Safety in Korea: Forming Good Habits

I was recently invited onto a panel discussion on tbs eFM Primetime - an English speaking radio station in Seoul - to talk about safety in Korea.  I was originally invited to give my point of view about South Korean cultural involvement in the Sewol tragedy, but couldn't do it, so they invited me to the next relevant debate instead.

Because I live about as far from Seoul as you can be in Korea, I was not able to appear in person in the studio, which was a pity, but I gave some points in a short telephone interview.  You can listen to the whole program by searching here (on Wednesday May 7th) and I found the perspective of the two university professors in the studio quite interesting.

I won't go into the whole discussion, for this post I will only focus on one aspect of the debate.  During the discussion on the radio, both myself and one of the professors in the studio came up with an interesting point about getting into good habits regarding safety.

I actually think Koreans are being a bit hard on themselves and the other professor in the discussion made some quite scathing comments about Koreans being uncivilised, uncaring, even describing them as animals for such things as not forming orderly queues.  Many articles have also been written in the Korean media about how they as a society care too much about money and getting things done quickly and don't care about people enough. Perhaps there is some truth to this, it's possible the country as a whole has become too obsessed with success and economic development and it was certainly a factor in the poor safety practices at my wife's hospital when she worked in Korea.  But I think a general lack of safety awareness and a poor understanding of risk are the greater culprits.

The situation on the roads is a perfect example of this.  In my experience, lots of people cross the road without looking both ways, sometimes not even looking at all or with their heads buried in their smart phones. Inside cars, I have had the experience of siting in the back of a car with a Korean mother driving with her son of 12 years old in the passenger seat and who was wearing no seat belt and have friends who recall similar experiences.  I also get regular lifts to play squash with a man who has a young daughter (4 years old) who sits with no seat belt on in the back seat while he drives at ridiculous speeds, weaving in and out of traffic, while texting and calling people on his phone.  I shut my eyes and pray for the best.

I should say something in these circumstances, and I would in my own country in the same situations (I doubt whether it would ever happen though), but if I did (especially in my clumsy Korean) I would be worried that it would come across as me insinuating that they don't care for their children or that they are bad parents. Just like the person who tells the mother of a screaming baby on a long-haul flight to keep him/her quiet, you are never the good guy in such situations.  Perhaps I should say something anyway, it might save their lives one day.

Yet, from what I know of this mother and of my friend who I play squash with, they would do anything for their children.  I am sure they would throw themselves in front of a bus or run into a burning building to save them.  I see them dote on them and I simply can't believe that they don't care enough.  And the people with their heads in their smart phones as they cross the road; what monetary gain or time-saving are they getting out of doing it?  And don't they care about their own lives?

It leads me to think that probably the main issue here is ignorance of risk and safety and that this state of being leads easily into ignoring it for profit and time saving.  I think this is cultural as I see it everywhere. People's everyday habits and actions are just not attuned to common dangers.  Most of these good habitual practices can be taught and drummed into people of a very young age and it can start as soon as children can walk and talk, pick up chopsticks or a knife and fork, or learn about respecting their elders in speech.

Crossing the road is a classic example of this.  Much of the time, I can find myself walking around in something of a day dream, my senses aren't heightened to danger all the time, even when I am crossing the road (although I do make more of a conscious effort in Korea).  But by force of habit, when I hit the edge of a pavement, I look both ways.  The funny thing is that it took about a year of living in Korea to look the correct way at the correct time when crossing the road, because in England the traffic comes from the opposite direction.  I found myself being more careful because my brain was so confused.  You'd think it would be simple, just look the opposite way when you should, but so ingrained the behaviour was, it took almost a year of crossing streets day in day out to get over it.

Whilst I think England has much better habits when it comes to safety, I have increasingly felt that the country has gone too far in its concern for it.  Masses of red tape need to be dealt with even relating to the most minor risks imaginable.  Health and safety has become something that people really detest and it causes a significant reduction in civil liberties and personal responsibility due to the laws and other obstacles you have to overcome to do almost anything at all.  It also opens people up for being liable for other's injuries and too many people seek compensation when they don't deserve it.  One of the things I enjoy about Korea is that I feel freer living here.  I hope it is not inevitable that, in time, improving health and safety will turn into an unhealthy obsession with it, like in England.  Why oh why can we not meet in the middle between the two cultures, on this and many other issues?

Is Everyone Deeply Moved by the Sewol Tragedy?

I have been contemplating the possibility that I am one seriously heartless bastard lately. This may surprise some of the people who know me best because I think they would say I am a really nice guy, not short of an opinion or two and a bit argumentative, but nice nonetheless.

So why have I been thinking this?  Well this is going to sound horrible, but I really don't have a huge emotional response to the Sewol tragedy.  However, I am interested in it for sure, it is a fascinating story of calamitous errors, negligence, and corruption, and there is an interesting debate about the causes, the culture, the government, and all that.

Don't get me wrong, when I see a report I get a little sad and angry because I teach high schoolers in Korea and they are a great bunch of kids and I am a human being with a soul (no, really I am a human being, the soul bit is a just a figure of speech as I don't actually believe in all that stuff, but you know what I mean).  But after I have finished reading an article or watching a report on the Sewol disaster, I emotionally switch-off very quickly.  If I am being honest with myself, I think this means that I really don't care that much.  What I do care about, though, is the potential for something to happen to me or someone I love in Korea because of a safety concern, as Korea is not the safest of places when it comes to having avoidable accidents.  This is, however, slightly mitigated by low crime; I am far more likely to find myself with a bottle smashed over my head for no reason in my own country, for example, so I lose little sleep worrying about a disastrous tomorrow.

I lose even less sleep thinking about those poor passengers on the Sewol, but judging by what I have read, everyone else appears to be deeply moved:

From the Wall Street Journal:  Children's Day Becomes a Day of Grief

From CNN: Ferry Disaster's Toll on Korean Psyche

I just don't feel this way and maybe I married a heartless Korean woman, but she is hardly at the point of despair either, in fact most I have met, Korean or not, as this tragedy has played itself out over the last few weeks have not seemed that upset either.  Maybe they are good at hiding it or I'm terrible at seeing it, but with the people I know well, they must be damn good actors.  I simply am not observing this deep sense of sadness, guilt and mourning that other observers say they are experiencing here.  Maybe there is a greater intensity occurring in Ansan and the surrounds of Seoul, where most of the writing has come from and where most of the passengers that died came from.  But I know one thing for sure, not all expats, not all Koreans, and certainly not everyone worldwide has been "deeply affected by the Sewol tragedy".

So, I hate to say it, but I am left with the feeling of scepticism that what is being written by many is an accurate expression of their true emotions, or the country's as a whole, and not just a popular exaggeration. I get the same feeling with news broadcasters, that they are saying what they think they should say rather than genuinely feeling it.

This sounds unfair, I don't know what is going on in their heads.  In my head, I read with scepticism and the feeling it is a bit sickly sweet and OTT.  It is surely my problem, not theirs, what's wrong with me?  Why don't I feel the same sense of sadness?  I am sure what they wrote is genuine and from the heart, but I can't help but feel the world is awash with people who say they care, but really don't.

I don't think I am in the minority of people who are - when you think about it - a bit heartless.  With so much suffering in the world not only occurring, but being beamed on to our computers and TV screens, it would be impossible to run our daily lives without regularly going into fits of depression if we cared so much about it all.

