In a country grappling with debt, dysfunction and political disarray, the idea of investing time and attention in artificial intelligence (AI) education for parliamentarians might seem out of place. But that would be a profound misreading of where the world is headed – and how far behind we already are.
Globally, AI is not merely a buzzword for tech conferences or startups. It is a core force shaping policy, politics, defence, trade, education, agriculture, and public health. It is influencing how laws are written, how benefits are distributed, and how citizens are surveilled. And it is doing so in ways that lawmakers, especially in developing democracies like ours, scarcely understand. This knowledge gap is no longer tolerable.
The need for AI literacy in legislatures is now being recognised across the developed world. The UK has launched a parliamentary AI scheme to educate MPs on the basic principles, risks, and applications of artificial intelligence. The Inter-Parliamentary Union (IPU), a global body representing parliaments, has issued guidelines for integrating AI and data literacy into the work of legislators. In the United States, at least one member of Congress has gone so far as to enrol in a machine learning degree to better understand the implications of the technology he is meant to regulate. These are not symbolic gestures. They reflect a growing awareness that legislative oversight cannot keep up with technological change unless lawmakers have at least a working knowledge of the underlying tools.
This is doubly true for countries like Pakistan. We do not have the luxury of strong, autonomous institutions or deep regulatory benches. If parliamentarians remain unfamiliar with the basic concepts of algorithmic bias, surveillance systems, facial recognition, large language models, or data protection, they will inevitably be outmanoeuvred – by vendors, consultants, foreign donors, or even unelected domestic bureaucracies. Already, Pakistan’s social welfare programmes are being shaped by opaque scoring systems. Surveillance capabilities are expanding quietly. Voter data, subsidy databases, and national security feeds are all being digitised without proper parliamentary scrutiny. That scrutiny cannot happen if legislators don’t understand what they’re looking at.
The goal is not to turn MPs into programmers. But they must become digitally articulate.
An informed parliament can be a crucial guardrail. Even a small group of AI-literate MPs could ask the right questions in standing committees, demand transparency in procurement, challenge surveillance contracts, and advocate for rights-based digital frameworks. They could also encourage more equitable deployment of AI in public services, ensuring it improves access to healthcare or education instead of reinforcing existing inequalities. In short, AI-literate lawmakers could act as a check against techno-authoritarianism in a state already drifting in that direction.
But the case for AI education isn’t just defensive. There is opportunity here, too. Pakistan is desperate to boost exports, attract investment, and create jobs. Everyone from donors to business chambers talks of digital transformation. But without legislative clarity – on data privacy, cybersecurity, fintech regulation, or AI in agriculture – transformation will be either uncoordinated or untrusted. Lawmakers who understand these technologies can help craft better policy, enabling innovation instead of stifling it through outdated or ambiguous laws.
The goal is not to turn MPs into programmers. But they must become digitally articulate. A structured, bipartisan training programme tailored for lawmakers could be a good place to start. So would partnerships with universities, think tanks, or even the National Assembly’s own research services. Even symbolic participation matters. If a few prominent MPs make it known that they are educating themselves on AI, it can help shift the tone of public discourse. It can signal that technology policy is not just for bureaucrats and IT professionals, but central to national competitiveness, sovereignty, and rights.
In many ways, AI is the new electricity – the invisible infrastructure powering everything from commerce to communication to conflict. But unlike electricity, AI also shapes our perceptions, decisions, and biases. A parliament that does not understand this cannot govern effectively. Worse, it cannot protect the people it claims to represent.
Pakistan is not too poor to think about AI. It is too vulnerable not to.
The writer is member (Punjab Assembly). She is a close aide of Maryam Nawaz and tweets at @hinaparvezbutt