The hidden corruption inside Pakistan's advertising business

Why Pakistan has only one advertising reporter

Muzamil opens by asking why, in an industry as critical as advertising, only one reporter covers it seriously. Babar explains the structural problem. Most media companies in Pakistan own both TV channels and publications, making advertising their primary revenue stream. This dependency creates an invisible wall. “If your business model is tied to advertising,” Babar says, “it’s in your best interest not to upset advertisers.”

Media agencies occupy the middle, holding power over both publishers and brands. When Babar writes about media agencies themselves, he often receives phone calls demanding he delete or edit stories. Publishers and broadcasters stay quiet because they need the advertising dollars. This silence leaves the entire system unchecked.

The anatomy of a media agency’s power

Babar’s path into this beat reveals why no one else covers it. He studied marketing at FAST Islamabad, then worked in BTL agencies before co-founding Sociality 360, a digital agency. He later moved into brand roles and agency roles, finally pivoting into journalism through a PR position that gave him credibility with reporters. Express Tribune rejected him despite his tech writing because he lacked a degree in mass communications. That gatekeeping is exactly the problem he now exposes.

At Profit magazine, Babar covers the agencies themselves, not just their clients. This is dangerous work. “When a media agency calls you to say you’ve written about me,” he explains, “that’s uncomfortable.” Yet the industry is shocked that one person holds this beat. It reflects how thoroughly media agencies control the narrative.

The profit incentive that silences publishers

“Publishers and broadcasters,” Babar says, “most of their business model is tied to advertising.” This dependency means a publication will never investigate its own funders. The consumer, in this model, becomes the product. Readers expect free content supported by ads, but that means the publication’s true customer is the advertiser, not the reader. Publications then pander to advertisers’ interests, not readers’ interests.

Babar witnessed this dynamic early in his career. A real estate developer hired a media agency to suppress a story Babar had written. The agency called with demands to delete or edit it. The pressure was relentless. It revealed how thoroughly advertisers can shape what gets reported.

Building a sustainable publication

Profit magazine breaks this pattern. “Alhamdulillah, it’s very profitable,” Babar notes. The magazine has diversified revenue: subscriptions, advertising from banks and FMCGs, and Babar’s own premium Substack newsletter charging for detailed industry insights. This diversification protects editorial independence.

Profit’s audience is primarily board members and senior executives of large companies. “Our majority readership is on the board of directors,” Babar says. The magazine charges 3,000 rupees annually, roughly the cost of a shirt, yet delivers serious business journalism. When Profit publishes something, decision-makers at the top see it. This reach lets Babar hold agencies accountable in a way mass-market publications cannot.

The Amazon story as proof

When Amazon announced it would enter Pakistan’s e-commerce market, the Ministry of Commerce promoted it as salvation. Babar investigated what this actually meant. He found that Pakistan’s exports from 2016 to 2019 didn’t exceed what Amazon would make in a single quarter from its export-based marketing alone. He calculated the margin Amazon would extract through its FBA program and found sellers keeping roughly a dollar on a 100-dollar product after shipping costs.

The deeper issue: Pakistani companies are not agile enough to work with Amazon. “When Amazon sends a notification that you’ve done this thing wrong,” Babar explains, “they want a response in 24 hours. Decisions in Pakistani companies take 72 hours.” By then, the account is killed. Amazon doesn’t care about your connections or your father. Speed is what Amazon demands, and Pakistani companies can’t deliver it.

Growth versus margins

Babar’s journalism reflects a principle ignored across Pakistani business: margins matter more than growth. “BuzzFeed was free, the consumer was the product,” Babar says of the media landscape around 2012. BuzzFeed today is in losses, laying off staff. The New York Times, building subscriber revenue, is sustaining. The graph of easy returns is a downward spiral. The graph of quality and margins is slow but exponential.

This principle applies everywhere. Companies like WeWork and Uber focused on growth at the expense of profitability until investors demanded change. Profit magazine focused on margins from the start. “We’re focusing on margins, not on growth,” Babar says. The companies failing miserably are those that kept borrowing to accelerate growth. When you focus on margins, things take off.

Influencer marketing and ad fraud

The influencer space in Pakistan is broken. Creators charge for reach, not results. Agencies don’t track ROI. A brand manager sees impressions and engagement but not sales. “If you go to them and you say I can double your sales,” Babar explains, “in their brain what’s actually happening is that I’m affecting their impressions and views and share of voice,” not sales.

Worse, influencer marketing has become a vehicle for ad fraud. Click injection fraud, fake reviews, and fake engagement are becoming businesses themselves. Babar has written about a Chinese company making a billion-dollar business out of faking app downloads. Pakistani industrialists have looked at these fraud schemes and seen opportunity.

Accountability and regulation

Regulation is coming. But Pakistani regulation often creates more problems. License-based approaches just hand control to people in power. Babar advocates for regulation that hurts wrongdoers financially. “It has to hurt them,” he says. If someone makes 2,500 dollars through fraud, an eighty-percent fine would motivate compliance. Pakistan’s Competition Commission fines are so small that large businesses make that money every minute.

The path forward: niche over mass

Babar’s final advice to journalists and creators is counterintuitive: don’t chase the masses. Build a map of every industry in Pakistan and find one with no coverage. Leather industry. Sialkot. Someone should cover that dedicatedly. That niche audience, exporting globally, desperately wants representation. When Profit published an article about Utopia Industries, which makes 400 million dollars annually from Amazon but is ignored by every Pakistani publication, the site nearly crashed. A whole community saw themselves reflected.

“Go after niche audiences,” Babar insists. “In the long run it’ll be very valuable as opposed to going after the masses.” His own bank account proves it.

Systemic change starts with accountability

Until the Competition Commission of Pakistan, SECP, and FIA start paying attention to advertising and media industry dynamics, someone has to. That’s what Babar is doing. He’s driving investment in the space. When GroupM, the largest media agency in Pakistan, launched its own influencer platform after Babar’s reporting, it was a sign of systemic change. Agencies are now investing in sophistication because they see the revenue opportunity Babar has documented.

The path forward requires three things: government oversight that actually punishes wrongdoing, consumer protection that matches international standards, and business journalists willing to investigate even when the subject makes them uncomfortable. Profit magazine shows the path. It’s profitable. It’s accountable. And it’s changing an industry one investigation at a time.