It could all be down to evolution.  Altruism has more than likely evolved in an environment of small groups of, often related, kin.  We have evolved to care about the suffering of others right in front of our eyes and to those we are closely related to.  Fortunately, the urge regularly fires-up for strangers and even animals when we see them suffering pain or distress, but it still usually needs to be happening right in front of us for us to take notice. Is this why I feel something when I watch a news report about a tragic event, but then it subsides quickly when I switch off (the old 'out of sight, out of mind' tendency)?  In a classic argument by Peter Singer (The Shallow Pond Problem), he highlights this misfiring of empathy and morality with a simple thought experiment (skip to 2 minutes in for the argument):

Another favourite writer of mine, Sam Harris, has written about this failure of compassion as well, but also highlights another concerning misfiring of our instinct for compassion, empathy and caring, and that is that it tends to go down with the more people we see or know are suffering (see 'Genocide Neglect', Slovic 2007). This partly explains the success charities have with adoption programs, where instead of giving money to help 1 million people in Africa affected by malaria, we sponsor one child instead.  Of course in reality, your money goes to help many people, but by appealing to just one, the charity is more successful in making people donate.  Harris explains this 'moral illusion' in the video below at 58mins 30 secs:

So it appears that I am not unique.  In a way, I am envious of the bloggers and writers I linked to above if they really do genuinely feel that way and show it.  Because as much as I know I should feel a great deal more empathy for the passengers and the families of the Sewol tragedy than I did, say, when my in-laws tied a puppy Jindo dog named Noah up outside in the cold (that I took care of for a while, read this post), I don't.  I can logically understand that I am wrong here and that I have warped priorities, but I don't feel emotion for the passengers with anywhere near the same force as I did for that dog, not even close.

I know this lack of emotion in me for such tragedies in the lives of others is a real problem in the world. Without the emotion, people will fail to act in meaningful ways to stop mass suffering, and sure enough, people do just that, I do just that.

I do see a pattern occurring in the world of the internet at the moment.  When you work in Korea, you have a lot of time, often at work while desk-warming, to browse around the internet and writing this blog encourages me to do this even more.  What I see is heaps of moral outrage, emotion-filled messages of support for those in need, and internet campaigns to improve the lives of others and fight injustice in the world.  But too much of it seems empty and pointless at the end of the day; lots of words, no action, and the moral outrage and outpourings of emotion never last long on one subject, we just move onto the next story to get our emotional fix and we are saturated by examples of injustice and sad stories.  I think it is problematic because it creates the illusion that something is being done and the illusion that you are helping, when in reality, nothing is being done and you yourself are doing nothing as well.  While the internet has a strength in raising awareness of issues, its weakness is definitely in what I describe above.

I am troubled by my lack of compassion, not just about the Sewol disaster, but all manner of problems in the world and the fact that until writing this sentence I hadn't really even given a moments thought to the fact that undoubtedly significantly more lives were lost on the roads in Korea this year.  Why care about that any less? Perhaps it is impossible to care about everything, or perhaps my heart is not capacious enough, maybe I am indeed truly heartless.

Note:  Due to criticism that I might be insinuating disingenuous shows of emotion by fellow bloggers I have removed quotes from them out of good taste.  It was never my intention to question their motives and I apologise to those I did quote if it came across that way.

Lessons from the Buddha and the Sewol Disaster about Living in the Moment

I thought I'd focus on a theme that bears some relation to topics I have written about recently as well as a little more regarding the Sewol disaster, and that is the quality of life of teenagers in Korea.

One thing that makes this whole disaster possibly even more upsetting is the number of young people who were the victims of it, mostly high school students.

The tragic death of a student at my school a couple of months ago got me thinking how much of his short life seems to have been based on studying very hard for a future he will now sadly never experience.  Now, with the horrors of the Sewol disaster as well, this has hit me with even sharper focus.  I wonder whether the young survivors of the disaster will now look at their lives rather differently and strive for a richer life in the present and not simply search for their (or their parents) ideal future.

I am often saddened by the amount of times I ask the question, "What did you do this weekend?", to my students (of a range of ages across all the jobs I've had in Korea, but most recently my high school students) and their answer, even in the school holidays, is "Study".  I used to have a private student, of 13 years old, who spent 12 hours every Sunday in the library, and the vast majority of his waking hours on every other day of the week studying as well - not by choice I might add - and his situation was not unique.

In recent history, many people in the West have looked to the East for answers about how to live the good life and be happy, and specifically they have often looked to Buddhism to show the way (my own cousin can be named among these people).  The West's focus on material possessions, money and building for a better future are all called into question by a belief system that focuses on relinquishing the material and an inner peace in the here and now, rather than dwelling on the past or putting too much emphasis on a dream of a better future. Right here and now is all we really have, yet most people's attention is firmly rooted in the past or the future, never really appreciating the present moment.   I, like many people perhaps, often find myself looking forward too much and not enjoying the present enough.

I am no expert on, or a follower of, Buddhism, and I believe most of its claims to be bogus, but one thing I am not sceptical about is the value of practices like meditation to enlighten ourselves about the here and now and the importance of it and taking time to try and rid ourselves of the plethora of thoughts and worries buzzing around in our heads.

Despite Korea being a country with strong Buddhist traditions and a great deal of temples dotted around its mountainous landscape, Korean society appears to have totally lost touch with some of the principles of Buddhism that could really do it a lot of good.

Ironically, I have heard a number of Korean people criticising Western culture for being overly materialistic, but Korea is a place that values material wealth more than any other place I have ever visited.  It is also a culture obsessed with the future. People are always searching for a perfect tomorrow; to go to a good university, to get a good job, to get married, to have children, to help pay for their parents retirement, etc. Now we all do this to a degree, but many Koreans take this to the extreme and pressurise young people into thinking about their futures all the time in a very inflexible and expectant way, hence the crazy education culture, the general lack of sleep, and all those hours of hard work and study.

From my viewpoint, my hope is that the Sewol disaster might just serve to give Korea as a nation a wake up call (although I'm not terribly optimistic); not just about practices regarding safety, but as a reminder that all of us are just one second away to our ends, one step away from walking in front of a bus, one diagnosis away from falling terminally ill, and one journey away from never returning.  If this happens to us at any age, could we look back on our lives and say it was all worthwhile, that we lived as good a life as possible, or even simply that we enjoyed life while we had it?

We all need to plan for the future to some extent, but when I think of the all the high school students on that ferry my thoughts turn to just what the last few years of their lives would have been like.  If they are anything like the students I have come to know in Korea, most of their time will have been spent with their heads in books, night and day, and being pressured by parents and teachers to prepare for a tomorrow that might never actually come.  Korea is now an economically wealthy, well-developed country, isn't it about time it used this fact to make the people happier and aid them in living more fulfilling lives?  It feels like this aspect of the disaster has been somewhat ignored, so far at least.  With any luck at some point in the near future, the next time a young person dies, their short time on this earth won't seem to be as poorly spent when much greater happiness and life experiences were possible.

The Sewol Ferry Disaster: Why we Must Question some Aspects of Korean Culture

jinjoo2713 (Naver User)

In the aftermath of great tragedies, one must be thorough in drawing conclusions about the causes and the way people respond in times of trouble and be careful not to explain away matters on handy scapegoats.  Asking pertinent questions is very much a part of this.

The captain of the Sewol and his crew were obviously in the wrong, their individual actions and orders cost lives and they should rightly be brought to justice.  However, the reasons behind their actions are complex.  It is convenient for everyone, including Park Geun Hye and her government, to brush away the issues highlighted by this disaster as the result of solely individual errors and incompetence.  This may be so, but they have to be more thorough than that.

There have been a variety of articles written that place a fair amount of blame on Korean culture for what happened (many from Koreans themselves), and inevitably people have become upset, calling this simplistic and racist (mostly non-Koreans).  I have two thoughts on this; 1) Yes, it is simplistic to say that culture is the sole cause for the disaster, of course it's not, but I have not heard anyone make this claim, only that it may be part of the reason for it or exacerbated it; 2) It is not racist, how can it be?  We are talking about culture, not DNA. People that constantly make this claim are using a kind of language which is not true, unhelpful, and emotive.

The truth is, individuals are significantly influenced by the culture in which they are brought up and this drastically impacts on their individual thoughts and actions.  It is too simplistic to say culture caused the disaster, but did it play a role?  I would argue that the evidence so far suggests it may very well have done, and it is not wrong to suggest it as a possibility and should not be insulting to do so.

