The worsening air crisis in Punjab is no longer only about environmental failure; it now carries the unmistakable stench of political evasion. In recent days, several of the government's air quality monitoring stations stopped reporting data during peak smog hours, leaving the public with convenient blanks on screens while independent monitors continued to show Lahore and Faisalabad climbing the global pollution charts. The explanation-a vague "technical glitch"- convinces no one. It is difficult to believe that machinery collapses precisely when the air becomes most toxic and then conveniently resumes once the worst readings have passed.
While residents coughed through the haze and social media filled with screenshots of dangerously high AQI numbers, government announcements focused instead on tree-planting drives, plantation targets, and "awareness campaigns." Isn't it an astonishing contrast to see citizens demanding breathable air when those at the helm respond with photo ops and hashtags? Lahore's AQI touched peaks above 500, Faisalabad surpassed it, and yet official messaging continued to celebrate cosmetic initiatives rather than confront the true dimensions of the crisis.
PM2.5 levels in Punjab routinely reach more than twenty times the World Health Organisation's safe limits. Research now shows air pollution is shaving nearly four years off average life expectancy in Pakistan, and for Lahore's residents, the loss approaches seven years; a staggering public health cost by any measure. Children now grow up inhaling toxins that previous generations never experienced, as hospitals report rising cases of respiratory illnesses during smog season, and schools are repeatedly forced to shut down because the air outside has become unfit for human lungs.
What makes these facts especially galling is that the solutions are well known. Yet instead of attacking the main polluting sectors (unregulated industries, furnace oil and coal-powered plants, diesel-heavy transport, brick kilns, and seasonal crop burning), the government appears interested in theatrics. Smog towers last year, water-misting fog cannons this year. Each cannon consumes extraordinary amounts of water at a time when Lahore's groundwater levels are dropping with alarming speed. Environmental experts have already cautioned that such measures merely push coarse dust to the ground for a short period while leaving the deadly PM2.5 particles circulating in the air. In some cases, they may even worsen the problem.
Meanwhile, enforcement remains selective. Inspectors aggressively fine trucks without tarpaulins and brick kilns on the periphery, yet the major polluters continue operating without meaningful scrutiny. This is the politics of pollution: obscure the data, choreograph activity for cameras, shift the burden onto citizens, and leave the mighty untouched.
The smog is not temporary. Our denial is-and it is costing lives. *