A hot plate has no future
My brother-in-law is a recent college graduate with a degree from a high-ranking school in South Korea. He speaks excellent German and decent English. He found a job relatively soon out of college, making him one of the lucky ones, working for a major bank in Seoul. He works roughly 15 hours a day, not counting his commute. Even though he has nothing to do for several hours before he leaves, he is not allowed to leave early. His bosses are also cruel: new employees, himself included, were forced to remain in a standing/squatting position for hours once, as a form of hazing. He must endure. The only option is unemployment, or emigration. The latter is increasingly attractive. "This country has no future," is a common refrain in Korea these days. I hear it all the time, particularly from the older generation, but increasingly from younger Koreans, as well. It's a pretty startling thing to say, if taken literally. But what's particularly odd is who it's coming from: these were the people, remember, who endured over 40 years of Japanese colonialism. Are things really so bad now that circumstances pose a greater threat to the future than Ito Hirobumi did? Korea's problems are more about the country punching below its weight than indicative of total weakness. South Korea should be doing very well, and it still could. The problem is not what the country has or where it is, but how its people use what they have, and they have been using it very poorly. Everyone agrees that things now are bad. The economy is stagnant, while inflation is off the hook. Korea's trading power has been eclipsed by Chinese firms on the low end and blocked by a resurgent Japan on the high end. Jobs are hard to come by, and those that exist are increasingly tough to put up with: new employees can expect to undergo physical hazing rituals. The population has endorsed anti-American madness sponsored and exploited by deeply irresponsible and dishonest civic groups. The media doesn't know how to deal with any issues unrelated to anti-American or anti-Japanese feeling .The next president of the United States will likely be a Democrat, uninterested in keeping US troops in the country and angered by the uneven balance of trade. Add to that a sense of helplessness against the system: there is no Korean version of the PTA or school boards to change an education system that is so bad, families split up so that mothers and children can go live abroad for schooling. University presidents who strive to bring their colleges up in the rankings find themselves replaced by angry professors. Shareholders'-rights groups are stymied by judges who let guilty heads of corporations go free in light of their "economic service to their country." The police seem unwilling and incapable of deterring, or even investigating, crimes as serious as mass rape. Meanwhile, every year thicker clouds of yellow dust descend on the country, blanketing it in toxic sand. Each on its own is a serious problem, but cumulatively they draw a very ugly picture for the future. What will poor little South Korea do once the U.S. has gone, a frighteningly nationalistic China is making the rules, the skies are orange, and the population, plagued by problems of its own making, is so haywire and paranoid that it is effectively leaderless? If everyone who is sick of how things are in Korea can just emigrate, who will bother staying to fight for change? Pessimists take note: Korea's problems are solvable, and many are improving at this moment. The despair might be all for nothing. Even a short list shows the potential for progress: Then consider the opportunities Korea has for growth and diplomacy: This begs the question: why is Korea so bad at taking advantage of its strong points? Why can't it use its population's brains, talent and energy more effectively? The answer is largely ideological - Korea's anti-Americanism and Japan-hatred drive it insane. All the major anti-American and anti-Japanese movements over the last decade or so have been preceded by situations that forced the country to look at China or North Korea negatively. Each time, South Koreans appeared confused, hesitant, and frightened, and each time, they responded by latching on to much smaller issues involving the U.S. or Japan, blowing them out of proportion, and using them for the sake of domestic politics. The 2002 West Sea battle; the riot of Chinese students in Seoul; the shooting of a South Korean tourist by North Koreans. Each was followed by major protests over insignificant issues involving the U.S. or Japan. Each blow-up over a non-issue became opportunities for exploitation by domestic politicians. None resulted in serious repercussions from Americans or Japanese. But most importantly, each diverted crucial time and attention away from the serious quality-of-life issues that affect most Koreans. Keep in mind that even after the country's largest political protest since 1919, over the safety of food, there have been no calls for increased regulation of the domestic market, akin to the FDA. It's hard to imagine a Korea where people stay focused on local issues, ignore Japan, feel grateful toward America, fear China and take a hard line against their northern compatriots. In short, it's hard to imagine a peninsular version of Singapore, Dubai or Denmark, where the governments focus on building consensus and improving quality of life. This creates a cycle of malaise, rage, distraction, and more malaise. Koreans like to say that they have quick tempers; the phrase in Korean is naembi gumsung (hot plate). The more they say that about themselves, the more they believe it about themselves. It becomes a condition for Korean-ness.That Korea, at least, surely doesn't have a future.
