Who Gets to Decide? How Parity Law Protects Democracy, Not Just Women
Whenever parity laws come up, the debate usually sounds the same: are women being favoured? Are standards being lowered? Is this fair? These questions assume that political systems have always been neutral and that parity laws are the disruption. But inequality did not begin with parity laws; it existed long before them.
To put it into context, a Parity law is a legal instrument that mandates an equal distribution of men and women in political and public decision-making bodies.
I saw political inequality and gender bias at play at the university when a friend was running for the Student Union President. Before she had even outlined her ideas, people questioned whether she could lead effectively, be firm enough, and balance her responsibilities. None of these concerns were raised about the male candidates. It was an assumption, reflecting the default image of leadership.
Modern political institutions emerged at a time when women were legally excluded from public life. Voting rights, eligibility for office, access to party networks, and campaign financing were shaped during that exclusion.
Even after formal barriers were removed, the structures remained. What is often described as “merit” today frequently reflects access, not ability.
Parity laws exist because equal treatment within unequal systems does not produce equal outcomes. Treating everyone the same assumes everyone started from the same position, which history shows is false. Seen this way, the Parity law is not a benefit extended to women but an intervention to correct structural imbalance.
Globally, women hold 27.2% of national parliamentary seats, despite comprising nearly half of the population. Countries with legislated quotas have increased women’s representation more rapidly than those relying solely on voluntary commitments. Parity law is therefore not “for women”; it is for democracy. A political system that consistently excludes a large part of the population cannot credibly claim to represent the public interest.
When political participation becomes more balanced, the range of issues considered legitimate expands. Concerns previously treated as private or secondary, such as care work or social protection, gain visibility and resources.
Resistance to the parity law is often framed as a defence of merit. Yet merit itself is shaped by opportunity: who is encouraged to lead, who is funded, who is mentored. Parity law does not eliminate competition; it challenges the assumption that existing outcomes are fair.
Ultimately, parity law represents a question about power: who gets to decide, whose experiences shape policy, and who bears the consequences when decisions are made without them? Parity law is not a statement about women’s abilities. It is a response to political systems that normalised exclusion and then claimed the outcomes were natural. Whether supporting or critiquing parity law, we cannot ignore this reality.