Should participation be quota-based?

In Finland, the public debate on immigration is, from the perspective of many immigrants, frustrating – for some, even paralyzing. Often, the loudest voices are those who have not gone through the integration process themselves, and who do not necessarily know what integration services actually involve. As a result, the real challenges of integration are easily overlooked, ignored, or even downplayed.

This is why it is vital to bring expert voices into the conversation, both from the majority and from minority communities. But I stress: expertise matters.
Participation – meaning full membership in society – should be promoted at all levels, but always based on merit. If participation is carried out merely to fill quotas, the consequences can be harmful.

We can see such harm internationally, particularly on social media, where isolated failures in representation are blown out of proportion and weaponized. Minority representatives in organizations or advertisements are singled out, and their inclusion and hiring are questioned, even when many of them have perfectly fitting career histories and decades of experience.

Isolated cases fuel perceptions

These perceptions, which are easily generalized to visible minorities, do not arise in a vacuum; they are shaped by concrete examples. For instance, on Finnish-language X (formerly Twitter), short clips have circulated from Yle’s A-studio. In one episode, a participant with an immigrant background was asked why men from the Middle East and Africa are overrepresented in sexual crime statistics, and how the situation should be resolved.

At first, the participant mentioned education as one preventive measure – which was good. But he went on to suggest that Westernization and forgetting one’s “authentic culture” were also factors behind the statistics. The answer became superficial, even problematic.

The question presented in A-studio was unreasonably broad and unfair, since the participant was not, as far as we know, a criminologist or migration researcher. Although the program aimed to give immigrants a voice, the result was a clip that continues to circulate almost ten years later, often in bad faith. This shows how participation without expertise can even backfire.

Two questions come to mind:

1. Why is a participant with an immigrant background expected to provide ready-made solutions to major social problems, when they were primarily invited to share their personal integration experience?
2. Few people could spontaneously propose solutions to such complex issues – so why do journalists ask broad, statistical questions of individuals whose expertise lies in personal experience?

This could have gone differently. If the goal is policy solutions, then social scientists should be invited. If the aim is to hear about someone’s own integration process in Finland, then space should be made for that. But an immigrant background alone does not make someone a migration expert – even if lived experience and knowledge can add valuable insight. Many people combine personal experience with broader expertise, and they could have been invited instead.

Over the years, similar quota-like inclusions have taken place in various settings. That is why responsibility must go hand in hand with participation. As an immigrant, is it responsible for me to take part in a discussion if I am not well acquainted with the topic? And isn’t it also the organizer’s responsibility to avoid posing broad societal questions if the invited participant is there to share a personal perspective rather than engage with statistics?

Participation can also turn against minorities

Internationally, the term DEI hire has become a weapon to dismiss the years of work, skills, and education of minority employees. According to a 2025 CNN article, many public officials belonging to visible minorities have experienced this. Forbes (2024) notes that the phenomenon also affects highly educated, high-ranking individuals, such as former U.S. Vice President Kamala Harris. She faced similar efforts to discredit her career, skills, and years of education, even though her qualifications exceeded those of her competitors.

When to speak up – and on what topics?

Another risk is tokenism: the superficial inclusion of people with immigrant backgrounds, for example to fill quotas or to provide “diversity” visibility.

We immigrants are often brought forward only when the discussion is about immigration, racism, or honor-based violence – topics seen as “ours.” I am not exempt from this; I am part of the same critique.

But how much expertise is left unused because certain topics are not considered “ours”? I want to see a future where someone like me is not limited to speaking about honor-based violence, war, or racism, but also about economics, art, music, or dance.

And not only about “exotic” Eastern art, but also about Eino Leino and the Järnefelts – or about municipal taxation and education policy. I want to sit in studios and discuss current issues in Finland that concern me on a level deeper than skin color.

That is why I stress: participation requires responsibility. We should not simply tick a box to say that inclusion has been achieved, but carefully consider who is the right person for a given task. When skills and experience guide decisions, both minorities and society as a whole benefit.

Finally, I also want to challenge those who criticize inclusion: why is the competence of minorities and women so easily questioned, as if their positions were not deserved? The reason often lies in the critic’s own learned blindness. Historically, it has been precisely minorities and women who have been denied opportunities – despite high levels of expertise – that were instead handed to men from the majority.

Sara Al Husaini
Sara Al Husaini holds a Master’s degree in philosophy and is an author, activist, and feminist. Born in Iraq, her award-winning debut Huono tyttö (Bad Girl, Like, 2023) told a personal story of forced marriage, female modesty rules, and experiences that previously lacked words. Her new novel, Kenelle maa kuuluu (To Whom the Land Belongs, Like, 2025), set in Baghdad, will be published in early October. It explores war, perpetual flight, homelessness, and the longing to find one’s place.