SPROWT ARTICLE | Carlos Osvaldo Mabutana

Carlos Osvaldo

From Tokenism to Transformation: Why Representation Alone is Not Enough

Introduction

We love to celebrate diversity—especially when it’s visible. We put people of colour in the photos, women on the panels, people with disabilities in the brochures. We highlight their presence in our organisations and wear their inclusion like a badge of honour.

But here’s the uncomfortable truth: representation is not the same as representing. And one without the other is not only hollow—it can be harmful.

Beyond the Optics

Having worked across the private sector, development cooperation, and diplomatic institutions, I’ve witnessed firsthand how this issue is not confined to one domain. Whether it’s a corporate boardroom, a donor coordination table, or a multilateral negotiation room, the pattern repeats itself: someone is brought in to tick a box, not to change the conversation.

These institutions—and I say this as someone who has worked within them—often mistake presence for power. They want you in the room, but they don’t want the room to shift. You can be included, as long as you don’t challenge too much. You can speak, as long as you don’t say what makes others uncomfortable.

Representation, in this model, becomes decorative—symbolic at best, silencing at worst.

The Illusion of Progress

This illusion of progress is seductive. It allows institutions to feel modern, inclusive, and forward-thinking. But the deeper structures of decision-making, agenda-setting, and resource allocation remain untouched.

We end up with rooms that look different but think the same.

And that’s a problem—because true inclusion is not about optics, it’s about agency. It’s about shifting the dynamics of power so that those historically excluded are not only present but are heard, respected, and followed. They are not just visible—they are defining the vision.

The Cost of Silence

The cost of failing to go beyond representation is real. Talented individuals walk away from systems that exhaust them. Communities lose trust in institutions that showcase diversity but maintain exclusion. And perhaps most tragically, we miss out on the wisdom, innovation, and solutions that only emerge when power is shared, not hoarded.

I’ve seen brilliant young women in tech startups whose ideas were sidelined until a man repeated them. I’ve seen African professionals in international NGOs constantly reduced to “local context providers” while strategic decisions were made in European capitals. I’ve seen women of colour in diplomatic spaces praised for their “presence” while being excluded from meaningful policy discussions.

In all these cases, representation was there, but the right to represent—to influence, to set direction, to lead—was not.

Dismantling the Gate

What we need is not more faces in high places for the sake of visibility. We need to dismantle the gates, not just diversify the gatekeepers. That means rethinking how we define merit, who holds the microphone, and what success looks like.

True inclusion is not inviting someone to dance to the same old song.
It’s letting them change the music.

Moving from Comfort to Commitment

For institutions truly committed to equity, the next frontier is not just hiring more diverse staff or running inclusion workshops. It is being willing to relinquish control, redistribute resources, and reimagine leadership.

It means asking uncomfortable questions:

  • Who sets the agenda in our boardrooms and organizations?
  • Whose knowledge do we value—and whose do we ignore?
  • Are we building systems that allow people to bring their full selves—or only the parts that fit?

Until we answer these questions honestly, we will remain stuck in a cycle of cosmetic change and missed opportunity.

Final Thought

Representation is a starting point—not a destination. It is the door, not the house. And as long as we keep mistaking one for the other, we will keep building institutions that look inclusive but fail to be transformational.

Let’s stop ticking boxes. Let’s start sharing the pen that writes the rules.