Where Is the Champagne?
As a modern state, South Korea was born in a desperate condition. Impoverished, sapped by decades of colonialism, ravaged by war, poorly endowed with natural resources, and a mere half of a historic nation, it has nevertheless survived and gone on to become an unlikely success story. In fifty years—an incredibly short time—South Koreans have somehow contrived to transform their country into one of the most advanced in the world.
This success is not just economic, a matter of GDP figures, but also social and political. Democracy has taken root, artists have found their voice in cultural areas like cinema, and South Korean society is beginning to embrace a new era of openness. The most exciting aspect of these developments is that they are works in progress. This is a country whose days of greatest glory are still ahead of it.
South Korea’s achievements have come in spite of the many conflicts and divisions that exist within its society. These include an extreme left-right political split; the thousand-year-old Jeolla-Gyeongsang regional rivalry; the conflicting religious traditions of Buddhism and Christianity; and, the contradiction between the everything-in-its-right-place mentality of Confucianism and the drive to overturn old traditions in the pursuit of economic growth. Today, new conflicts are emerging: with the rise of income inequality, there is an increasing divide between rich and poor; there is also now a rising lack of understanding between the older and younger generations.
A flexibility in the character of South Koreans and in their society has allowed conflicts and differences to coexist, and to be productive rather than get in the way of progress. This innate ability to yield to reality has enabled society to accept change when it becomes clear that change is needed. Other aspects of the Korean character, such as the ability to focus on goals and work relentlessly towards them, have helped Koreans bring about transformation in some areas at remarkable speed.
Yet the country’s achievements have come with certain unfortunate costs. South Koreans work so hard in part because a spirit of competition infects virtually all aspects of life. The pressure to outdo other members of society is linked with a need to be seen as a top achiever. The result is that, while Koreans have much to be proud of, they remain an unhappy people. While the expression of pure joy (heung) is woven deeply into Korea’s traditional culture, opportunities to manifest it have grown limited in modern South Korea. Workdays are long and tiring, holidays are short, and the perceived need for success makes time devoted to amusement or relaxation a luxury.
Though the country has achieved wealth to the point where its people might naturally be expected to start spending a little time doing nothing—in other words, being at leisure—Koreans continue to work the longest hours in the OECD. They overinvest in education and compete to have the best test scores and degrees. They compete for jobs at the most famous companies, and at those jobs—spurred by their own competitiveness and the company “spirit”—proceed to work around the clock and accumulate stress. This practice is counterproductive for firms themselves, since the pressure felt by staff ends up reducing workers’ productivity.
A young Korean man in his twenties or thirties—particularly one of high social status—will likely have few hobbies relative to his counterparts in other advanced, industrialized countries. The vacations he takes will last a few days rather than weeks. Because of the perceived need to compete and demonstrate a high level of achievement, he will invest an unhealthy amount of time in bolstering his academic or work credentials. Should the eventual outcome of all this effort prove disappointing or even just average, he will most likely be assailed by feelings of extreme inadequacy.
It is scarce wonder then that statistics show depression to have reached crisis proportions. Suicide is the number one killer among young Koreans, and the fourth greatest cause of death in the population overall. Every year, 31 out of 100,000 people take their own lives. This rate is second only to Lithuania, which has 31.5 suicides per 100,000 people. According to the Ministry of Health and Welfare, 16 percent of South Korean adults suffered from some kind of mental illness in 2011. Regrettably, people do not seek help for such problems. Korean psychiatrists say that the need to preserve face and dignity stop people from admitting they are depressed or unable to cope.
South Korea ranks 102nd on the “Satisfaction with Life” index, alongside the far less developed Kazakhstan and Madagascar. The outstandingly disadvantaged Republic of the Congo ranks a mere three places lower. And in February 2012, polling firm Ipsos surveyed 18,000 adults in 24 different countries and found that South Korea ranked second to bottom in terms of the happiness of its citizens, outperforming only Hungary, another country that struggles with a high rate of suicide. In the poll, just 7 percent of Koreans described themselves as “very happy.”
Most of the problems that beset this country—with the obvious exception of the issue of North Korea, which is outside of the South’s control—are fixable. As we have seen, South Korean society and government now seem to be taking steps to forestall the potential disaster of becoming a “super-aged” nation. Tempering the spirit of competitiveness, particularly with regard to education and career, will be more difficult. Korean society is flexible, but can it rein in one of the attributes that made the country’s take-off possible?
Unrelenting competition was beneficial for South Korea as a nation from the 1960s to the 1980s. The fact that the competitive spirit has become twisted and counterproductive on a personal level has not led to movements against it, though many people do question it. Spending on private, extracurricular tuition continues to rise every year, as does the number of graduates chasing the limited range of good jobs available. Amounts spent on cosmetics, elitist fashion brands, and plastic surgery—products perceived to elevate the social value of the buyer—are among the highest in the world. People go to extraordinary lengths to present the best possible version of themselves to the world, and yet unhappiness prevails.
Soyeon Yi recounts how immensely proud she is of her country, of how such a small nation has overcome a litany of misfortunes and is now an example to others in so many ways. “Koreans are so incredible. But, it’s really sad, they just don’t realize it. Koreans are very good at being unsatisfied. Sometimes we need to have a break, and some champagne to cheer us up.”
Having overcome civil war and starvation, and gone from a defeated land and colony, to an advanced, stable, democratic country through sheer determination and struggle, the people of South Korea more than anyone deserve to sit back with a glass of champagne. However, for now a paradox remains: this impossible country, having overcome so much, may find the challenge of contentment beyond its grasp. But let us hope for one more miracle.