What is morality in 21st-century Korea?

Courtesy of Farrukh

By David A. Tizzard

In many ways, we are the first real people to exist without any answer to the question of what we're doing here or, more importantly, what we're meant to do. Secularization and the increasing absence of religious authority have left many modern citizens grappling with existential questions. Worryingly, this situation leads some to conclude that the only answer must be a return to 1950s-esque social cohesion, where any dissenting views are hammered back into shape and we all supposedly live for the greater good.

There needs to be some form of stable society, yes. But society must also be dynamic enough to change and adapt to new and unexpected circumstances. Among all this, somewhere, is the question of morality.

It's not as simple as just obeying the law. Someone could go slightly over the speed limit and we wouldn't automatically think of that person as being immoral, despite the illegal nature of their actions. At the same time, a person could have a series of extramarital affairs and, despite that now being legal (the adultery law in Korea was overturned by the Constitutional Court in 2015), few would argue that it was moral.

President Moon Jae-in suggested this week that the time had come to prohibit dog meat consumption. With a 2020 Humane Society poll suggesting that 84 percent of Korean people won't eat dog meat and that 60 percent support the ban, the president's comments are completely in line with public sentiment rather than individual determination. But the suggestion does raise the question of why more pressing moral issues have not been addressed by the head of state and other elected officials, particularly in the build-up to the next presidential election.

Is it because, by actually taking a stance on the issues of abortion, tattoos and anti-discrimination laws, one immediately loses potential voters? Public officials are often more concerned about their image and future political possibilities than actual moral commitments. Yet, as we contribute to media and public discourse, we should consider our role in bringing about that set of affairs: clickbait and outrage over any statement not expertly curated are jumped on and shoved through people's timelines as the latest "scandals" demanding our attention. But where does that leave us as citizens? Are we just to repeat the same mantra we hear from those in power whenever they are questioned: "si-gi-sang-jo."

Si-gi-sang-jo, which means "now is not the time," is generally used by leaders and public figures in Korea when they don't want to answer a question. There is some validity in understanding that many issues are complex affairs, requiring knowledge of history, culture, law, politics and more. But "si-gi-sang-jo" doesn't mean that. It generally means, "Just don't talk about it, okay?!"

At what moral cost does it come to remain silent on such issues? And to what extent do we allow people in Korea (or anywhere else) to suffer based on the needs of the greater good?

I don't want people deciding for me what I should think is moral, and I certainly won't be suggesting the same for others. That we are given the possibilities of coming to terms with our own questions of morality and goodness is of great importance. But what are the questions we should be thinking about today in Korea?

Is it immoral to eat dog meat if the meat is prepared in the same way that chicken, cows, salmon, and eels are? Is it simply the process which is abhorrent, or is there something more valuable in dogs as a species when compared to the others? Is it immoral to love someone of the opposite sex? Is it immoral to love someone of the same sex? Is it immoral to live with other people outside of marriage? Can love actually be immoral in that sense? What about the prostitution and entertainment venues that are visible in all of the country's major cities? Are these immoral? If they are, and they are illegal, why do they remain? If they are not immoral, why are they illegal?

Then there are the people smoking cigarettes; cigarettes have been banned from television but are still readily available in stores. Is it immoral to smoke two packs a day? How about one joint? Soju? Beer at lunch? Is it immoral to have a tattoo? Some television programs ban them. It is illegal to work as a tattoo artist without a medical license, but is it immoral? It is illegal to gamble in Korea. But is it immoral to bet 5 bucks on the outcome of a football game? 500 bucks? 5,000? And so on and so on.

Is it illegal to commit suicide? Korea still tops the OECD's list in that regard and it is the number one cause of death for young people. Are people immoral when they choose to do so? Or are we immoral for contributing to a society which has double the developed world's average?

There are of course many more issues. And by not discussing any of these things, society retains an element of cohesion ― but at what moral cost? What about those suffering for the psychological peace-of-mind of those in the majority? Why do more not "walk away from Omelas," or from the notion of a utopia for the majority based on the suffering of a minority?

Dr. David A. Tizzard (datizzard@swu.ac.kr) has a Ph.D. in Korean Studies. He is a social/cultural commentator and musician who has lived in Korea for nearly two decades. He is also the host of the Korea Deconstructed podcast, which can be found online. The views expressed in the article are the author's own and do not reflect the editorial direction of The Korea Times.