Good governance at zero cost

Governance Nearer To People
Dr Nadeem Jan

Pakistan has no shortage of governance prescriptions. We debate new provinces, empowered local governments, administrative devolution, civil-service reform, institutional restructuring and constitutional engineering. Each has its place. But beneath these structural questions lies a more fundamental one:

Who will run these institutions—and on what basis will they be chosen?

Pakistan’s most consequential reform may not require another constitutional amendment, another ministry or an expensive programme. It may require something much simpler, and infinitely more difficult:The political will to let merit reign.

By merit, I mean more than academic qualification. It is the combination of competence, integrity, judgement, experience and the demonstrated capacity to deliver.

The principle is simple: put the best available person in the right place, irrespective of political affiliation, family connections, lobbying or patronage.

The cost is virtually zero. The potential returns are enormous.

The country has capable professionals across every field. The problem often begins before an institution starts functioning: who is appointed, who is promoted, who is transferred and who is protected. When political loyalty repeatedly outranks professional competence, the incentive structure of the state is inverted. The capable become disillusioned; the connected become confident; and institutions learn to reward conformity rather than performance.

Eventually, the system selects people who become good at navigating one’s agenda rather than the state’s. That is institutional decay in slow motion. Meritocracy does not mean removing politics from government. Elected governments must set priorities and exercise political judgement. But political direction and administrative competence are not the same thing. Prime Minister sets what the government wants to achieve; competent professionals must execute it. A political leader therefore does not need every official to be a political loyalist.

What is needed is a professional who is competent, honest, decisive and committed to the public interest.

The politician should own the agenda. The professional should own the execution.

The Qur’anic account of Prophet Yusuf offers a remarkably concise doctrine of public responsibility. When seeking responsibility over Egypt’s storehouses, Yusuf identifies knowledge and trustworthiness—competence and integrity. The early Islamic tradition provides a further illustration.

Caliph Umar ibn al-Khattab was known for scrutinising governors and holding officials accountable. The underlying philosophy was clear: public office was a sacred trust, not personal property. The principle remains powerful: authority carries responsibility, status does not confer immunity, and that public office exists for the public.

That principle has renewed relevance in a modern Muslim democracy as well. South Korea’s case is instructive.

In the early 1960s, it faced poverty, weak institutions and a bureaucracy affected by corruption and patronage. It progressively strengthened competitive recruitment, professional administration and merit-based advancement.

Merit did not by itself create Korea’s economic miracle, but it helped create a bureaucracy capable of translating political ambition into policy execution. Singapore similarly placed exceptional emphasis on integrity, competence and meritocracy in the cabinet and bureaucracy. Pakistan does not necessarily have to look abroad to understand the proposition.

There is a past example from the Federal Board of Revenue in the 2000s. During a reform period, key positions in Customs and Income Tax were subjected to a merit-based selection process, with selected officials receiving double than usual salary.

According to Dr Ishrat Husain, highly capable officers were selected as “Regional Tax Officers”and it paid off in generating additional revenues. After the change of government in 2008, however, officials who had not been selected appealed to politicians. The differentiated compensation system was subsequently extended more broadly, irrespective of merit or performance, weakening the earlier incentive structure.

The lesson is compelling: merit can produce results; patronage can undo them.

Pakistan does not lack capable people, nor deficient in committed ones. The missing link is the “political will” to protect merit from political pressure. A competent person placed in charge of a failing institution can produce visible results. A capable administrator can improve service delivery and restore credibility.

Patronage may create immediate political benefits. Merit can create something much more valuable: institutional performance that strengthens the legitimacy of the government itself. The choice is between short-term patronage and long-term political capital.

Merit costs virtually nothing. Choosing a competent person costs no more than choosing an incompetent one. It can even save money by reducing waste and improving execution.

Yet,merit can be politically expensive. A recommendation may have to be rejected, a loyalist bypassed or a relative told no. This is why merit is fundamentally a political-will problem, not a resource problem.

Making that choice requires courage, wisdom and an unflinching commitment to the state.

Let unconventional actions replace the decadent obstructive procedures.

First, the government should establish a doctrine: political loyalty may determine political representation, but competence must determine responsibility for execution.

Second, major appointments should follow transparent professional standards and a measurable performance compact.

Third, professional institutions need reasonable protection from arbitrary interference, political manipulations and rent seeking attitude. Fourth, political parties should consider a national merit compact—an understanding that bureaucratic, professional and technical positions will not be viewed through a political lens.

Finally, citizens and the media should change the metric of political success. Instead of asking , “Who received the position?”, we should be asking:

“What did that person deliver?, worth, history & achievments” Results must have the final word.

We may aim for Reforming the structure—but we must start with reforming the culture first. This is particularly relevant to the debate over provinces and local governments. Pakistan may well benefit from smaller, more empowered administrative units and genuinely autonomous local governments. But decentralising power without changing the culture of appointments risks merely decentralising patronage.

A new province or powerful local government can reproduce the old weaknesses. More institutions do not automatically produce better governance.

Devolution determines where power resides. Merit determines whether that power produces results.

Pakistan should continue debating structural reform. But we should not mistake institutional architecture for institutional performance.

A state changes when, someone with the authority decides to appoint the capable person over the connected person; the honest person over the pliable person; the performer over the defender of the status quo; results over sloganeering; and public respect over self-congratulatory tik-talk videos or reels. Much relevant is an old truth: you can fool some people all the time, and all people some of the time, but you cannot fool all people all the time.

Citizens ultimately judge governments by what they experience—not merely by what they are shown or incessantly told. That requires political courage as 1st step , which can in turn create a virtuous cycle. Merit creates competence.Competence creates delivery.

Delivery creates public trust.Public trust creates political capital.

And political capital creates the avenues for a stable, prosperous and dignified state.

This is how governance becomes transformational rather than cosmetic.

Pakistan does not need to choose between merit and structural reform. It needs both. But without merit, even the most elegant institutional design can become an expensive façade. The cheapest reform is ,therefore, not necessarily the easiest.

Its price is not measured in rupees, but in the willingness of those in power to deploy it for the state rather than personal’s ambitions.

Perhaps Pakistan’s most consequential governance revolution could begin with a decision that requires neither legislation nor money, its ; Put the best person- in substance —in the right place.

—The write is former federal health minister.

 

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