One might describe Pakistan’s media environment as a surreal and uneven arena. The freedom of expression and democracy corner has a group of emaciated and disheveled defenders. They are in contention with a sinewy and prickly group representing authoritarian elites in the opposing corner. A noisy faction of social conservatives and extremists has placed its members all around the arena. Their job: yank the pen-pushers or the laptop warriors into the crowd and pummel the very life out of them.

Press freedom has long remained subject to abuse by the state and those in position of power in Pakistan. In a sense, the struggle against intolerance and dictatorial instincts is nothing new. The problem is that it has gotten way harder. And it is exacting a steep price. Sometimes, sadly, the price is paid in life. This has prompted media watchdogs across the globe to characterise Pakistan as the most dangerous place for journalists. Media scholars, too, have been focused on the attempts to constrain press freedom in Pakistan. The discourse among them is largely dominated by themes of assault on media – institutionalised intimidation, government hostility and, of course, the threat of incarceration.

How does print media in Pakistan square with the challenges against press freedom? Precisely how do editors and reporters align their sails to the shifting winds across the political domain? And then, there is the ever-present problem of self-censorship. Indeed, this phenomenon largely defines how journalists navigate some of the most daunting existential challenges. Changing economic realities impinge on journalistic integrity, reinforcing the notion of self-censorship as a survival mechanism. Self-restraint, argue media scholars, is lethal in that it snuffs out free expression before it is actually born – maybe not for the practitioners of journalism in Pakistan, at least for that select band of resolute men and women who have consistently pushed back at authoritarian decrees. There is an amazing layer of resilience it would seem.

Let’s try to imagine the eroding fortunes of print media in Pakistan against the background of some dramatic democratic backsliding of the last two years or so. Think of the ongoing predicament of Dawn, the country’s premier English-language newspaper. The financial loss it has incurred because of its challenging spirit is excessively punishing, not only for newspaper owners but also for journalists working for it. Its spirit, however, remains unbroken. The paper has been thrown into a crisis. It’s not a case of some maverick newspaper sticking its neck out. When you bludgeon a leading democratic paper, it has consequences. It damages democracy, transparency and, one could argue, accountability. The rulers may not realise it now, but it has worrying repercussions for the rule of law, the justice system, governance and, definitely, for the business environment. A freer media acts like a huge green signal to foreign investments. In the past publications like Herald, Newsline, The Friday Times, The Frontier Post and Nawa-i-Waqt simply refused to bend unlike the situation in Singapore or Gulf states.

Like elsewhere, print media has been under intense pressure from the electronic media and digital media in recent years. Electronic media is a money-spinner, and it attracts eyeballs. Its standards of professionalism are still evolving, and sometimes become the focus of sharp critique. Critics argue that because of its propensity for sensationalism and its driving cutthroat culture of competition and sound bites, it has gotten into a race to the bottom. Conscientious citizens worry that a shrill electronic media has pushed Pakistan into an era of shouting heads. People are regularly stopped in mid-sentence, and Urdu language is more often than not given a short shrift.

Print media is also suffering on another count. The youth are not inclined to pick up a physical newspaper and read it. If a young man or a woman were to be asked about the last time they read a newspaper, a typical response would be a shrug of the shoulders. So here is the situation: newspapers are confronted with a sharply declining circulation base; their advertisement revenues have suffered a squeeze; and threats to their existence have multiplied through state and non-state actors. We often find newspaper owners and publishers giving preference to their broader business interests. This means soft-pedaling their criticism of the ruling elites through their newspapers because they want to duck the risk of retribution.

A phenomenon known as clientalism also permeates Pakistan’s political and social organisations. This is an environment in which patronage firmly connects social and political actors to the state. In the media sector particularly, clientalism manifests itself when owners use their influence to leverage economic power. The cost of such a focus is the decline of professional standards. The owners are mostly not focused on the training of journalists working for them.

Unlike electronic media, newspapers and magazines have a disproportionate dependence on government ads. Government wields enormous powers to impact the news through press regulations, laws and issuance of licences and advertisement quotas. All these powers severely constrain the autonomy of the press. If examined closely, these powers enable the Establishment to effectively leverage and promote media dependency on the state’s resources. This has meant a never-ending vicious circle for the country’s print media. With the country’s private sector not yet ready to supplant government ads as the essential financial lifeline, newspapers have to tread carefully along the road to press freedom.

Media scholars argue that press freedom has also suffered from a lack of judicial autonomy in Pakistan. Intrepid investigative reporters need a protective umbrella, and who better to provide them this than judges. There has to be a strong symbiosis between judges and reporters. It is incredible that newspaper reporters are still intent on chasing hard news and risk much in doing this. But they are not operating under the assumption that their colleagues, editors, publications and judges would provide support or protection. Nient it is for the free press to remain the oxygen of all freedoms, judges and reporters have to walk together.

As a society we would do well to understand that there is a steep price to be paid for reducing press freedom, however convenient it might be for the state and an illiberal and errant democracy such as ours. Pakistan’s rulers need to yield the scrutiny of their authority to a free press.