New sociology of economic insecurity
Bangladesh is routinely praised as one of South Asia’s fastest-growing economies.
Over two decades, it has made real gains in poverty reduction, infrastructure, exports and digital transformation – the World Bank puts the economy at roughly US$456 billion in 2025, with per capita GDP near US$2,600.
These are genuine achievements. But beneath the headline numbers, a different reality is emerging: economic insecurity is spreading, no longer confined to people with low incomes.
It now touches the middle class, salaried employees, small business owners and educated youth alike.
Understanding this shift needs more than economics – it needs sociology.
Karl Polanyi’s “The Great Transformation” (1944) offers a useful starting point.
Polanyi argued that when markets grow more powerful than the social institutions meant to contain them, ordinary livelihoods become precarious; the economy, he insisted, should remain embedded in society rather than the reverse.
Much of Bangladesh’s experience echoes this warning: growth has opened opportunities even as it exposes households to inflation, unstable employment, climate shocks and global disruptions.
The data bear this out. The World Bank’s “Bangladesh Development Update” (April 2026) recorded a rise in the national poverty rate from 18.7 per cent in 2022 to 21.4 per cent in 2025 – about 1.4 million people pushed back into poverty, even as growth slowed under high inflation, weak private investment and softer domestic demand. Growth, in other words, is no longer a reliable proxy for security.
Employment itself is changing shape. The old certainty of a permanent job has given way to contract work, outsourcing and platform gigs – income without security.
The International LabourOrganisation estimates that over 85 per cent of Bangladesh’s workforce remains in the informal economy, largely without pensions, unemployment cover, paid leave or job protection. Millions are employed, yet economically exposed.
Guy Standing’s concept of the “precariat,” from his 2011 book “The Precariat,” captures this well: a class with jobs but without stability, security or protection. Bangladesh is visibly growing such a class.
Graduates cycle through years of exam preparation or short-term postings; even skilled professionals live with the anxiety of restructuring. The result is a generation deferring marriage and long-term planning.
Inflation compounds the problem. Bangladesh Bureau of Statistics figures show average inflation above 9 per cent through much of 2025 and early 2026, with food inflation higher still.
Wages have risen in places, but not fast enough to match food, housing, healthcare, education, transport and utility costs.
Families can often meet monthly expenses but can no longer build a cushion – so a single illness, job loss or disaster can tip them into crisis.
Ulrich Beck’s “Risk Society” (1992) helps explain why this feels so pervasive: modern development generates its own risks – climate change, supply-chain disruption, energy price swings, technological upheaval, conflict – that citizens cannot control but must absorb.
In July 2026, the IMF warned that persistent inflation, banking-sector fragility and external uncertainty could slow Bangladesh’s recovery further.
Climate change adds another layer. As one of the world’s most climate-vulnerable countries, Bangladesh continues to see floods, river erosion, cyclones and erratic rainfall erode rural livelihoods.
Displaced families migrate to cities, mostly into low-wage informal work – environmental vulnerability steadily converting into economic vulnerability.
The digital economy presents its own paradox. Bangladesh has become a global leader in online freelancing, generating real opportunity for young workers – yet most platform workers lack health insurance, pensions, paid leave or legal protection, their earnings hinging on market demand and algorithms rather than stable contracts.
Technology thus creates opportunity while shifting risk from institutions onto individuals.
Pierre Bourdieu’s “Distinction” (1979) adds a further dimension: economic capital alone does not determine life chances; social, cultural and educational capital matter just as much.
In Bangladesh, those with stronger education and networks recover faster from shocks, while others with comparable incomes remain trapped in prolonged insecurity.Economic insecurity, in this sense, is inseparable from social inequality.
The consequences extend beyond finances. Marriages are delayed, consumption is scaled back, and migration separates families.
The constant strain of uncertainty feeds stress and anxiety – making economic insecurity as much a psychological issue as an economic one.
Consider an ordinary household: a factory supervisor and a ride-share driver earning enough between them for rent, school fees and groceries in a normal month, but with no pension, no paid sick leave, and no savings large enough to absorb a hospital bill.
One accident or one lost contract, and the balance collapses. Multiply that by millions, and the scale becomes clear – a structural feature of how work and income are organised, not a handful of unlucky cases.
Government responses so far have leaned on short-term relief: cash transfers during floods, subsidies during price spikes, occasional wage adjustments.
These help, but treat symptoms rather than causes. What is missing is longer-term social protection – portable pensions, health coverage not tied to formal employment, and support for informal and gig workers.
Employers share responsibility too: firms relying on outsourced labour owe their workers basic protections in return for the flexibility such labourprovides.
None of this argues against growth itself, which has lifted millions out of poverty. The point is narrower: growth measured only in GDP and average income tells us little about whether families feel secure enough to plan a year.
A country can grow steadily while a growing share of its people quietly lose confidence in their own future – and that loss matters just as much as any single economic statistic.
The new sociology of economic insecurity offers a simple reminder: development means something only when people feel secure about tomorrow. A society where millions live in fear of losing their jobs, falling into debt, or being unable to absorb an unexpected shock cannot claim genuine inclusive progress.
Bangladesh’s future will depend not only on generating more wealth, but on building more security, resilience and trust between citizens and the institutions meant to protect them. Only then does economic growth translate into real social progress.
(The writer is a researcher and development professional)
