Honoring False Idols: The Undue Pursuit of “Development” in Korean Scholarship

“Miracle on the Han River” by James Rhee and Pat V. for “Tiger and Bear Korea.” (c) James Topple and Colin Riddle. Used with permission from the authors.

Something I have noticed in my reading on politics in Korea is Korean academics’ fixation on the question of Korea’s level of “development.” Like the familiar chant of a young child on a long trip, they constantly ask themselves and their readers, “Is Korea ‘developed’ yet?” A release of statistics and rankings from the OECD can inspire either societal euphoria or panic in Korea, depending on the news. A recorded rise in living standards prompts (justifiably) celebratory columns of Korean economic policy and Koreans’ work ethic in Seoul dailies. On the other hand, last year’s announcement of South Korea’s low global ranking in terms of gender equality incited an anxious return to the question of Korea’s level of economic and social development. While Koreans reap the fruits of the “Miracle on the Han River” daily–a subway system far cleaner and efficient than any line in most areas of the world, high-speed internet nearly everywhere in Korea, relatively clean air and high environmental standards, and other comforts of a modern lifestyle–the memory of Korea’s less comfortable past continues to lurk in the minds of Korean intellectuals and haunt casual discussion of Korean economics and politics.

In reading over this literature, it disappoints me to see such anxiety. It’s patently obvious to any casual observer that Korea is a fully developed country with a thriving economy, and has no greater need than any other OECD nation to be concerned about its national development. That said, Koreans’ attentiveness to the development question is understandable, as widespread poverty is still part of many Koreans’ living memory. Additionally, the Korean government, since Park Chung-hee took power in 1961, has made sure that a thriving national economy is a matter of good citizenship. But when does “development anxiety” become unnecessary?

While I do not criticize the existence of this anxiety, I do question its place and productivity in Korean scholarship. Especially in reading over Korean scholarly articles on the nomination of political candidates, I’ve noticed an undue emphasis on how Korea’s current system of candidate nomination is unbecoming of a country that calls itself “developed.” In my work, I see this most often in discussions about political candidate nomination in Korea. Political candidates for each parliamentary district are appointed by kongchŏn committees, which are constructed by Korean political parties and subject to the whims of the Korean president, current National Assembly members, and party leadership. This system of political candidate recruitment in Korea is widely considered to be corrupt and, to wit, “undeveloped” by many Korean scholars.

While there are problems with the kongchŏn process, questions of “fairness” and “development” should not be tied together in discussing how to improve it. Korea’s system of political recruitment is not necessarily good as it exists now, but neither should it be automatically implicated that, just because the system isn’t “fair” in the same way that the States’ system of primaries is perceived to be “fair,” that Koreans’ system of candidate nomination is a sign of political “underdevelopment.” In a word, the question of development obscures more meaningful discussions of what would be a “fair” system for all Koreans, and what fits the Koreans’ unique political system best. Additionally, this also creates undue elevation of the West, especially the United States, which commonly symbolizes all things “democratic” and “developed” in Korean scholarship.

What would be the more productive discussion is asking Korean scholars to re-focus on what “fairness” means to them, or what aspects of their political system are “just” or “unjust” based on native standards. What is needed is careful analysis of power and who holds it, without questioning whether that distribution of power is a sign of “development” or not. Korean scholars should be more sure of their voice and their perspective, and they need not compare Korea’s level of national development to the United States or other Western countries. Accepting Korea’s cultural, political, historical, and economic features as neutrally unique qualities, rather than as signs of Korea’s failure to keep up with standards fitting of an OECD nation, would create room for meaningful discussion of what policies are best for Koreans, and not just Korea’s development. 

It’s a question of cultural contextualization. There will always be room for comparison. To use an example in political science, comparing the percentage of women in the national governing bodies in the United States and Sweden reveals that the United States has much to improve in that area. However, room for improvement would never incite existential questions of the United States’ “modernity” or “national development.” Rather, most political science researchers begin with an inquiry into Swedish policies regarding gender equality, regulations re: gender distribution or candidate recruitment in their parliament, and how those policies might translate into an American cultural and political context.

Similarly, Korean scholars cannot simply assume that the adoption of an American primary system in Korea would automatically fix gender representation problems and the skewed distribution of power in the hands of the corrupt in Korean politics. Such blind adoption of other nations’ practices simply because they have a reputation as being “better” reveals frightening oversight of the flaws and injustice inherent in those systems as well. Fixes for problems like inequality and corruption require much more soul-searching for truly helpful policies. This process should consider the full picture of a country’s cultural and political environment on its own, and not be colored by the conviction that Korea is just trying to keep up with mythical standards of national development.

There is so much that the world has yet to learn from Korea. Korean scholars are excellent researchers and do thorough work, and shame on many foreign scholars for not being equally as knowledgeable in their scholarly literature as they often are in ours. What I hope is that Koreans can forget the question of “development” and replace it with better ones of their own design. No matter Korea or other countries’ level of “development” or perceived “league” of comparison, the United States and the world certainly has something to learn from Korean inquiries, too.

Please take a moment to read through some of James Topple and Colin Riddle’s “Tiger and Bear” comics at their website. You can also find a fascinating interview about the authors and the purpose of the comic strip here. “Tiger and Bear” seeks to show how various people have experienced and perceived Korea’s rapid economic development, and features the writing and artwork of many contributors and illustrators.