I think there are two main aspects of Korean culture which may have helped cause or exacerbate the catastrophe (and I think they are linked):

1. Hierarchical Respect Culture
2. A disregard for rules and regulations and lack of knowledge of safety procedures

Of the two factors, number 2 might be the most important.  "But this hasn't got anything to do with culture", I hear you say.  But you'd be wrong.  Sure, one can't blame it on Confucianism (the usual turn-to) or pinpoint it to other parts of cultural history, but a lack of respect for safety protocols, rules, and regulations is a modern day cultural issue in Korea and is something all of us who live here regularly see. This is why I shake my head in disbelief that articles like this pop-up, titled "Stop Blaming Korean Culture for Last Week's Ferry Disaster", especially when they go on to write this:

"The real problem, at all levels, seems to be protocol—or rather, the absence of one. Kim Su Bin, a classmate of Lim’s at Danwon High School in Ansan, pointed out that passengers did not receive any safety instruction before or during the trip, and that life jackets were available on the fourth floor but not on the third. A communication’s officer for the Sewol has admitted to the crew’s lack of evacuation training, or the enforcement thereof. And the indecision written all over the transcripts between harbor officials and the Sewol crew reveals an apparent dearth of actionable protocol for either side in the event of such a calamity."

The author then goes on to quote a journalist in South Korea:

“The main point is not culture,” said Jaehwan Cho, a Seoul-based journalist covering the events on his Twitter, in an interview on Sunday. “The main point is government structure... We need to turn our eyes to the government situation, government atmosphere. If we can revise those things, I don’t think this kind of disaster will happen again.”

He is at least partly right, government is an issue, but the lack of a safety protocol, instructions, lack of training, etc, could very well be heavily linked to culture because this is not something unique to this situation and it is not all the government's fault.  And after all, where does government come from if not the people and the culture that created it?

When I spoke to my wife about all this, she told me that when she worked as a nurse in a hospital in Korea she was given no fire safety training, but legally she was supposed to, she was even given a form to sign to say she had.  When she said she had no such training, she was simply told to sign it by her superiors anyway.  Irresponsible of my wife? In the atmosphere of the Korean workplace, in reality she had no choice whatsoever, you simply can't question your superiors, if she had refused, her life would have been made very difficult (a subtle way respect hierarchies reduce safety).

So, if there was a fire in that hospital, you might well have had a similar situation occurring as to what happened on the Sewol; panicked people searching for members of staff to tell them where to go and what to do and the response and information would have been poor because the problem is that the patients in the hospital and the passengers on the ferry would have had about as much information on safety as the people who were supposed to be in charge.

Also, people in junior positions are regularly thrown into the deep end and given responsibility for things they perhaps should have been better trained and equipped for. In my wife's case, she became a surgery room nurse and her training consisted of sitting-in on only one or two surgeries and watching (she did many different kinds of joint surgery) and then told to learn terms and instruments at home on her own time. Basically, she had no training and learnt on the job - and was often shouted at and bullied by doctors when she made inevitable mistakes every now and then.  To make matters worse, in the quest for profits and the busy world of Korea, she was forced to rush from patient to patient, hastily sterilising instruments (and often having minor accidents as a result; cuts, burns etc), and feeling extreme pressure to finish important and possibly hazardous tasks quickly (빨리 빨리!).

I see this kind of thing everywhere in Korea, therefore I think it is fair to say that this has become part of the culture and needs changing.  Whether you agree with this or not, my hypothesis is not racist because I am saying it is cultural, not racial, and because it is not about race, it is something that can be changed; it is not written in their DNA and not set in stone.

The exact reason why I believe hierarchical respect culture was a factor is different to most other commentators on this subject.  I simply don't know what passengers from Western countries would have done had they been given the same orders to stay below deck by the captain.  I actually think saying they were being overly obedient is probably a bit simplistic, perhaps this was a factor, but I think this is something we can't really know and it is harsh and insensitive to blame the passengers, who were obviously scared victims of someone else's mistakes and a desperately unfortunate situation.

As I have mentioned already the effect of respect culture is probably more subtle on this disaster.  It is the role of the crew and the captain that needs more focus and these are the questions I would ask:

1. Why didn't any of the crew question the captain's orders, and if they did, why did it not have any effect?
2. Why was the captain away from the bridge when the accident occurred?
3. Why did it take so long to correct the original order of staying below deck?
4. Why did they go off the original course in the first place?
5. Why was the response so slow by rescue teams?

Of course we don't know the answers to any of these questions yet, but I am going to highlight some of the side effects I see day to day in Korea of rigid respect hierarchies and I will leave it to you to connect the dots:

1. People rarely question orders of superiors, even when they are obviously wrong sometimes.
2. The sense of entitlement being of higher age or rank gives people often affords them the luxury of sitting back and letting those below them do most of the difficult work.
3. When mistakes are made by elders or those of superior rank, they can be very stubborn in admitting them and will often carry on regardless or hope everything will be alright in order to save face.
4. Protocol, rules, and regulations are often ignored by people who have high status because they feel they know better and are above them.
5. Respect hierarchies are inefficient, causing a lack of initiative in individuals and can cause slow responses by waiting for orders of superiors.

Now I am not saying these factors are all definitely related and this is exactly what happened, but it is everyone's responsibility to consider all of these a possibility.  In fact they are questions you could ask people of any culture, but Korean culture accentuates things when it comes to issues of status and respect.  If you refuse to acknowledge them for fear of being a racist or upsetting those of another culture, you may be sending others to their doom in the future.  People's lives, whoever and wherever they are, are more important than the risk of offending cultural sensibilities.

Finally, if someone were to hypothesise that the 7/7 bombings in the UK had something to do with British culture, why on earth would I be offended?  I just don't understand it.  In fact, one could make a good argument that British culture played a role (over-politeness, political correctness, and tolerance of even the dangerous and intolerant for fear of giving offence) in the creation of the Muslim radicals (the UK seems to be quite good at cultivating them) who hatched the plot and carried it out.  Not only that, but even if it had nothing to do with British culture in the end, it would have been our responsibility to question it (and many did) and at least rule it out.

In fact the two examples correlate rather nicely because in the case of the 7/7 bombings it was the actions of psychotic and brainwashed individuals; in the Sewol disaster it seems it was the actions of incompetent individuals in positions of responsibility.  We can leave it at that on both disasters and hope both never happen again, but it must be discovered whether in each case such disasters were a one-off or whether there is something about each culture that might encourage future similar events.  In the case of British culture, might it encourage radical Muslims to flourish?  And is there something about Korean culture that encourages incompetence, danger and confusion, in potentially dangerous situations, to flourish?

The only way to find out and be as thorough as possible in avoiding future disasters is to ask questions, which it seems is easy and not at all insulting to do with British or American culture, but when we do it to non-Western cultures like Korea, we suddenly turn into racist simpletons.

Korean Teenagers and Well-Being

Over the past two years or so I have written frequently about what a stressful and depressing life Korean teenagers are having in Korea, so it was to my surprise that South Korea came third recently in a study of well-being in teenagers from different countries.

In the linked article above, I do think the title is a little deceptive, in that although well-being and happiness are linked, they are not the same.  I would argue strongly that South Korea is not an example of a country with especially happy teenagers, and I'm sure many would be on my side.  Korea's notorious suicide statistics and a recent poll finding that about half of all teenagers have contemplated suicide, would also seem to contradict the notion that South Korean teenagers are the third happiest in the world.

It is interesting to see how the study was compiled and how it favoured Korea in the parameters it measured:

"To create the index, the researchers looked at 40 indicators to assess "citizen participation, economic opportunity, education, health, information and communications technology (ICT), and safety and security" among the world's youth (defined as people 12 to 24)."

Listed in among the factors quoted are some of the really fantastic things about Korea. There is no doubt that in some departments Korea has done many things right, especially the last three; health (in young people), ICT, and safety and security.  General organisation and efficiency in Korea is also something I find much better than in many countries, particularly my own.  Life for teenagers in Korea is certainly convenient, well-organised, and relatively free from dangerous temptations and situations.

