There is no greater betrayal of society than when the very institution created to protect the public becomes, wittingly or unwittingly, a conduit through which criminals are empowered. Pakistan’s criminal justice system is not failing because prosecutors are incompetent or because the laws are weak; it is failing because a growing culture of judicial over-leniency has created a system-wide crisis. What should have been a shield for the innocent has, in too many instances, become a refuge for the guilty. The public sees this, the legal community whispers it, and victims endure it.
Muhammad Arif
Across various appellate forums, a disturbing pattern has taken root. Criminal appeals that trial courts decide after months or years of rigorous proceedings are sometimes overturned with a speed and softness that defy the gravity of the offences involved. Lawyers, prosecutors, and stakeholders increasingly observe that certain courtrooms appear to apply the doctrine of excessive benefit of doubt, expanding minor weaknesses into grounds for full acquittal. As a result, offenders convicted after full trials—robbers, killers, extortionists, and repeat offenders—walk free on interpretations that seem disconnected from the factual record.
These observations, shared by many within the legal fraternity, do not target any individual judge. They reflect a systemic concern: that pockets of the appellate process may have drifted too far from the balance between the rights of the accused and the safety of society. The perception that some appellate practices are overly indulgent has created unease, not because acquittals themselves are wrong, but because the pattern and frequency of such outcomes in some benches raise legitimate questions about whether justice is being served or undermined.
That said, it is equally important to acknowledge another truth: even within the present, distorted form of constitutional governance—where courts often appear constrained by executive overreach—there remain many judges who uphold the rule of law with integrity and courage. Despite the pressures of politics, bureaucracy, and power, these judges take principled stands, deliver justice impartially, and protect fundamental rights without fear or favour. Their presence is the reason the judiciary still retains whatever moral authority it has left. They are a reminder that the system is not beyond repair—only in need of protection from the internal trends that threaten its credibility.
Yet, despite their integrity, the broader concern persists. Lawyers frequently report hearings where, from the very first question, it becomes clear that the court is not engaging with the prosecution’s case with the same seriousness applied by the trial court. Instead of impartial scrutiny, appellate proceedings sometimes project an air of predetermined leniency—where weaknesses are magnified, evidence is second-guessed, and interpretive generosity overwhelmingly favours the accused. While such impressions may not reflect intent, they undeniably shatter public confidence.
When appellate judgments overturn years of trial-court work within minutes—without detailed reasoning, without acknowledging the full weight of the prosecution’s effort, and without the discipline expected at the appellate tier—it sends a demoralizing message. It suggests, fairly or unfairly, that trial courts and district courts are expendable layers whose decisions can be nullified without due consideration. This perception is corrosive: it diminishes institutional respect, discourages diligence, and undermines faith in the justice process from bottom to top.
These concerns are not about judicial independence, which is indispensable. They are about judicial responsibility, which is equally indispensable. Independence cannot mean insulation from scrutiny. Nor can discretion mean detachment from consequences. When appellate decisions repeatedly overturn convictions on extremely narrow or contestable grounds, the result is more than a legal anomaly—it is a public-safety risk.
Let us speak plainly: acquittals have consequences. Every time an offender is released on reasoning that does not command broad legal confidence, society absorbs the risk. An innocent family loses peace. A witness wonders why he ever came forward. A police officer feels betrayed for risking his life. And a criminal walks away emboldened—not only because he escaped justice, but because he believes he can do so again.
When such outcomes repeat often enough, the message spreads like poison. Police lose morale. Victims lose hope. Criminals gain confidence. Society abandons faith in the courts. And as that trust decays, people begin to rely on extra-legal methods of protection and retaliation—not out of barbarism, but out of desperation. That is how vigilante tendencies rise—not because the public prefers violence, but because institutions create a vacuum where lawful justice should have prevailed.
Deterrence, which is essential for any functioning society, collapses when offenders believe that certain appellate forums will inevitably favour them. When criminals start planning their legal strategies around specific benches rather than the strength of their defence, the rule of law becomes a matter of personality rather than principle. Justice becomes unpredictable, uneven, and inequitable.
Pakistan cannot afford a judicial culture that treats acquittals as a default setting in cases where evidence, procedure, and trial-court scrutiny are already sound. Nor can we afford a system where the appellate tier becomes so indulgent that it inadvertently weakens the entire security architecture. Appellate courts exist to correct injustice—not to routinely nullify the labour of those below them.
A judge’s pen must protect the innocent, not unintentionally arm the guilty. Judicial leniency must serve justice, not subvert it.
When leniency transforms into permissiveness, when doubts are invented rather than found, and when appellate outcomes repeatedly contradict trial-court findings without compelling justification, the justice system does not merely weaken—it endangers the very society it was built to protect.
Justice must not only be done. Justice must be believable, consistent, worthy of trust, and seen to have been done. Judges’ performance should be assessed across a wide spectrum of KPIs—including quality of judgments and efficiency—but never at the cost of justice itself. Equally important is the amicable settlement of issues where appropriate, to bring litigation to meaningful closure.
Selected key decisions of each judge must be evaluated by a panel at the Supreme Judicial Council on a regular basis to ensure consistency, integrity, and competence. Such review is essential to elevate capable and honest judges—and to remove those whose performance, conduct, or reasoning falls below the standards the Constitution demands. Only then will Pakistan’s justice system regain the confidence of the people it is sworn to serve.
Opinions expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect WNAM’s editorial policy.
The author writes on current affairs relating to law, governance, and institutional reform with a focus on accelerating justice delivery and strengthening public-sector accountability. Drawing from decades of experience in Pakistan’s energy, regulatory, and legal sectors, he advocates evidence-based, citizen-centered solutions for systemic improvement. He can be reached at 0333-5191381; [email protected]
