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By:

Sagari Gupta

24 March 2026 at 7:46:04 pm

The Cost of Staying Vulnerable

Nepal’s $5 billion reconstruction bill exposes a wider economic failure: when governments repeatedly restore vulnerable assets instead of investing in resilience, natural hazards become recurring fiscal shocks. Nepal needs $4 billion to $5 billion to rebuild after floods triggered by a glacier collapse killed more than 600 people in Nepal and Tibet on August 26. That bill equals nearly a tenth of the country’s economy. The bigger question is what this bill represents. $5 billion is the cost...

The Cost of Staying Vulnerable

Nepal’s $5 billion reconstruction bill exposes a wider economic failure: when governments repeatedly restore vulnerable assets instead of investing in resilience, natural hazards become recurring fiscal shocks. Nepal needs $4 billion to $5 billion to rebuild after floods triggered by a glacier collapse killed more than 600 people in Nepal and Tibet on August 26. That bill equals nearly a tenth of the country’s economy. The bigger question is what this bill represents. $5 billion is the cost of replacing assets that already existed and were expected to generate value for years - roads that connected markets, bridges that carried trade, power stations that supported industry and homes that held household wealth. Nepal will spend billions restoring what it already had, rather than investing that money in what comes next. The scale of the economic damage depends on where people live, what gets built there, how rivers are managed, whether warning systems reach households and whether people have enough savings to survive an interruption in income. Assam offers the clearest lesson in this respect. Floods this year killed at least 99 people and displaced hundreds of thousands. Researchers from India, Sweden, the Netherlands, the UK and the US examined the rainfall data and found that it remained within historical norms. The floods intensified because of rapid urbanisation, deforestation, degraded wetlands and poor drainage, rather than because of a stronger monsoon. Then again, two districts can receive the same rainfall and still end up with very different losses. One may have functioning drainage, early-warning systems and insurance, while the other has none of these protections. For the second, a flood becomes an economic shock rather than simply a weather event. A farmer does not read a government estimate of aggregate losses. He or she loses a crop, still owes an agricultural loan and may go without income for weeks. A shopkeeper loses inventory, while a daily-wage worker loses earnings because there is no work. A family may have to sell a buffalo to buy food, and a child may miss school. Misleading Picture The GDP can also give a misleading picture of recovery. When a bridge collapses, rebuilding it creates construction activity as the government hires workers and purchases cement and steel, while public spending rises and GDP records that activity as growth. But the country, in fact, has spent money replacing an asset it already had. Nepal shows the scale of this trap. Its 2015 earthquake required an estimated $9 billion in reconstruction, close to half the country’s GDP at the time, according to Nepal’s Post Disaster Recovery Framework. Eleven years later, the country faces another multi-billion-dollar rebuild. A country that repeatedly reconstructs the same assets never accumulates new ones. The insurance gap shows who ultimately pays. Munich Re estimates that natural disasters caused close to $112 billion in economic losses worldwide in the first half of 2026, of which only $44 billion was insured, leaving a gap of 60 percent. Those uninsured losses simply move from one balance sheet to another. A wealthy household may lose a home but still have insurance, savings and access to credit with which to rebuild. A low-income family that loses the same physical asset may also lose its main store of wealth. The same flood therefore produces very different outcomes depending on income, making disaster risk a distributional issue as much as an environmental one. In India’s case, the problem is ‘disaster repetition.’ Assam already knows that it floods every monsoon, and that is the uncomfortable part policymakers continue to sidestep after every disaster season. The state spends heavily every year repairing the same roads, while agricultural income disappears at scale after each flood and households repeatedly borrow to recover. Public money therefore goes towards restoring assets that remain exposed to the same risks instead of redesigning them. A road that repeatedly washes away is a public-investment problem, not only a disaster-response problem. An embankment that repeatedly fails is a planning problem, while a household that falls into debt after every flood is a social-protection problem. Case for Prevention Prevention needs a stronger political case because adaptation still competes for a small share of development budgets. Nepal’s reconstruction bill, worth close to a tenth of its economy, makes that allocation harder to defend. Adaptation is infrastructure investment and fiscal planning but it is also poverty prevention. A bridge that does not collapse creates no headline, while a flood avoided through better drainage earns no minister political credit. That imbalance pushes governments towards visible responses over invisible prevention, even when prevention costs less. Not every disaster can be traced to climate change. The World Weather Attribution study on Assam rules it out directly for that event. The stronger, less comfortable conclusion is that physical hazards are colliding with development decisions: more people and more valuable assets are living in exposed areas, infrastructure is becoming more expensive and interconnected, poor households have limited savings and little insurance, and governments operate with finite fiscal space. The real cost of a disaster lies in the present and future ravages to the economy - the crop never harvested, the wages never earned, the unpaid loans and the public project that gets rebuilt instead of the next one getting built. The real test of policy is not how quickly a government announces relief but whether the same community has to again bear the brunt of the next flood. A disaster becomes a policy failure when governments keep paying for the same vulnerability instead of changing it. (The writer is an independent public policy researcher. Views personal.)

