From hospital wards to AI hubs

Express Tribune

a day ago

It's a flaw that has quietly cost lives: pulse oximeters, the fingertip devices used to measure oxygen levels, often give falsely reassuring readings in patients with darker skin. In hospitals around the world, including Pakistan, this subtle error means critical cases get missed, interventions come late, and outcomes worsen. The machine doesn't discriminate, but the data does.
Not many noticed. Fewer still tried to fix it.
At the Annual MIT Policy Hackathon, a young public health student from Pakistan stood up and proposed a solution. Later, at Harvard, he went on to build an AI model that eliminated the racial bias in pulse oximetry readings altogether. 'That moment reminded me,' says Dr. Muhammad Jawad Noon, 'I'm here to build systems that see and serve everyone.'
A medical doctor by training, and now a data scientist and AI researcher by practice, Dr. Noon works at the intersection of medicine, technology, and public health policy. His work doesn't sit in one lab or clinic, it moves between hospitals and hackathons, between academic journals and national strategy rooms. From building tools that fix racial bias in devices to creating policy frameworks that guide how countries adopt AI in healthcare, Dr. Noon is part of a new generation trying to redesign the system from the inside out.
Dr. Noon didn't arrive at that point through a clean epiphany or some cinematic turning point. 'There wasn't a single lightning strike. It was slow fire,' he says. His shift from clinical medicine to systems thinking began years earlier, in the wards of teaching hospitals where patients would quietly walk away from care they couldn't afford, or stay behind, only to be told no treatment existed at all. 'That helplessness stayed with me,' he says. 'That's when I stopped asking what I could do as a doctor, and started asking what I could change as a human being.'
For him, the connection between medicine and technology was never abstract. It was right there in front of him, in X-rays, in ventilators, in every life saved or lost depending on a machine. 'Modern medicine depends on technology,' he says. 'I saw how machines helped detect what the human eye could miss, how they guided decisions when seconds mattered. They became essential partners in delivering safer, timely care.'
But technology, like medicine, is only as equitable as the systems behind it. And that's where his work begins.
Early roots and turning points
Before Dr. Noon began shaping systems, he had to move through a few of his own. 'Each city gave me something essential,' he says, thinking back on the arc that took him from Bahawalpur to Lahore and eventually Islamabad. 'Bahawalpur gave me discipline and a strong educational foundation. Lahore expanded my ambition and taught me to dream big. Islamabad connected me to the resources and networks that made execution possible.'
But long before strategy and systems came into view, it was illness that shaped his earliest sense of purpose, the kind he witnessed up close, again and again. People in pain. Families waiting on answers that didn't come. 'I saw the human cost of broken systems,' he says. 'I didn't want to be a spectator to suffering. I wanted to fight it.'
That clarity only sharpened in medical school, though not in a single flash. It happened gradually, as mentors chipped away at what he thought was possible. 'Each of them cracked a wall open in my mind, until I saw the world not as it is, but as it could be,' he says. He names them without hesitation, Dr. Sajida Naseem, Dr. Aisha Mohyuddin, Dr. Saeed Akhtar, Maj Gen (R) Dr. Muhammad Aslam, Dr. Ali Yawar Alam, Dr. Waqas Ahmed, each of them a nudge forward.
And then came the pivot point. Clinical rotations at Johns Hopkins in the United States. 'It wasn't just about clinical excellence,' says Dr. Noon. 'It was about unlocking potential.' What surprised him wasn't the brilliance of the people around him, he expected that, but how those same people made space for him. 'They believed in me not just as a student, but as someone who could lead. That belief stayed with me.'
He still carries the advice of two mentors from that time. From Dr. William B. Greenough III, who said, 'Be meticulously curious. Pursue answers with precision. Never settle for less than excellence.' And from Dr. Thomas E. Finucane, who said, 'Don't idolize individuals. Find the best qualities in everyone you meet and integrate those into your own character.'
That mindset, he says, changed everything. 'No matter how small I seemed in the world's hierarchy, my potential was limitless. And with that, came responsibility.'
Interdisciplinary shift: Oxford, Harvard, and AI
Dr. Noon didn't arrive at Oxford chasing prestige. He arrived with questions. 'I went to Oxford to understand why good evidence so often fails to drive good policy,' he says. 'I wanted to study rigorous research methods and learn how policy is made, how decisions are shaped, why the gap between research and implementation exists, and how we can improve the policymaking process to be more responsive, inclusive, and effective. At the core of it, I believed, and still believe, that well-designed policy has the power to drive lasting, positive change in the world.'
What he discovered wasn't just technical know-how, but a reckoning with the complexity beneath seemingly clear decisions. 'Beneath every guideline are hard choices, trade-offs, and human stories,' he says. 'The deeper you go, the more complex it becomes. But it's in that complexity that real change lives. Policy is where idealism meets reality. It's messy. Political. But it's also the place where change becomes real. I learned that systems are like living organisms. And they need care, too.'
That shift, from treating patients to shaping systems, deepened further at Harvard, where Dr. Noon's curiosity met a different kind of frontier – artificial intelligence.
'AI, when done right, has the potential to transform lives on a global scale. But very few truly understand it end-to-end. I wanted to be one of them. I didn't want to be the doctor who barely understood the algorithm or the engineer who didn't understand the human context. I came to Harvard to help shape the field, not just follow it, ' shared Dr. Noon.
As he immersed himself in AI's possibilities and blind spots, he began to notice a recurring gap. 'Most technologists may not experience the gravity of holding a life in their hands, the emotional weight of every clinical decision,' he says. 'And most doctors aren't trained to grasp the algorithms and mathematics behind AI, the risks, the potential, or how to use it responsibly. We need both the heart of medicine and the precision of technology at the same table. That disconnect can be dangerous. Bridging it is essential.'
