different roles in public life can we engage in meaningful, productive dialogue.
We must also protect the integrity of our institutions. Universities must continue to foster honest, evidence-based scholarship, free from ideological bias. Newsrooms must remain committed to balanced, ethical reporting, no matter how strong the temptation to take sides. And civil society must encourage open debate, but also transparency about who is speaking, and why.
In a country like Pakistan, where trust in institutions is already fragile, we cannot afford further confusion. The activist has every right to raise their voice. But let them do so as an activist-not as a journalist, not as a scholar, and not as an expert unless they meet those standards. Let us respect the differences between these roles. Because if we blur them too much, we risk losing all of them.
The writer is a faculty member at the University of Peshawar and completed my postdoctoral fellowship at University of California, Los Angeles (UCLA).