Breaking Gender Stereotypes

The Pakistan We Need to Build

Gender stereotypes in Pakistan are rarely announced as rules. They are usually passed down as expectations, advice, habits and assumptions. A girl is told to be “adjusting”; a boy is encouraged to be independent. A daughter is often expected to prioritize family responsibilities, while a son is more readily encouraged to build a career. A woman who is ambitious may be described as “too career-oriented”, while the same ambition in a man is celebrated as determination. These expectations may appear small when viewed individually, but collectively they influence education, employment, mobility, marriage, leadership and economic independence. Breaking gender stereotypes in Pakistan, therefore, is not simply about changing attitudes toward women. It is about removing the invisible boundaries that determine what women are expected to become.

The scale of Pakistan’s gender gap makes this conversation impossible to ignore. In the World Economic Forum’s Global Gender Gap Report 2025, Pakistan ranked 148th out of 148 economies, with an overall gender-parity score of 56.7%. The country’s score had reached 57.7% in 2023 but declined in the following two editions. Pakistan’s weakest area was Economic Participation and Opportunity, where it scored only 34.7%, placing it among the five lowest-performing economies globally on that dimension. The report also recorded educational parity at 85.1%, showing an important contradiction: Pakistani women and girls can make significant progress in education while that progress does not translate proportionately into economic opportunity and leadership.

The labour market illustrates this disconnect particularly clearly. According to the World Bank’s latest ILO-modelled estimates, in 2025 only 24% of Pakistani women aged 15–64 were participating in the labour force, compared with 80% of men. In other words, the female participation rate was less than one-third of the male rate. The same data places Pakistan below neighbouring Bangladesh, where female participation was about 39%, India at 32%, Sri Lanka at 31%, and Nepal at 27%. These numbers are not simply employment statistics. Behind them are millions of women whose education, skills, entrepreneurial potential and professional ambitions are not being fully converted into economic activity.

The problem becomes even more complicated when we ask what women are actually doing outside the formal labour market. Women’s absence from paid employment does not mean they are economically inactive. Pakistan’s care economy is enormous. The International Labour Organization reported in 2025 that approximately 117.4 million people in Pakistan are engaged in unpaid care and domestic work, of whom 66.7 million are women. UN Women reports that women and girls aged 10 and above spend 19.9% of their time on unpaid domestic and care work, compared with just 1.8% for men. This difference is one of the clearest examples of a gender stereotype becoming an economic structure: cooking, cleaning, childcare and caring for family members are treated as naturally “women’s responsibilities”, even though they are essential to the functioning of every household and economy.

The stereotype begins long before a woman enters the workplace. It starts with the different expectations placed on boys and girls during childhood. Boys are often encouraged to be confident, independent and financially ambitious, while girls may be encouraged to be careful, accommodating and family-oriented. Neither confidence nor family responsibility is inherently masculine or feminine. The problem arises when one set of characteristics is repeatedly rewarded in boys and another is repeatedly expected from girls. Over time, children internalize these expectations and begin limiting themselves even before society has explicitly limited them.

Education provides an important example. Pakistan has made substantial progress in women’s educational attainment, and the WEF’s 2025 report recorded the country’s educational gender-parity score at 85.1%. Yet educational achievement does not automatically lead to economic participation. A young woman can graduate from university, earn professional qualifications and develop valuable skills, only to leave the workforce after marriage because of childcare responsibilities, transportation concerns, workplace culture, family expectations or the belief that her husband’s income makes her career unnecessary. This is one of Pakistan’s greatest missed opportunities: investing in women’s education without creating the social and economic conditions that allow women to use that education.

The stereotype of the “good woman” is particularly powerful. Pakistani women are often praised for being self-sacrificing, patient and accommodating. These qualities can be positive when they are freely chosen, but they become restrictive when sacrifice is expected primarily from women. A woman who prioritizes her career may be asked who will look after her children. A man who works long hours is often described as hardworking and responsible; a woman doing the same may be questioned about her priorities. A father who takes his child to school may be praised for “helping”; a mother doing exactly the same work is simply expected to do it. These different standards are not merely linguistic differences. They shape who has time, mobility, income and freedom to pursue opportunities.

Political representation provides another measurable example. According to World Bank data sourced from the Inter-Parliamentary Union, women occupied 17% of seats in Pakistan’s national parliament in 2025, compared with a global average of 27.2%. Pakistan’s figure had been around 20.5% in 2022 and 2023 before falling to 17% in 2024 and 2025. Representation matters because political institutions influence laws, budgets and national priorities. When women remain underrepresented in decision-making, issues affecting women can receive less attention, and young women have fewer visible examples of themselves in positions of political authority.

But gender stereotypes are not limited to employment and politics. They also influence mobility and personal autonomy. A woman may be technically qualified for a position but unable to accept it because the workplace is too far from home. Another may have a business opportunity requiring travel but face objections because travelling alone is considered inappropriate. A third may have the financial ability to start a business but lack access to networks, finance or family support. These barriers are particularly significant because they often do not appear in official job descriptions or employment statistics. They exist in the space between what a woman is legally allowed to do and what she is socially permitted to do.

Safety is another major dimension. UN Women reports that 13.1% of ever-partnered Pakistani women aged 15–49 experienced physical and/or sexual violence by a current or former intimate partner during the previous 12 months in 2023. UN Women’s Pakistan data also records that 18.3% of women aged 20–24 had been married or in a union before the age of 18, based on the latest available indicator. These figures remind us that gender stereotypes are not merely about whether women are allowed to work or lead. They can be connected to much deeper questions of autonomy, safety and decision-making power.