It was this convergence of insight and urgency that led him to build the AI Policy Benchmarking Tool, one of his most significant contributions so far.
'The tool began with a sense of urgency,' he says. 'Too many countries lacked clear, accountable AI strategies, and that absence isn't just a policy gap; it's a risk to people's rights and safety. I built this tool to help address that challenge. It draws from a wide range of global frameworks, policy documents, and expert recommendations, offering a structured, evidence-based guide for governments and institutions.'
He's quick to clarify that it's not a legal framework or prescriptive checklist. 'It's a foundation. A starting point. In an AI landscape evolving this rapidly, we need tools that help policy keep pace, responsibly, transparently, and with people at the center. It's adaptable to local realities, but grounded in global best practices.'
And like much of his work, it's rooted in one core principle: policy, when designed well, isn't just paperwork, it's protection.
Speaking with purpose
Dr. Noon doesn't believe that science speaks for itself. 'People need to understand the truth behind research and policy decisions that shape their lives,' he says. 'I've seen how even well-intentioned experts can misinterpret evidence, especially as medicine and science have become deeply interdisciplinary. Our education systems haven't fully kept pace with that shift, and the consequences can be serious, as we saw during the COVID-19 pandemic.'
His choice to write publicly, in journals like Nature, The Lancet, and media platforms such as Fortune and CNN, isn't about professional visibility. It's about bridging a communication gap that can have real-life consequences. 'Having an interdisciplinary background puts me in a position to bridge that gap,' he says. 'I share my work publicly not for visibility, but to help ensure that accurate, actionable knowledge reaches those who need it most.'
That sense of responsibility only deepens when the conversation turns to recognition. Over the years, Dr. Noon has been named among the 40 Under 40 Public Health Catalysts, received the German Medical Award, and earned the European Award in Medicine. But none of these sit on a pedestal.
'Leadership at a young age is a responsibility I carry with deep humility and a strong sense of accountability,' he says. 'Every recognition is not a celebration of what I've done, but a call to do more, to be mindful in my words, intentional in my actions, and rooted in service to others. These honors aren't about visibility or titles; they're about what I'm being entrusted to build. I strive each day to be worthy of that trust, to open doors, shift mindsets, and show every person watching that they, too, belong in the rooms where change begins. That's the responsibility I wake up with every day.'
He reserves his strongest words for the generation coming up behind him, one he considers not just future leaders, but present ones.
'Young people are not just the future of global health, they are its present,' he says. 'They are not waiting to lead someday; they are needed now.' He went on saying that in every corner of the world, even the smallest act, a clinic started, a voice raised, a truth spoken, can create ripples that save lives.
'They must write their own story, not wait for someone else to script it. You don't need permission to begin. You don't need a title to lead. What you need is conviction, courage, and the belief that your background is not a barrier, it's your power,' he said added that global health is not someone else's job, it belongs to all of us. And the youth must rise, not just as participants, but as architects of a healthier, more just world.
When asked if the weight of expectation ever feels like a burden, he doesn't flinch. 'I don't feel pressure,' he says. 'I feel purpose. Expectations don't weigh me down; they remind me that people believe in something good in me, and that's a gift I hold with gratitude. I know I'm not perfect and I won't always get it right, no one does.'
'But I pray that I remain a source of khayr and that I never lose the tawakkul that keeps me anchored. It's not about living up to titles. It's about showing up with sincerity, serving with integrity, and becoming a vessel for something greater than myself.'
Beyond the horizon
Dr. Noon doesn't talk about the future in vague terms. He talks about windows, narrow, fleeting, and full of possibility. 'I'm certain AI will transform healthcare across the world, and Pakistan is no exception,' he says. 'In fact, Pakistan has a small but critical window to act swiftly and seize this moment to become a leader in the field.'
With a healthcare system already stretched thin, not enough hospitals, not enough doctors, he sees AI as more than a technical fix. It's a way to extend care where it doesn't reach, to automate what shouldn't require human hands, to lower costs without lowering quality. But he's not naïve to the risks.
'Without a strong national strategy and responsible regulation, we risk deploying biased algorithms, mishandling sensitive data, deepening existing disparities and compromising patient safety,' he says. 'AI, if led with integrity, vision and care, can become the backbone of a healthier, more resilient Pakistan.'
For Dr. Noon, the opportunity goes beyond medicine. 'AI is not just a tool for healthcare. It's a lever for economic transformation,' he says. 'With focused investment and policy, Pakistan could become a hub for ethical, homegrown AI innovation and an exporter of AI systems, services, and solutions. I believe we can lead the region in ethical, people-centered innovation, and I would be honored to contribute wherever my expertise can be of service.'
His advice to his younger self, the boy walking the grounds of Sadiq Public School in Bahawalpur, is less about steps and more about spirit. He reaches for Iqbal:
'Uqaabi rooh jab bedar hoti hai jawanon mein, nazar aati hai unko apni manzil aasmanon mein.'
'There's a universe within you,' he says. 'Vast, untamed, waiting to be awakened. Don't underestimate your capacity to grow, to rise, to transform. Explore the edges of your potential. The sky is not your limit, it's where your journey begins.'
When asked about legacy, he doesn't hesitate. 'I'm not hoping to build a legacy. I'm not hungry for recognition. I don't want my name carved in marble. I want it whispered in prayers,' he says.
What he wants instead is quiet and simple. For him what matters is knowing he did everything in his power to make this world more just, more kind, and more humane. 'I don't seek to be celebrated. I seek to be useful and compassionate, in line with the values of my faith.'