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This argument’s been done to death. Fawad Khan was a singer before he became an actor. He was the frontman of one of Pakistan’s most popular rock bands of the 2000s, Entity Paradigm (EP). Gen Z didn’t know that, but now they probably do. The curious case of Fawad Khan is not so curious anymore — and by all means, Humaira Arshad should’ve thought before speaking.

The former playback singer, during an appearance on Suno TV’s Suno Tou Sahi, weighed in on the online criticism surrounding Khan’s place on the Pakistan Idol panel, arguing that people without formal music training shouldn’t be judging such a competition. Her words were clear — if you can’t demonstrate a taan, you shouldn’t be judging one.

On paper, that may sound fair. But in practice, it reeks of sour grapes — or perhaps a misplaced nostalgia for a world where the only valid way to learn music was to sit cross-legged before an ustad. That world, for better or worse, doesn’t exist anymore. The shagirdgi tradition has faded, music schools are few and far between, and the Pakistan Idol stage represents the masses — raw, untrained, self-taught voices finding their way through instinct, YouTube tutorials, and pure passion.

And if that’s the case, who better than someone like Fawad Khan to sit on that panel? His journey mirrors the very spirit of the show. He may not have formal training, but he’s lived the music, belting out ‘Kahan Hay Tu’, ‘Waqt’ and ‘Hamesha’ in sweaty underground gigs when autotune wasn’t even a thing. Sure, there were moments in his best songs where he faltered, but he made a name for himself regardless, which says a lot about talent, persistence, and connection.

So, perhaps it makes perfect sense to have Khan sitting alongside Rahat Fateh Ali Khan, Zeb Bangash and Bilal Maqsood, all of whom represent very different musical traditions. Rahat brings classical mastery, Zeb, who is also classically trained, offers multilingual sensitivity, Bilal lends pop sensibility and industry insight, and Khan embodies the perspective of the artist who made it big outside the rules. If anything, this balance makes for a richer, more rounded panel. Because when the audience is mostly self-taught, the judging panel should reflect that spectrum too, from the trained to the intuitive.

This isn’t even the first time Pakistan Idol has done this. Bushra Ansari, for instance, was a judge on Pakistan Idol season 1. She could sing beautifully, but her fame didn’t come from a formal musical career. Much like Khan, her place on the panel was justified by her artistic versatility and deep connection to Pakistani entertainment.

Across the border, Indian Idol hasn’t always been purist either — for every classically trained Sonu Nigam or Shreya Ghoshal, there’s been an Anu Malik, whose biggest asset was his knack for pop hooks and an instinctive understanding of what the masses wanted.

That’s the global Idol formula — you mix technical expertise with popular appeal, because talent shows aren’t conservatories, they’re about entertainment, emotion, and relatability. And when the entire point is to discover new voices, you need judges who represent different kinds of musical journeys, not just one rigid standard of “training.”

Of course, there’s also the attention economy at play. Having Khan on the panel is a masterstroke from a marketing perspective. His global fame pulls in audiences who might never otherwise tune into a singing competition. The same logic applies to every Idol franchise worldwide, from American Idol’s revolving door of superstar judges to Indian Idol’s mix of legends and pop-culture magnets. Star power brings visibility; visibility brings opportunity, for contestants and networks alike.

But beyond the ratings game, there’s something to be said for why we’re so obsessed with policing Khan’s career moves. Whether it was the Aabeer Gulaal controversy or now Pakistan Idol, we seem determined to dissect every choice he makes. Maybe that says less about him and more about us, a nation perpetually suspicious of its own success stories.

Perhaps it’s time we stopped pretending we’re better judges of talent than Khan. Because if anything, Pakistan Idol has shown that talent isn’t confined to classrooms or ragas, it’s in the untrained, unpolished voices that rise despite not having the right teacher or the right lineage. And that’s precisely the kind of talent Khan has been.