Responding to those who have read and critiqued your work, such as editors and reviewers, is a central part of academic exchange. To be able to explain and defend the choices you have made in a response letter is also a key skill that takes time to develop. It is my hope that this essay will help you reflect on the process of writing these responses and provide some useful tips toward getting published.

Jane Mansbridge (1999) challenges critics of descriptive representation, writing that it leads to improvements in substantive representation. Theorists, however, continue to debate the degree to which groups can be represented by single individuals in government as gains in descriptive representation fail to be transformative. The effects of descriptive representation are more complex than they are often presented as new descriptive representatives do not always win acceptance. Even as there are substantive policy gains through descriptive representation, there are also setbacks for groups through the mobilization of opposition groups. There is also pressure on descriptive representatives to moderate their positions and be less vocal. Given the dominant position of privileged groups and their conservative ideologies that defend inequality, substantive gains from descriptive representation are less than implied by descriptive representation advocates.

Publishing during your PhD can be both rewarding and challenging. On the one hand, writing and publishing papers can be a beneficial and particularly important aspect of your time as a PhD student. Not only does it allow you to share your work with a wider audience, but also it can help establish your reputation in your field and may lead to future opportunities such as academic positions or funding. On the other hand, publishing can be an intimidating challenge that adds an additional layer of pressure and workload to an already demanding program and therefore requires a huge amount of dedication and resilience.

When Jane Mansbridge’s (1999) article was first submitted, more than 80% of the world’s parliaments featured less than 20% women (IPU 2015). Calculating the parliamentary presence of ethnic and cultural minorities and Indigenous peoples has proved more difficult (Protsyk 2010). This is despite the adoption of two United Nations Declarations, on the Rights of Persons Belonging to National or Ethnic, Religious and Linguistic Minorities (1992) and on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples in 2007. In Aotearoa New Zealand, the representation of women and Māori (the Indigenous peoples) was comparatively better than global averages. In 1996, 29% of parliamentarians were women and 14% were Māori. By 2020, these figures had increased to 48% and 21%, respectively, while in the cabinet, women made up 40% of ministers and Māori accounted for 25%. Reported as the country’s historically most diverse parliament and cabinet (Curtin 2020), it appears that both new (proportional representation) and old (reserved seats for Māori) institutional mechanisms had achieved near proportionality, and a heterogeneity of experiences, potentially enhancing opportunities for deliberation.

Reading these essays gave me a thrill of excitement like the one I felt on hearing that the #MeToo movement had extended even into China. The ideas in this Critical Perspectives collection go much deeper into the nature of and reasons for descriptive representation than I could two decades ago. Anne Phillips (1995) and Melissa Williams (1998), the two pioneers in this field who produced analyses far more thorough than mine, would, I think, agree with me on this. So would Iris Marion Young, whose early challenge in a talk over lunch inspired me to puzzle out my own take on the problem.