Last week, a hailstorm tore through Islamabad with such intensity that it shattered the windshields of cars, blasted holes in rooftop solar panels, and transformed entire neighbourhoods into ice-topped disaster areas.
To most, it was just another incidence of bizarre or freakish weather. However, this extreme weather was no anomaly; it was yet another alarming chapter in Pakistan’s worsening environmental crisis.
Here is where the idea of green criminology comes into play. It shifts the focus of law from an anthropocentric approach to one which caters to our entire ecosystem. Many of its advocates have recognized that environmental harms— such as pollution and deforestation— are among the gravest threats to human existence. Yet these threats are overlooked by our legal frameworks and justice systems, which are still preoccupied with street crime and interpersonal violence.
It is imperative to look beyond the existing definitions of crime, and to include corporate and state actions that may be technically “legal” but inflict catastrophic and long-term harm on human populations and ecosystems. Various industries exist within lawful compliance but perpetrate great injury to air, water, environments, and health; industrial farming and coal mining being a perfect case in point. These green crimes are often hidden behind bureaucratic processes, normalized as “development,” or excused as an economic necessity.
In Pakistan, this is painfully evident. Rivers are left contaminated with industrial waste. Cities and villages without access to clean water. Forests and mountains deconstructed under the guise of development. Corporations pay little price, and public authorities intervene seldom unless there is a media scandal. The day-to-day suffering of the people— particularly the poor— continues to go unnoticed.
This has been labelled as green victimization by academics. It also exposes the manner in which dominant actors control what crime itself means. Crime is not an etched-in-stone category. Rather, it is constructed socially. What gets defined as criminal, frequently mirrors who exercises power. Those crimes done in the boardrooms and government ministries are routinely ignored, but those done on the streets get mercilessly punished.
It’s time that we redefine our concept of justice. Destruction of the environment is not a technical failure or an unfortunate side-effect. It is usually the result of conscious choices— by governments, corporations, and systems. It is not an accident. It is a crime. And until Pakistan begins to accept it as one, both humans and the earth will continue to suffer.
A glaring illustration of this is within the international agriculture sector, where common practices harming animals, labourers, and the environment are legally safeguarded. Legislations such as “ag-gag” laws in the USA and Canada, which prohibit the undercover filming of activity on farms, only serve to protect corporate secrecy.
This is not characteristic of the West alone. In Pakistan, land developers and corporations are given the liberty to destroy landscapes and displace populations. This becomes particularly disturbing in the matter of water. Water pollution is both a constant reality and a deep injustice. In Pakistan, clean drinking water is becoming a privilege rather than a right. When the state permits— or facilitates— the pollution of public water, it is breaching its responsibility under the doctrine of public trust, which dictates that essential natural resources should be preserved for the benefit of all.
This is not merely an environmental problem. It’s a human rights problem.
We don’t need to look far to realize the stakes. Globally, underprivileged and indigenous communities are the first and worst affected by environmental injustice. From the water poisoning crisis in Flint, to oil pollution in the Amazon and boil-water advisories in First Nations in Canada, the trend is unmistakable: those with the least control bear the most risk, often for the gain of those with the most.
Pakistan is no different. They live in rural and slum areas alongside chemical-filled drains, with no clean water, no trees, and with increasing temperatures that transform houses into ovens. They don’t have a recognized status as victims of crime in the traditional legal system.
It’s time that we redefine our concept of justice. Destruction of the environment is not a technical failure or an unfortunate side-effect. It is usually the result of conscious choices— by governments, corporations, and systems. It is not an accident. It is a crime. And until Pakistan begins to accept it as one, both humans and the earth will continue to suffer.