However, the problem with fairly narrow studies like this is the lack of attention to detail and the message it may send out.  Education is a perfect example; while I am sure Korea scored highly for education (it regularly tops world league tables), Korean education of the young is something that significantly contributes to unhappiness.  One can't help but also notice that if you keep students cooped-up in a classroom all day (and on many occasions, all-night), of course they'll be safer.  Just like house cats have less danger and tend to live longer than those that are given free reign to go outside and come and go as they please.  But what kind of cat would you rather be?

Economic opportunities is another thing to be careful in making assumptions about happiness, because while Koreans do have opportunities and in my experience finding a job is much easier (for Koreans and non-Koreans) than in my own country (Korea has the lowest unemployment rate in the OECD), work life in Korea is stressful.  Koreans work some of the longest hours, taking away time with family and friends and time for relaxation. Hierarchies at work also cause troubles, giving their bosses too much control of their lives.  Young people are always at the bottom of these hierarchies, often leading to the worst of working conditions, and the lowest levels of respect and job satisfaction.

But even if it was crystal clear that South Korea was doing a better job than most other countries with regard to the well-being of its youth, does this mean it is doing good enough?

What has always fascinated me about Korea is that its problems are so obvious, and what's more Koreans are so aware of the problems they have in their society, they just seem powerless or unwilling to change them.  It is not a question of Johny foreigner coming over here and noticing the problems they can't see, in my experience very few Koreans are ignorant of the issues they have in society.

In a heartbeat South Korean society could make things so much better for young people if they simply took some of the weight off their shoulders.  The obsessive compulsive nature of education in Korea is the major culprit of unhappiness.

Even small steps would make a great difference; students could still study long hours for example, just give them less homework and encourage more sleep.  As I said in last week's post, why are Korean high school students sleeping only 4 or 5 hours a night? Surely, a healthy amount of sleep would improve their performance and make them happier at the same time.

The study on well-being actually does show some huge positives for the way Korean society has been organised.  Korea is so close to being a place that is really great to live.  There are many ways in which Korea trumps other places in the world to live, but fails in ways that are so unnecessary it becomes frustrating to be a part of it all.

In my own personal opinion, there are a few key issues that would really make Korea a wonderful place to live if they could change their ways slightly:

1. A less rigid adherence to respect culture hierarchies.
2. A greater respect for worker's rights (and individual rights generally).
3. Less concern with petty status games and jealousy.
4. Being less OCD when it comes to education.
5. Being less nationalistic.
6. Enforcing laws (e.g. traffic laws).

Korea has always struck me as a nation of extremes in these regards; it would only take a little adjustment of each of these factors and one might see Korea rising to the top of more positive tables and statistics, like those concerned with well-being, and lifting off the bottom of the less desirable measures of societies, like suicides.

Korea's Contempt for Sleep

Recent research suggests that a lack of quality sleep can kill brain cells, and this comes on the back of a great deal of research suggesting a range of health-related problems due to not getting enough shut-eye.

As a person who is almost obsessively into exercise, I have always been aware of the value of sleep in rejuvenating the body, but I had always just assumed that everyone else did also.  I think most people in England know how important sleep is and try to do their best to make sure they get enough, although many ultimately fail for different reasons.  In Korea, however, I am regularly surprised just how little sleep people are getting and how most simply don't see this as a big deal.

The story starts with my high school students - who I always feel sorry for.  These guys are at high school from 8am until 10.30pm and this is bad enough, but I asked them one time about what they do when they finish school and some of the replies were quite shocking.  Some - indeed many - go for more schooling at a private academy (Hagwon) and many have homework on top of this.  I questioned them about when they go to bed and most said about 1 or 2am.  They then usually woke up at about 6 - 7am on school days.  This gave an average of about 4 to 5 hours sleep a night for most students, 6 hours being a luxury.

I would go as far to say that maintaining such a sleep pattern in growing adolescent boys is impossible, or at least unhealthy, and it may actually be detrimental to their studies (it must be, surely).  Sure enough, high school students can be a sleepy lot at school, which makes them sleep in classes and lose concentration. They also talk about the subject constantly:

Teacher: What do you wish?
Student:  I wish I could sleep all day.

Teacher: What did you do at the weekend?
Student:  Sleep.

Teacher:  What do you enjoy?
Student:  Sleep.

Teacher:  When are you happy?
Student:  When I'm sleeping.

Teacher:  What did you do in your vacation?
Student:  Sleep (and study).

Teacher:  What's your ambition in life?
Student:  To sleep for 24 hours in a day.

I could go on and on, I'm sure my students mention sleep in almost every class.

The physical health risks of lack of sleep are well documented, but there is also a significant risk to mental health.  A recent poll in South Korea suggests that half of Korean teenagers contemplate suicide.  The combination of societal pressure for success, long hours of study and lack of sleep seems to be taking its toll on young people.

It is not just young people, though, a general contempt for sleep seems to pervade throughout Korean culture, synonymous with the hard-work attitude Koreans feel has elevated their economy and wealth in such a short period of time.

I teach a couple in their fifties conversational English in the evening after school. They have an annoying habit of calling me 30 minutes before their scheduled class sometimes and cancelling. Sometimes I rush through my day, fitting in workouts in the early morning so I can teach them in the evening (sometimes I am even on the way to their place when they cancel).  I told the wife of the couple they need to cancel earlier because I am very busy, but this seems to have made little difference.  Anyway, this led us on to chatting about how busy they were, the wife especially.  She seemed to own at least a couple of businesses and said she was always in meetings and at work, or at least working at home.  I asked her what time she went to sleep at night and she said at about midnight; not too bad, I thought.  But when I asked her what time she woke up, she replied, "at 2 or 3 am".  I couldn't quite believe her, she doesn't even look that tired most of the time; 2 or 3 hours of sleep a night after working all day?!

Now, she could be lying of course, but I don't know why she would and even in the unlikely event that she was, one would have to wonder why she would proudly say that she only had 2 or 3 hours sleep a night.

This seems to be the case with basically everyone I meet here, I think I am yet to find a person who sleeps 7 hours a night or over and there is a strange tone of pride in their voice when they tell me how little they sleep. Are people really working this hard and sleeping this little?

Recently, Korea hit the headlines for more negative reasons in articles that claimed South Koreans had the lowest productivity at work in the OECD.  This article suggests many very good reasons for this, but lack of sleep doesn't really get a mention. However, very much prevalent in the summation of the situation is that appearing to work hard is more important than actually doing so.  Is that what people are doing when I ask them about their sleep patterns?  Are they just giving me the impression that they live hard, busy lives?  My own feeling is that there could be a combination of both true hard-work and lack of rest and some porky pies to make them look even more diligent.

It is true that, at certain periods in your life, you may need to sacrifice quality sleep temporarily in order to get important things done, but there appears to be something more permanent about Korea's attitude towards sleeping.  It is taking, "You snooze, you lose" to extraordinary new levels and apparently many are proud of it and parents, businesses, schools, and society demand it too.  Could Koreans benefit from more sleep? Surely, their lives would be much happier and more productive if they took a little more time for some quality rest at night.

Why does it Happen? Some Korean Cultural Conclusions

It has come to my attention that foreigners in Korea (including me) often use cultural explanations for much of the behaviour that can be seen by Korean people and also sometimes draw conclusions from it.  Why is that?

There will be a significant number of people who will chalk it down to prejudice or a lack of understanding, and to be fair in some people, and with some issues, this may very well be the case.  However, the story is not a simple as that.  In my opinion, there are obvious traits about Korean culture that stand-out and that guide us to cultural conclusions, and these are very often the right ones.  Let's go through a few and I will highlight the simplified cultural explanation (SCE) and see if there is any truth to it:


Plastic Surgery

It is pretty undeniable that there is a bit of an obsession with plastic surgery in Korea, but why is that?

SCE: Koreans want to change their appearance to look more White Western.

