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Courtesy of Kasper Rasmussen |
By David A. Tizzard
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I was also conscious of how violent Korean society used to be in the past. The behavior of yesteryear was more confrontational, aggressive, and (for want of a better word) masculine. Spitting, swearing, and pushing were frequent. When waiting for a bus, subway, or elevator, a scrum would form and then everyone would simply charge forward with little regard for order or safety. A friend of mine, a rather powerful executive woman with short bobbed hair, a penchant for earrings and a powerful stride, used to ask me to speak either English or Japanese when we smoked cigarettes together outside because men sometimes approached her and berated her for smoking in public. On a couple of occasions she was even physically assaulted.
Yangbanization
All of this slowly changed and Korean society became more civilized in behavior. Things became more orderly. People began to queue for buses, old people didn't barge past you in the convenience store to order their cigarettes or snacks first, and the spitting seemed to thankfully dry up. Professor Chang Kyung-sup refers to such changes as yangbanization. The yangban were the ruling class of the Joseon Dynasty (1392 to 1897) and held significant political, social, and economic power. They emphasized neo-Confucian principles, education, and propriety and were the opposite of the slaves and lower class people over whom they ruled. By the 1700s, the slave population of Korea was said to have reached a high point of approximately 40% of the country.
Fast forward to South Korea today and as society modernized, people began acting more like yangban and less like the slaves. People bow to each other, they use honorific language, and pour each other's drinks with two hands. Formal titles are used rather than names, from schools to offices and supermarkets. The award-winning director Lee Taewoong once remarked to me that he was worried Korea was becoming a little too polite and perhaps a bit too much like Japan. That it was losing some of its natural character in the civilizing process. To take away someone's demons is also to take away their angels.
Youth safety
And yet all of these ideas of safety and yangbanization seem to be coming crashing down around us as a series of violent and horrific incidents leave people in a state of shock. There is a tangible sense of fear around public areas following crazed attacks with knifes and anonymous warnings of future possible incidents taking place at specific locations in and around the capital.
I spent Thursday afternoon with a university student in Mapo. We recently co-wrote an article exploring the world of Gen Z behavior and lifestyles seen through her eyes and now I wanted to record a podcast with her to put her ideas down in audio form. We eventually spent 3 hours talking about modern Korean life through the eyes of a young woman and discussed her vision of the world. Yet, there was something that shocked me.
Before we met, she said that she couldn't, and wouldn't, meet in the late afternoon or early evening. She didn't want to be out late and was worried about the random acts of murder that were taking place around the country. Thus we met at lunchtime and made it possible for her to be taken home safely afterwards.
Listening to the young
While we spoke, I suggested that perhaps society is getting safer and yet young people feel more anxiety. Perhaps it's social media, perhaps its having lived through an unprecedented global pandemic or climate change becoming more serious with every passing year. But, thinking of all the theories and a little bit of Pinker's "Better Angels" ideas, I suggested that society was, in fact, safe and that we should be doing more to reduce anxiety. Bravely, and as I wanted and expected, she pushed back.
"No. There are people in society who feel aggrieved. Isolated. This makes them dangerous." I listened carefully and followed both her analysis of modern Korea as well as her ideas on how to make the world better. This is her world. Her time. And these are her feelings.
Tragic serendipity
And then, as we both arrived home and reflected on our conversation and the explorations of morality and relativism, the news came through. More people had been attacked. There were more deaths. And the following day bought another series of distressing reports. She didn't tell me "I told you," but she would have had every right to have done so.
It pains me that young people feel scared. That their country feels like a place they should not venture out into in case something disastrous befalls them. The people of Korea have successfully overcome colonization and dictatorship. They now face a new challenge and it is protecting themselves once more from the forces that threaten the psychological and physical wellbeing of residents.
I'm not wise enough to know how this can all be remedied or what the first concrete actions should be. However, I do know enough to suggest that it is vitally important that people with power and influence listen to the younger generation and be willing to embrace change. The words of the Indian philosopher Jiddu Krishnamurti remain as true today as they did when he first wrote them: "In our present culture, we have become accustomed to putting new wine into old bottles and hoping that we can make the new conform to the pattern of the old. But that which is truly new is not recognizable by the old, and the old becomes a hindrance to the new. If we do not see the new, it is not because it is not there, but because we are anchored to the old, and the old, being repetitive, makes us dull, weary, and insensitive."
Dr. David A. Tizzard (datizzard@swu.ac.kr) has a Ph.D. in Korean Studies and lectures at Seoul Women's University and Hanyang University. 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.