Imran Khan’s Fall from Grace

Updated: Oct 21, 2024

Imran Khan’s Fall from Grace

Imran Khan, once hailed as Pakistan’s most charismatic and resilient leader now finds himself in a position unprecedented for a man of his stature.

The former Prime Minister of Pakistan, once known for his unyielding spirit and fierce determination, now shows signs of strain. Imprisoned and facing numerous charges, Khan appears to be a shadow of the leader who once inspired millions.

Khan’s recent meeting with journalists revealed a man who is a shell of his former self. Once confident and commanding, his body now shows a sense of unease and agitation. Those who met him describe a waning spirit, a stark change for a leader once known for his steadfastness in adversity.

The journalists described Khan as a man who is aware that his political party, Pakistan Tehreek-e-Insaf (PTI), is losing its once-iron grip on the nation’s imagination―a realisation that visibly shook him.

The PTI, once a magnet for massive crowds and inspired loyalty among its supporters, is now struggling. The much-hyped rally scheduled for August 22 in Islamabad, was embarrassingly cancelled due to a lack of public interest. Khan, in a bid to save face, claimed that the rally was called off to avoid potential violence. In a sign of growing desperation, Khan rescheduled the rally for September 8 and directed his party leaders to overcome any obstacles. This defiant stance is typical of Khan’s confrontational style, and his public directives highlight his insecurity about his party’s ability to mobilise support.

While Khan outwardly appears calm and composed, the multiple cases against him and his time in jail have left him isolated and struggling with loneliness. Even in this difficult situation, he remains in the headlines, thanks to his uncanny ability to stay in the public’s eye. Khan recently made headlines by applying for the University of Oxford Chancellorship, a move initially dismissed as a rumor but confirmed by his spokesman, Sayed Zulfikar Bukhari. As an Oxford alumnus, Khan would be the first Asian to take the role. Many see this bid as a strategic play to leverage his international profile against Pakistan’s establishment, a move that has kept him prominently in the media spotlight.

The political landscape in Pakistan is deeply divided. Prime Minister Shahbaz Sharif, in his second term, has failed to address critical issues including unemployment, soaring inflation, and deteriorating law and order. His administration’s inability to deliver on its promises has only deepened the public’s disillusionment, leading to growing nostalgia for Khan’s past leadership.

Shahbaz Sharif’s government is a source of frustration for the Pakistani people and a cause for concern for the country’s military. Historically, the military has shaped Pakistan’s political trajectory, stepping in when civilian governments falter. The military reportedly is growing uneasy about the government’s performance especially Sharif’s inability to stabilize the country and mend relationships with key neighbors, particularly India. Additionally, its deteriorating ties with Afghanistan and Iran have left Pakistan increasingly isolated. Even China, Pakistan’s longstanding ally, has expressed dissatisfaction with the government’s policies, a worrying sign given the importance of the China-Pakistan Economic Corridor (CPEC) to the country’s economic future.

It is within this context of political turmoil and international isolation that Imran Khan remains a potent force. Despite his legal troubles and the challenges facing his party, Khan’s popularity endures. For millions of Pakistanis, his tenure as Prime Minister is seen as a time of relative stability and hope, a stark contrast to the current administration’s ineptitude. This perception has kept Khan’s political base intact, even as his party faces an uphill battle in the coming months.

However, Khan’s ability to navigate the current political landscape is far from guaranteed. The PTI’s diminishing support, coupled with the increasing pressure from the establishment, raises questions about Khan’s long-term strategy. His recent moves, including the application for the Oxford Chancellorship, suggest a leader willing to explore unconventional avenues to maintain his relevance. But whether these tactics will translate into a successful political comeback remains to be seen.

Pakistan’s political future is more uncertain than ever. Imran Khan’s journey from cricketing legend to political maverick has been extraordinary. Still, as he faces the toughest challenge of his career, the question remains: Can he once again defy the odds and reclaim his place at the helm of Pakistani politics, or is this the beginning of the end for a once unstoppable leader?

Khan’s story is a testament to the complexities of power and the unpredictable nature of political life in Pakistan. His rise, driven by charisma, populism, and a genuine desire for change, now faces the realities of personal and political challenges, raising the possibility that his time may be running out.

Imran Khan is a beacon of hope for his supporters, and a polarizing figure for detractors, whose ambitions have often clouded his judgment. As the nation watches, the world is left to wonder: What will Imran Khan’s next move be? And more importantly, what does it mean for the future of Pakistan? The coming months will be critical not only for Imran Khan but for Pakistan as a whole. The decisions made during this period will shape the country’s trajectory for years. Whether Khan emerges victorious or is consigned to the annals of history as a fallen leader, one thing is certain: The story of Imran Khan is far from over.

(The writer is a senior jounalist based in Islamabad. Views personal)

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