Now, of course, this is not entirely true; Koreans have many home-grown reasons for valuing things, like pale skin, for example, and appearance is obviously important to many people regardless of what they are from.  But the coincidence between two of the more popular surgeries (nose and eye-lid) and a White Western appearance cannot be over-looked, as well as the admiration for White models.  I notice peculiar things like White Western models plastered over posters for all manner of things and I find it hard to believe that this would happen in, say, England in reverse with lots of Asian models, even though England is more culturally diverse.

My wife also believes that many Korean women, in particular, admire a White Western look and this is one of the reasons why some of them choose to have plastic surgery, and she is always right.

My Conclusion: Obviously, high rates of plastic surgery in Korea are not solely or even mainly motivated by a longing for a White Western look, but I believe it is a factor.  Korean people look just fine to me (I married one!), they need not admire a White Western look, but many surely do.


Air Crashes

I will be brief because I have covered this at some length before, here, here, and here!  This subject has animated me because hierarchical respect culture, in my opinion, is the worst aspect of Korean culture and is the part of the culture I have seen cause a lot of hardship, stress, and suffering on Korean people and at times I think can be dangerous.

SCE: A suspicion of the involvement of Korean hierarchical respect culture in miscommunication in the cockpit is justified as a possible explanation for crashes of Korean airliners.

The blanket assertion that Korean culture is the sole cause for crashes is wrong.  And certainty in saying it is the cause before evidence is in, is also wrong.  However, there is some history regarding Korean airline crashes and odd breakdowns in communication and pilot error. There is also the experience many people have of living in Korea and dealing with the extreme discomfort of talking to and questioning superiors and elders that most Koreans have (people in all countries experience this, but I believe that in Korea it is magnified).  My wife once recanted a tale of how this actually jeopardised a patient's life on the operating table when she was a nurse and often speaks of a strong dislike for the rigidity of Korean respect culture in all relationships, but especially working relationships.

My Conclusion: The everyday behaviour of Koreans, the logic of the hierarchical etiquette system, and previous history mean that it is justified to hypothesise/suspect Korean cultural involvement in plane crashes, when no clear mechanical fault is easily identifiable.  This theorising can also rightly be attributed to Korean airlines, even though it is not often used as an explanation for crashes of airliners from other nations given the logic, history, and evidence involved.


Nationalism and Japan

SCE: Koreans are so nationalistic and bitter they are overly petty and ridiculous about a range of issues involving Japan.

I am mostly on Korea's side when it comes to issues with Japan.  Many in the pro-Japanese camp will say they have apologised again and again, but Korea just doesn't take notice and they want Japan to beg and grovel.  I happen to think, however, that the Japanese government are regularly insincere with their apologies and don't back apologies up with any action, as well as constant denials of obvious wrongdoings in the past. The "Comfort Women' issue is a perfect example of this.  And now the Japanese are even thinking of taking back an old apology, they are clearly in the wrong and Koreans are right to be upset about their handling of the 'Comfort Women' situation.

The problem is, though, many Koreans appear to enjoy shooting themselves in the foot and alienating possible supporters by going over the top in their hatred of Japan and by constantly reminding everyone of why they are upset.  Dokdo is a great example; the foreign community are just tired of hearing about it and we don't really care.  I personally think that, as a gesture of goodwill for past misdeeds, the Japanese government could be gracious and hand it over to the Koreans, I am on the Korean's side in this.

What turns me off, however, is the propaganda about Dokdo, especially to the young.  I once saw a kids swimming tube with "Dokdo is our land" written all over it in a supermarket (I thought this was distasteful to say the least) and I know it is taught to kids in school.  Nationalistic passions and hatred are stirred-up in the young about the subject and I find this must be unhelpful in building better ties with Japan in the future and coming to an amicable agreement.  Teach Kids about history, sure, but there is no need to bring a political issue of land ownership into the minds of often young children.

My Conclusion: Yes, the Japanese are essentially to blame, are quite snidy, and they seem to do their best to rile South Korea, but by continually stirring-up hatred of the Japanese (particularly in the young) and by refusing to take any moral high-ground and do any forgiving whatsoever,  it is all a god-awful mess of sometimes quite daft and petty nationalism, the kind no one around the world wants to be seen choosing sides on or getting involved in.


Nationalism and Sport

Matt May http://www.flickr.com/photos/35237094679@N01/4357288771/

SCE: Koreans are sore losers in the international sports arena and are prone to influencing officials or being unfair if they see a chance they can win.

One should be careful not to discriminate to all individuals when using cultural explanations, and this is a perfect example.  Kim Yun Ah (legend), for instance, was a class apart and incredibly gracious in accepting her silver medal in the Sochi Olympics, despite what many thought was a dubious and unjust judgement.  The public reaction, however, although admittedly better than in the past, was still rather obsessive.  An estimated 90% of the 1.5 million signatures on change.org, (now about 2 million), for example came from Koreans. When you think of all the great injustices of the world that languish behind a figure skating decision, it is pretty telling of an inability to move on and maybe taking a sporting event a fraction too seriously.  Also at Sochi, there were online threats to a British skater who mistakenly took out a Korean medal favourite in the speed skating.  I couldn't imagine the same situation occurring with the fans of most other countries.

On the impartiality side of things, it has to be noted that one of the worst examples of cheating in any games by a host nation was in Seoul in 1988 (explained in last week's post).  In 2002 also, there were question marks raised about Korea's route to a surprise semi-final.  So the last two major international sporting events in Korea = two major sporting controversies and accusations of unfair officiating, one blatant and one slightly more arguable.  It doesn't mean anything like that will definitely happen in Pyeongchang in 2018, but I think some suspicion is justified when you combine past history, the still high level of nationalism in Korea, and the overreaction generally to international sporting failures and the over-importance of sporting success.

My Conclusion: Korea as a nation do appear a little preoccupied with proving themselves in the sporting arena and this means they will undoubtedly come under the spotlight when they host sporting events.  Only a clean Pyeongchang in 2018 will allay suspicions and Korea have a chance to prove the doubters wrong in 4 years time.


Koreans in the Way

SCE: Koreans have no spatial awareness and no manners and that is why they bump into others and get in our way.

Personal space manners, I believe, are a manifestation of cultures based around the individual, like those in Western countries.  As a visitor to Korea, one must accept that many Koreans will not place such a high regard on personal space because of this. Manners are also different from place to place; there are probably many examples of Korean people thinking Westerners are very bad mannered too.

That said, there are times when giving personal space is practically important and when it is not done can cause major problems and unfairness.  I see driving in Korea as an example of this and queuing also.  An acceptance of the culture does not mean that we aren't sometimes majorly inconvenienced and even put in danger by such a lack of spatial etiquette.

To give a couple of anecdotes; I have been playing squash for about 20 years or so and have played thousands of games without a major incident.  In 4 years of living in Korea, and playing only a handful of matches in that time, I managed to get one of my teeth knocked-out by a Korean player's wild dangerous swing (a high standard player who should have known better).  I also had a friend from orientation who was knocked down on a bus by a pushy Ahjuma and briefly lost consciousness because he fell so hard he hit his head (he's quite a big guy too, it must have taken some shove).  This sort of thing appears to be a common foreigner gripe in Korea.

Accidents can happen anywhere, but is it just a coincidence these happened in Korea?

My Conclusion: The accusation of a lack of spatial awareness maybe over-simplified and insulting, but there probably does need to be some general improvement in matters regarding personal space manners and awareness in some of the Korean population for reasons of safety, practicality, and fairness.


These are examples of generalised conclusions and opinions about groups of people, i.e. Korean people.  I personally don't think there is anything wrong with this and I would be perfectly open to accepting any of the many negative aspects of British culture also and their explanatory power in how many British people act. But one must be careful not to discriminate and draw conclusions about every person you meet.  It is unfair, immoral, and stupid for example, to judge the next Korean person you meet who has had plastic surgery as wanting to look like a White Westerner.

People are complex and they are individuals and must be treated as such, everyone should have equal value and equal rights.  However, culture can and does affect individual's behaviour and real patterns can be observed and conclusions drawn in certain situations.  It is popular to deny that this is the case and sometimes to insinuate racism against people who think it (but only when conclusions are drawn about non-Western cultures in my experience), but just because it's popular doesn't make it true.

