Social Evils: When Society Begins to Fracture

Credit By: DR ZULFI SAMAD

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• 19 Apr 2026

A society survives not by preserving appearances, but by confronting decay with honesty

Kashmir has long been celebrated for its poetry, hospitality, spiritual depth and resilient social fabric. Yet beneath this civilizational grace, the Valley today faces a painful internal crisis that is receiving far less serious public attention than it deserves. 

The spread of substance abuse, domestic violence, rising youth delinquency, moral fatigue, and a gradual erosion of social accountability are no longer isolated concerns. They are social evils growing in silence, inside homes, neighbourhoods, schools and institutions. If left unattended, they can wound society as deeply as any political or economic upheaval.

It is too easy to speak about these problems in moral terms alone. Sermons against drugs, outrage after shocking crimes, or routine appeals for “better values” may offer momentary relief, but they do not explain why social evils take root. To understand and curb them, Kashmir needs not only policing and punishment but also a serious sociological understanding of how communities weaken, how frustration turns inward, and how stigma deepens decay.

The first sociological lens that helps us understand the Valley’s predicament comes from Clifford Shaw and Henry McKay, known for the theory of social disorganisation. They argued that deviance grows where communities lose their capacity for informal social control, where neighbourhood institutions, family supervision, trust and shared norms become weak. This is strikingly relevant to Kashmir.

Economic distress, anxiety, family pressure and the breakdown of older cultural structures have reduced the ability of local mohallas to guide young people. In many places, elders no longer command the moral authority they once did, and social shame no longer works as a deterrent in the same way. When society becomes disorganised, the vacuum is often filled by drugs, aggression, escapism and predatory behaviour.

A second important explanation comes from Robert K. Merton’s strain theory. Merton argued that deviance emerges when society encourages people to chase success, dignity and status, but denies many of them legitimate means to achieve these goals. The result is frustration, retreatism, rebellion or unethical adaptation. 

Later, Robert Agnew expanded this into General Strain Theory, showing that strain is not only about poverty or ambition, but also about humiliation, trauma, family conflict and exposure to painful experiences. This again resonates deeply with Kashmir. 

Many young people grow up with aspirations shaped by modern education, social media and competitive public culture, but confront unemployment, uncertainty, emotional distress and a shrinking sense of control over their future. In such conditions, drug use becomes an escape, violence becomes an outlet, and deviant peer circles become a substitute for purpose.

Another sociologist whose work deserves attention is Howard Becker, a leading figure in labeling theory. Becker argued that deviance is not simply about an act itself, but also about how society labels the individual. Once a person is branded an “addict,” “criminal,” or “bad character,” that label can harden identity and push the person deeper into exclusion. 

This is one of Kashmir’s major failures. Families often hide addiction because of shame. Victims of domestic violence stay silent because they fear dishonour. Troubled youth are often condemned before they are counselled. A society that stigmatises before it rehabilitates creates repeat offenders instead of recovery.

Then comes Travis Hirschi’s social control theory, which emphasises that people stay away from deviance when they remain strongly bonded to family, school, work and moral belief systems. Hirschi identified attachment, commitment, involvement and belief as the social bonds that keep individuals aligned with accepted norms. 

This insight is crucial for Kashmir. Whenever homes become emotionally distant, schools become mechanical, religious teaching becomes ritual without ethical depth, and public life offers no meaningful engagement for youth, the bonds that prevent deviance begin to loosen. The answer, therefore, is not merely stricter law enforcement, but a stronger human connection.

Modern sociology adds another powerful idea through Robert Sampson’s concept of collective efficacy, the shared willingness of neighbours and communities to act for the common good. Communities with strong trust and readiness to intervene tend to experience less violence and disorder. 

Kashmir once possessed such collective strength in abundance. Villages and urban localities used to function as living moral communities. Today, however, many people prefer private concern over public responsibility. Everybody complains about drugs, vulgarity or social decline, but too few build neighbourhood systems to check them. Silence has become one of the Valley’s most dangerous habits.

These theories point to one central truth: social evils do not emerge in a vacuum. They grow where despair meets social neglect. Substance abuse, for instance, cannot be treated merely as a criminal issue. Public-health scholarship increasingly stresses that violence and addiction must be tackled through prevention, community risk reduction, treatment access and long-term rehabilitation—not only through punishment. 

Kashmir Valley urgently needs this approach. The young person trapped in addiction needs medical help, family support, counselling, spiritual restoration and dignified reintegration. Raids alone will not solve what untreated pain has created.

Domestic violence, too, remains one of the most hidden social evils in the Valley. It survives because patriarchy often disguises cruelty as authority and because community pressure frequently protects family image over women’s safety. Economic strain, emotional frustration, substance abuse and learned aggression all feed violence inside homes. 

Here again, sociology offers a remedy: strengthen support systems, reduce stigma around reporting, involve local institutions, and build community norms that treat abuse as shameful, not survivable. A society that asks women to endure violence for the sake of honour is not preserving culture; it is corrupting it.

What then should Kashmir do?

First, families must be rebuilt as moral and emotional institutions, not merely social units. Parents need to listen more, supervise better, and recognise psychological distress early.

Second, schools and colleges must go beyond syllabus-driven education. They should include counselling, debates on ethics, addiction awareness, gender sensitisation, and structured youth engagement.

Third, religious leaders must play a deeper reformist role. Their sermons should address drug abuse, dowry, domestic violence, online obscenity, and the duty of compassion toward the socially wounded.

Fourth, mohalla committees, civil society groups and local bodies should revive community vigilance. Collective efficacy is not an abstract idea; it means neighbours caring enough to intervene before a child is lost.

Fifth, the administration must expand de-addiction, mental health and rehabilitation services, especially for young people. Without accessible treatment and follow-up support, many families remain trapped in secrecy and helplessness.

Finally, Kashmir must stop treating social evils as somebody else’s problem. The addict is not outside society. The abuser is not born in isolation. The delinquent youth is often the product of broken structures that adults failed to repair.

A society survives not by preserving appearances, but by confronting decay with honesty. If the Valley wishes to protect its future, it must heal its homes, recover its community conscience, and replace silence with collective moral action.

The fight against social evils in Kashmir is, in the end, not just about law or policy. It is about restoring society’s ability to care, correct and rehabilitate before alienation turns into collapse.

(The Author is an assistant professor and columnist)