Yet Pakistan’s story should not be reduced to statistics about inequality. Across the country, women are already breaking these stereotypes every day. They are running businesses, working in technology, practicing medicine, leading universities, serving in the military, entering politics, building startups, working in agriculture, creating media companies and establishing social enterprises. Women such as Jehan Ara have helped shape Pakistan’s technology ecosystem; Dr. Sania Nishtar has moved from medicine into national and global policy leadership; Roshaneh Zafar built a major institution around women’s financial inclusion; Seema Aziz combined entrepreneurship with large-scale educational development; Asma Jahangir used law to challenge powerful institutions; and Lieutenant General Nigar Johar became the first woman in Pakistan to reach the rank of Lieutenant General. Their stories demonstrate that the boundaries society places around women are neither natural nor permanent.

The significance of these women is not that they are extraordinary because they are women. That framing itself can become another stereotype. Their significance is that they demonstrate what happens when talent is allowed to develop. The real question should not be, “How did a woman manage to succeed in such a difficult field?” It should be, “How many more women could succeed if unnecessary barriers were removed?” Pakistan has a population of more than 240 million people and a very large young population. Excluding or underutilizing roughly half of that human capital is not only a gender issue; it is an economic development issue.

The private sector has a particularly important role to play. Companies cannot claim to support gender diversity simply by hiring more women at entry level. They must examine who reaches management, who receives promotions, who receives high-value assignments, who has access to mentors, and who remains in the workforce after marriage and motherhood. Flexible working arrangements, safe transportation, childcare support, maternity protection, transparent promotion criteria and equal opportunities can make a significant difference. The World Bank has repeatedly highlighted the importance of addressing restrictions and practical barriers that prevent women from participating fully in Pakistan’s economy.

Families, however, remain equally important. In Pakistani society, family support can determine whether a woman accepts a university admission, takes her first job, travels for work, starts a business or seeks a leadership position. A father who tells his daughter that her education matters is breaking a stereotype. A husband who shares childcare and household responsibilities is breaking a stereotype. A mother who encourages her daughter to become financially independent is breaking a stereotype. A father who teaches his son to cook, clean and care for family members is also breaking a stereotype. Gender equality is therefore not something that happens only in parliaments and corporate boardrooms. It begins at home.

Men must be part of this transformation. Gender equality cannot be achieved by asking women to become stronger while leaving the surrounding system unchanged. If women are expected to work full-time while continuing to perform almost all unpaid domestic responsibilities, the gender gap will remain. The fact that women spend 19.9% of their time on unpaid care and domestic work compared with 1.8% for men illustrates how dramatically responsibilities are distributed. The solution is not to devalue motherhood, caregiving or family. It is to recognize that these responsibilities belong to families and societies, not automatically to women.

There is also an important distinction between empowerment and prescription. Breaking gender stereotypes does not mean telling every Pakistani woman that she must become a CEO, politician or entrepreneur. A woman who chooses to dedicate herself to her family deserves respect. A woman who chooses a corporate career deserves respect. A woman who combines both deserves respect. A woman who works from home, runs a family business, becomes a doctor, joins the military or chooses a completely different path should have the freedom to make that choice. Equality is not about forcing women into one new model. It is about giving women genuine choices.

The biggest change Pakistan needs, therefore, is a movement from permission to partnership. Instead of asking whether a woman is “allowed” to work, study, travel or lead, families and institutions should ask what support she needs to succeed. Instead of questioning whether women can handle leadership, organizations should identify the most capable person for the role. Instead of treating childcare as a mother’s responsibility, parents should treat it as a shared responsibility. Instead of judging a woman’s ambition, society should ask whether that ambition can contribute to the country’s development.

The economic argument is compelling. If only 24% of women participate in the labour force while 80% of men do, Pakistan is leaving a vast amount of potential underused. If women perform almost twenty percent of their time in unpaid care work while men perform less than two percent, the economy is benefiting from a massive amount of invisible labour without adequately recognizing or supporting it. If women hold only 17% of parliamentary seats, half the population remains significantly underrepresented in national decision-making. These are not simply statistics about women. They are indicators of Pakistan’s untapped potential.

Breaking gender stereotypes is therefore not about rejecting Pakistani culture, family or values. It is about asking whether our understanding of those values can evolve. A society can value family while supporting women’s careers. It can respect motherhood while respecting professional ambition. It can preserve cultural identity while giving women greater economic independence. Tradition does not have to disappear for equality to advance.

The Pakistan of the future will need every capable mind, every entrepreneur, every professional, every researcher, every teacher, every doctor, every policymaker and every innovator it can develop. It cannot afford to tell half its population that their ambitions must remain within predetermined boundaries.

The ultimate goal should be simple: a Pakistani girl should be able to grow up believing that her future is something she can help design.

She should not have to choose between being respected and being ambitious.

She should not have to choose between family and achievement.

She should not have to apologize for wanting to lead.

And one day, perhaps the most meaningful sign of progress will be when a woman running a company, leading a hospital, commanding an institution, building a technology startup, practicing law, entering politics or creating a social enterprise is no longer described as “a woman breaking barriers.”

She will simply be described as a leader.

HerPlanet Perspective

Breaking gender stereotypes is ultimately about expanding the definition of possibility. Pakistan does not need women to become someone else. It needs a society in which women can become who they are capable of becoming. The statistics tell us how large the gap remains; the women already leading across Pakistan show us that the potential is real. The next challenge is to ensure that exceptional women are no longer exceptions.