The Asiana Crash - Korean Respect Culture Under the Spotlight and Justifiably so

Even before the Asiana crash, I had been warning of the perils of Korean respect culture.  Then immediately after it, the suspicions about the cause of the crash started to resemble Malcolm Gladwell's cockpit culture theory, which was critical of Korean culture before with other plane crashes.  Ask a Korean then wrote about it on his site, pointing out that Gladwell wasn't as thorough as he should have been.  He was right about that, but he never proved Gladwell wrong and he went a step too far in insisting that talk of Korean culture being a factor in plane crashes was an example of a kind of prejudice called "Culturalism", which he compared regularly (and wrongly) to racism.


TheKorean's post struck a chord with many people on the left because there is nothing more popular than someone who strikes down an argument against a non-Western culture.  All cultures are equal, don't you know, in all given situations, they just do things differently and there is no such thing as right or wrong (except when it comes to the West, and the US in particular, being wrong) and those poor non-Western cultures always need (our) protection.

I wrote a response to TheKorean, I did so because I was disturbed by three things: 1 - One should not discount all possibilities when investigating a crash, truth is what counts, not cultural sensibilities when it comes to life and death; 2 - I was worried that comparing such thoughts about a culture to racism may dissuade people from honest truth searching for fear of being labeled "Racist"; and 3 - I knew the possibility of Korean hierarchical respect culture playing a role in the crash was a very plausible one.

In his most recent post, I feel TheKorean is doing some serious stretching of his previous arguments in his first (without acknowledging that is what he is doing) and he seems now to think that the first of my concerns above was something he was never arguing against in the first place.  What did he say about entertaining a question like whether Korean culture had anything to do with the crash?

TheKorean - "If entertaining that question seriously wastes time and distracts from asking the more realistic and pertinent questions, the question is not worth thinking about."

So he says all possibilities should be considered, including culture, but ..... it is silly and wastes time to do so. As I said in argument with him at the time, does asking the question really waste time?  Does it really stop a full investigation of all possible avenues?  Does TheKorean think that, when it comes to air crashes, investigators are not going to be as thorough as humanly possible?  It is ridiculous to think that they would turn around and say, " Hey, it was because of Korean culture, right?  Okay, let's just not bother doing any more work and go home."  Anyway, the fact that Korean culture was trotted-out as an explanation clearly annoyed him, if not why did he write what he did?

So why was I still so suspicious that Korean respect culture might have contributed to the crash (even before reading recent findings confirming that it surely did)?

The answer stares everyone in the face everyday, if you are living in Korea.  I suspect even many Koreans themselves know it as well, but like most of the foreign visitors to Korea also, they don't want to see it. Every time a woman automatically makes the coffee, every time an older worker gets away with being lazy simply for being older, every time younger people are forced to attend company dinners and get drunk at them, every time younger workers are given more work than their elders, and even every time when anyone has to "talk up" to anyone else.

Respect culture is unequal and discriminatory by nature, to be frank it is flawed by nature as it is sexist and ageist.  When it comes to children and grandparents it's nice, but when we all grow up it stops being useful. It is not necessary because respect of our elders comes naturally or not at all.  And as we all know in Korea, one person only needs to be a year older than the other to cause a significant difference in how they are spoken to and treated (a kind of fundamentalist ageism, don't you think).

In Korea, many people don't respect their elders - it depends on whether they earn respect or not, just like everywhere else - but they almost always fear their elders, or at least fear to not show their respect to elders. The difference is important because if you respect someone, being honest in disagreement shouldn't be a problem, but if you fear someone, being honest in communicating with them becomes a serious issue.

Some of the situations I mention above seem trivial, but they are not, they are everyday examples that habitualise a way of living and a way of being that is hard to be snapped out of.  The fact is that, in Korea, if you are older or in a higher position at work - and especially a man - you are more likely not to be told of your mistakes, if you are younger you will probably hear about them non-stop (over and above what naturally occurs in other cultures also).  I have no statistics to back up this statement, but it this seems so undeniable that it is a close to an unadulterated fact as you will ever get. Everyone knows this is true and I have never met a Korean who has denied it.

So when TheKorean makes an argument that says why would a pilot risk the lives of everyone on the plane just to be polite to his elders or those of superior rank, he misses the point entirely:

TheKorean - "No sane person would be willing to die for the sake of keeping up with manners"

It is more than likely there is no conscious choice going on inside the head of the pilot, he is simply acting in way he has been conditioned to behave over his entire life.  He would not be playing eeny, meeny, miny, moe with couple of hundred passengers, himself and his co-pilots on the one hand and his concerns with politeness on the other, that would be absurd.  The whole point of the cultural explanation is that it works around logic; it is behaviour that has become ingrained and hard to break out of, even in possibly critical situations.

People from countries without respect culture are also prone to not speaking out against their superiors and this is the argument for, "cockpit culture", generally and that this is just a fact of life across all cultures. Sure, it can happen in anywhere, but what kind of cultures are more likely to have a problem with questioning their superiors?  Honesty and common sense points you towards the Far Eastern respect cultures. Korea's hierarchical respect culture is still so rigid that it will be prime suspect when it comes to possibly life and death breakdowns of communication and should always be investigated.  Forget offending another culture, this is about moral responsibility to discover the truth, which is far more important.

Bobby McGill over at BusanHaps gave a good summary of some of the recent information from the interviews by crash investigators of the pilots.  Now, I'm not going to be all smug and say, "I told you so", just yet but things aren't looking good for those who think, not only that Korean culture had nothing to do with it, but that it was wrong to even think of it as one of the leading contributory factors.

Before the Asiana crash my wife had signaled a number of warning signs to me when she talked about her job as a nurse in Korea.  This is when I became convinced that cultural etiquette in the form of too much "respect" (I would call this fear) could be life threatening.  She recanted a story which I shared in the post I mentioned earlier, "The Perils of Respect Culture", of nurses fearful of speaking out to their superiors as they witnessed a patient's blood pressure dropping precipitously, failed to act with enough urgency to then tell the doctors for fear of being scolded, and finally - after the lucky escape of the patient - younger nurses were not listened to regarding the possible cause of the patient's near death, despite one of them having witnessed a similar case in another hospital, while the others were generally flummoxed.  Other stories of patient care compromised by a failure of honest communication were also forthcoming on a regular basis.

So in a situation with any chain of command, any natural hierarchy of rank or age, I think we are right to be a little suspicious of Korean culture.  In my time here, there have been too many times people have not proved consistently able to handle these kind of circumstances in a satisfactory manner.  There are often too many crossed-wires and too many unfair, and illogical decisions going on from those of high rank and in my experience they are rarely, if ever, questioned by younger or lower ranking individuals.  Until Korean culture can sort itself out in this regard, the culture brings the suspicion upon itself.

This is not an attack on Korean culture as a whole, just one specific aspect of it.  Much like when there is a group of football fans causing trouble or violence in a city holding an international football tournament, many people from other countries might think of English supporters first, sometimes countries or cultures can deserve some of the judgments made about them.  This isn't to say you should look at a random English football supporter and discriminate against them or automatically think they are trouble, but I don't think I'd blame a bar owner being a bit worried about of a group of rowdy English supporters coming through their doors after England lose an important match, for example. 

In a more recent example, the PISA results for student performance in different countries has given many Western countries great cause for self-reflection about their own culture of education and that they might be doing something wrong and some of the Far Eastern countries are doing something right.

To sum things up, I think I will just use the words of another because they are so damn good.  A comment was left on TheKorean's recent post (posted by "Michael") that hit the nail so squarely on the head as to close the matter entirely, especially the last paragraph:

TheKorean - "CNN will continue running stories about Korean culture whenever a Korean plane crashes, while never raising questions about American culture when an American plane crashes. That is the discrepancy that I want you to think about."

Michael - "CNN (and most other news sources) usually discuss American gun culture whenever a mass shooting happens. Yet I don't recall any discussion of Korean culture playing a role in the Virginia Tech shooting. Is this unfair to American culture? No, because we have no reason to believe that any aspect of Korean culture was relevant to the Virginia Tech shooting. 

With American plane crashes, we've never had reason to believe that culture played a role. With some Korean plane crashes, we DO have reason to believe that culture was involved. That is why it gets discussed. 

If you suspect that an aspect of American culture played a role in an American plane crash, please discuss it on your blog. I would probably find it interesting. And I certainly wouldn't get offended or upset if someone were to investigate whether my culture played a role in an airline accident."

Note: Also read Michael's other comments (here and here) don't mean to be overly complementary (which is not usually my style), but he is now my new hero and makes perfect sense.

I hope I have explained well enough why we do have reason to believe Korean culture could very well have played a role in some of these plane crashes and are justified in suspecting so.  One can't help but also think that if there was no reason to suspect Korean culture as a cause, why did the theory ever come up in the first place?  It all seems a clear case of cultural relativism to me.  We have a right to point out the cultural theory and Koreans need to listen carefully and decide whether we have a point and whether they need to change this aspect of their culture or at least work extra hard on making it disappear in the cockpit.

The Land of Distraction - Smart Phone Zombies

According to CNN's "10 things South Korea does better than anywhere else", over 78% of people in Korea have a smart phone and this rises to an incredible 97.7% in 18 to 24 year olds.  As a result of this I have even noticed a change in the language used in my English classes, the word "cell" as a part of "cell phone" never makes an appearance anymore, it is now an almost extinct term having been completely replaced by "smart phone."

As time goes by, South Korean people seem to be becoming more and more reliant on these things, not only is it a fascinating curiosity to see literally hundreds, if not thousands, of people a day with their heads buried in them, but it is also starting to become an annoyance for me.

I don't drive in Korea, so to get from a to b in my daily routine, I use a bicycle.  It is not the safest form of travel on the roads due to Korea's slightly dodgy reputation for driving, so it is quite fortunate that the city where I live has many cycle paths on the pavement along the routes I need to go.  However, this has its own disadvantages, the main one being people on smart phones.  No one really takes notice of the cycle paths anyway, but at least some people can hear or see me coming and move out of the way or at least stick to going in one direction.  I say some, because a great many do not do this.  As time goes by, my regular commutes are turning more and more frustrating as I approach people walking in zig-zags along the pavement with their heads down focusing on their smart phones and their ear-phones in.  With almost complete sensory deprivation to the outside world, I struggle to predict where they will go next.  Some of these smart phone zombies often get so uncoordinated with it all they regularly stumble into a 90 degree manoeuvre just as I approach them, sending me in all directions.

I believe the problem has steadily got worse, people even cross the road without looking and with ear-phones in, and with Korea's horrible - almost third world - statistics for traffic accident deaths, you would think this kind of behaviour would be significantly discouraged, but it appears that no one cares.

Perhaps I simply have heightened sensitivity towards excessive smart phone use, but I am now noticing it in places I never did before.  As well as cycling, I also run 3 times a week.  I try and head out to the mountain or park trails for this.  Beforehand, I do have to wade my way through the smart phone zombies on the streets first, like I do on the bike.  However, once I actually manage to find the relative peace of a mountainous trail, I still can't get away from the smart phone.  Sometimes I still have to dodge the people walking through the beauty of the sights and sounds of the forest because they have their eyes down in their smart phones and either headphones in, or simply music blaring out loud spoiling the peace and quiet.

Then I go to the gym for a workout and what do I see.... a man sitting on a piece of equipment I want to use, playing games on his smart phone.  He does one set of bicep curls, flexes and admires them in the mirror and then sits down to exercise his thumbs once more for another few minutes.  I am sure this wasn't happening before, even as recently as last year.

It seems I can't escape these blasted devices, where ever I go.  On a trip to the hairdressers the other day, I had to wait for a boy to have his haircut first; he was about 7 or 8 years old I guess, and in front of him, crouched down, was his mother showing him a cartoon on her smartphone.  As the hairdresser moved his head and herself to cut different angles, so the mother adjusted her position.  When she became distracted and was late to move, the boy whined in disapproval and she quickly corrected herself.  It looked absolutely ludicrous, and goodness knows what this was teaching the boy in question.

Of course, we all know the prime example of smart phone zombies and that's on the subway system.  It amused my mum and dad when they visited Korea earlier this year.  They could look down a carriage and probably 80-90% would be transfixed on their smartphone screens.  It is hard to not think there is something drastically wrong with it all when you witness such a spectacle. 

A friend of mine, with slightly conservative views on life, can't stand it.  He thinks it shows an inability to be entertained by one's own thoughts, shutting oneself off to the outside world, a lack of self-reflection, and a loss of patience.  I think I agree with him in most cases, however, when it came to situations of waiting, like on trains or waiting for buses at a bus station, he appeared less concerned with people reading books and I am not sure there is much difference in this kind of situation.

When I visited Japan a year or so ago, I was struck by how many people were reading books or comic books on the subway system, in stark contrast to those being fixated on their smart phones in Korea.  Maybe now, a couple of years on, things have changed in Japan too, but anyhow, whether it is a smart phone or a book, I actually don't see much of a problem in killing time immersed in either, in a situation of passive waiting as long as it isn't all the time. 

There are some circumstances, though, where I think this smart phone trend is rather harmful; sometimes it is not good to be distracted too much.  When it comes to walking, especially in the mountains or in the countryside, there seems something particularly sad about drowning-out nature with a smart phone.  There are also some situations where we should not want to be disturbed and we need to focus and our lack of focus is troublesome to others, like in the gym or on the street.  When it comes to chances of injury or even death, at least South Koreans don't have to worry about the "Knockout Game", but there are plenty of other dangers out there to which many are oblivious to because of an addiction to smart phones.

"All truly great thoughts are conceived by walking" - Friedrich Nietzsche

Perhaps the greatest of all down-sides to this obsessive smart phone use is the time it is sapping from self-reflection.  One of my issues with South Korean culture has always been the feeling that many people are just on the treadmill of life and it simply keeps on rolling.  This happens everywhere, but I do think Korean culture runs a greater risk than most because of their adherance to strict social rules, and people's similar life goals, causing a rather set and unquestioned way of life.  Time with one's own thoughts, is something we all need to weigh-up where our lives are going.  This can sometimes be depressing, especially if we are not going in the right direction or going nowhere and struggling for meaning, but it is vitally important.  When I am feeling a little sad or depressed it serves as a sign that something needs changing and it requires time to figure-out just what needs fixing and altering sometimes.  A walk in the countryside or to the shops, the bike to work, silent contemplation at home, or even waiting for a bus can provide the time necessary to set things straight.

The modern world is full of distractions, but it appears as if Korea has become the masters at providing it.  Their high-tech, hard-working culture has brought the people prosperity, but it has also brought them misery in the form of the highest suicide rates and unhappiness in the young.  In the land of distraction, many people do not think about and confront problems, they appear to distract themselves from them (perhaps this is also a factor in the love of computer games).  Without time for a bit of self-reflection, things aren't going to get happier any time soon.

"An unexamined life is not worth living" - Socrates

The Necessity of Lying in Korea

Picture by  Stepher Uhlmann http://su2.info/gallery/stills/lie (http://artlibre.org/licence/lal/en)

One of my favourite writers and speakers currently is the neuro-scientist and philosopher Sam Harris.  In his most recent book, "Lying", he sets-out his case that the world, and indeed our individual lives, would be much better if we dispensed with the fibs and were just honest in almost every situation.  He gives some examples of when lying might be necessary, but they mainly involve situations that could result in violence and therefore lying then becomes a means of self-defense (I will let you imagine some scenarios).

I personally agree with him, we would undoubtedly be better-off if we could all be more honest with each other.  However, I have noticed how difficult it is to meet his suggested challenge of consciously making a point not to lie (even the tiny ones) for a whole week - to see how often we might do it - while living in Korea.

In a society with Confucian values, elders are to be respected at all costs and I do think this puts extra pressure on the ability to be honest; sometimes honesty actually feels disrespectful and when the clashing values of two different cultures go at each other head-on this can cause some significant difficulties which may necessitate lying.  Even without cultural differences Koreans appear to lie to each other surprisingly regularly, especially when it comes to their family, which has shocked me a little.  Since day one, I have always disliked respect culture because of this necessity to lie.  It is not a measure of true respect that one needs to lie to people and especially family, I think it shows the opposite and the behaviour is more motivated by social pressure and fear.  In this confusion between fear and respect, South Korean culture makes the same mistake as the regime in North Korea.

The times I am regularly tempted to dish-out a few porky pies occur in two situations in Korea, at work and with my wife's family and I am going to give a few examples of dilemmas that have cropped-up from time to time.

When it comes to my in-laws, my wife tends to do the lying for me, partly because I am exquisitely uncomfortable with it and also because my Korean is not quite up to it.  One, rather massive fib we told my in-laws occurred a couple of years ago during my winter vacation from work.  There was only a small window my school allowed me to get away for a few weeks and I was thinking about a trip to Indonesia.  The only time I could get away, however, clashed with the Korean New Year holiday (Seollal).  My wife told me that her parents would never allow me go away at this time and that I should be with the family; my response was to say, "Well, I am not asking them, I will go if I want to, period."  Knowing that this would be a problem (my poor wife is often stuck in the middle in cultural problems such as this), my wife told her parents that I was going home to visit my family in England.  With the tensions that are often experienced and expected between the parents of married couples in Korea and the importance of family, they would not disapprove of this. 

To me, this seemed a bit immoral, I would have rather stood-up to them, apologised, and ultimately tried to explain how important travel and new experiences were to me and my freedom to make my own choices.  On good authority, however, I have been told many times that such a show of honesty would have been a big mistake if I valued my marriage.

These sorts of situations occur quite a lot; I have often got last minute requests to join my parents in-law for drinks with their friends - on a couple of occasions just as I was preparing to go to bed.  I simply refuse, which gives my wife headaches, but again she lies and says I am sick or I have an English class with someone or some other work to do.  I have to say, I have become more comfortable with doing this as time goes by.

Of course one of the tricky things with all this lying is the potential to slip-up at a later date because you have to remember all the lies you've told (as Sam Harris mentions in his book).  Even this aspect of lying is something I find completely different in Korea to living in England.  I find in England, people really are more interested in the truth, and especially parents, but in Korea not so much.  I believe the showing of respect holds greater importance.  This all means I rarely, if ever, get tested on the lies my wife and I have told.  In the Indonesian example, I visited there in January and February and came back with a markedly different skin tone, with tan lines where I had worn sunglasses.  Now, it could be that my in-laws were just ignorant of English weather in January and February, but they never remarked on this rather telling sign.

"He who is not sure of his memory should not undertake the trade of lying" - Montaigne

In fact, they never test me or my wife, ever.  I suspect they know, at least sometimes, when my wife lies to them to avoid conflict in such cases, but I am convinced that they don't really care.  The above quote is simply not relevant to me.  Goldfish can get away with lying in most situations in South Korea.

When it comes to my job, I have also had circumstances where being honest has become incredibly difficult.  Duty and being part of the group are very important factors in Korean culture and this holds particular relevance at work.  One of my personal bug-bears with Korean culture is the forced participation and enjoyment of workplace functions and activities.  I think it is particularly troublesome for women, but I have found it rubs me up the wrong way also.  Obligatory attendance at staff dinners and outings (and the forced drinking that results) are things that I am sure many Koreans hate about their culture, especially as they have to pay for them.  On paper they are not mandatory, but everyone knows the consequences for not joining in, which include ostracism at work, a generally harder time at work, and even bullying and the loss of a job or promotion opportunities.  The whole thing is one huge mess of dishonesty; younger, lower-ranked workers never want to participate, yet say they do and all the older, higher-ranked workers know the younger ones don't want to join them, but make them do it anyway.  They are lies the culture necessitates and that everyone accepts.

A special case of this occurred with me at around the time leading-up to my school's yearly festival, often quite a big deal in Korea.  It was the time of Gangnam Style's height of popularity and so it was decided that some of the younger teachers would do a Gangnam Style dance routine as a performance.  Most of the younger Korean teachers had been practicing for about 3 weeks before I was finally asked if I wanted to join in.  After replying that it wasn't really my cup of tea in as polite a manner as I could, several times, I was cajoled into going to a practice session.  The reality of it was they were demanding that I'd be in the centre of the performance and practice "diligently" (as they like to say) outside of my school hours to get up to speed with the rest of them.  The routine was also devilishly complicated for a slightly reserved Englishman with two left feet.  On top of it all, I had really grown a special hatred for that song because of the Korean obsession with it at the time and the amount it had been played.

Needless to say then, I refused to join in with the rest of them and no matter how many times I said this, "no" was simply not an answer they were willing to accept.  I was beginning to think I should have lied, like I had a bad knee or something, I think I would have only needed to say this once and then they would've eased-off and I would have heard nothing more about it.  Instead, though, I was hounded and told in the end that it was my obligation to do it.  With my heckles raised at this point, I tried very hard not to get angry and calmly disagreed.  I eventually had to sneak out of the school when they were not looking to get out of one more practice session, which they were going to physically drag me into doing.  I actually had to craftily tip-toe my way out of the door, can you believe it, no honesty was going to get me out of this mess.

The result of this was the cold shoulder treatment for a month or so and the implicit suggestion that they might not renew my contract for the next year.  If I had lied, my life would have been a hell of a lot easier and they would have liked me more.

On a smaller and more regular scale, one of the teachers I truly like at my school often takes me out for lunch every week.  While I appreciate this, I become a little uncomfortable because he always pays and I am saving for emigrating to Australia, so I cannot return the favour.  He is still happy to pay, but I really feel as though I am in his debt.  I also really enjoy the lunches at my school and this doesn't eat-up my entire lunchtime, like it does when I go out for lunch with him.  I wish we could just have lunch together in the school canteen.  In Korean culture, though, I just don't think being honest with him is feasible without causing a fair bit of offence.  At the time of writing, I just refused the offer of a biscuit from the admin lady in my office and her reaction was as if I had just ran over her dog or something, she looked genuinely upset.  I should have lied about wanting the biscuit and just hid it under some papers on my desk if I didn't want to eat it.

I'm not saying I never lie or that I am perfect, but I do try and live my life as honestly as I possibly can and I can remember past lies that came back to bite me when I was found out.  Having to remember all one's untruths is also a hassle I could really do without.  Along with the practical reasons for not lying, I feel a pang of guilt surging through me that makes me extremely uncomfortable when I do lie, so I still don't do it very much, even in Korea.  I do often let others do the lying for me though in Korea, and this is especially relevant with my wife and her parents.

In Western society too, being honest can hurt you, and I think Sam Harris brought-up the examples of people who exaggerate their CVs (resumes) having an advantage in employment over those who are honest and write a true CV.  However, I strongly feel that honesty is far more valued in Western countries, and if you are discovered to be lying this is deplored far more than in Korea at least, and possibly Far Eastern culture generally.  I also think people in Western countries are more interested in exposing liars and this holds especially true for parents and their children.

With this in mind then, while I agree whole-heartedly with Sam Harris about an honest world being a better one and a honest life being better for the individual, I must say that I think it depends.

I think Korean society would certainly be a better one if people lied less, just like Western society would be, but for the individual I am left scratching my head a little as to the best answer.  When it comes to our everyday lives, I think it is much easier to be honest in Western culture and that the fruits of the labour of being honest can be enjoyed fairly swiftly.  In a respect-based culture like Korea, on the other hand, I am more sceptical; honesty in this culture can cause real problems, not just in getting ahead in matters to do with work, but also in relationships generally.  For the benefits of not lying to show themselves to the individual, the whole culture would have to change, but I don't think this is the case in the West.