Those who live in Korean towns or cities, do so in a "dong." All of us. But it is remarkable how little the dong contributes to our identity.

This is not because we don't love where we live or treasure the happy memories of a place, but because so often the dong itself has little to do with the perception of our neighborhood.

Why is that? Why do people not boast about their dong? If you don't share my drift here, try going there and holding up a sign that says, "Honk if you love Mok 5-dong." You'll find yourself contributing to a reduction in noise pollution because drivers would consciously restrain themselves.

Our problem is that few dong have a distinct identity. Could that be changed? Could we follow the exception of, say, Seoul's four distinct foreigner dong, Itaewon, Hannam, Pyeongchang and Seongbuk?

Could obscure dong differentiate like Apgujeong-dong and Insa-dong, some rich people's dong, and some business dong like Yeouido (despite its ghastly spelling)? Some otherwise unremarkable dong could become known if artists were to write and sing about them. A few years ago a movie about a barber shop, "Hyoja-dong Ibalso" put that dong on the map.

The first obvious response to this idea is that most dong are too small and nondescript. The dong, for the benefit of readers without one, is the smallest urban local government unit that has an office. Korean citizens have to register there when they move houses. Non-Koreans are supposed to do it at the larger "gu" (pronounced goo), or district offices, which you get in the bigger cities (but often forget). And the dong office is where you get your ticket to stick on items you are throwing away that are too large to fit in the garbage bag.

They do other things to, but not dong promotion. That's left to the gu in the big cities, and to city governments elsewhere. Some promote with characteristic peninsular gusto.

On the Web site of Jung-gu, the central administrative district of Seoul, there used to be a banner slogan saying, "21st century vision of Jung-gu, as the central city of the world." (Jung means central). A few years ago, when my office was there, I received a flyer through the mail announcing the gu as the hub of Asia. Seoul's other central gu, Jongno (meaning Bell Street) has its own logo, emblem, color, bird, tree, flower and facial expression (the smile).

Being small, dong abound, another difficulty for differentiating. In Seoul, for example, we have 522 within the city's 25 gu. In my time, I've lived in 15 houses or apartments and worked from 11 offices. That's a lot of dong. The names of some, like the one behind the Sejong Cultural Center and the two on the Han River by the Chonho Bridge, have slipped my mind.

Of course, a big reason for poor dong memory retention (PDMR) syndrome is that I'm a bloody foreigner and the dong names have no meaning for me.

While Chelsea and Westminister in London, for example, resonate with meaning and association, Jwa-dong and Junggok 4-dong are just mouthfuls.

But guess what? It's the same for Koreans. Dong names are Chinese. Yeoksam-dong, for example, was so named because it was the place where travelers changed horses. Apgujeong was the name of a royal pavilion.

Heukseok (black stone) was named after a distinctive rock feature. My own Gye-dong is named after the cassia, or Chinese cinnamon, tree. Not many Koreans know this because we used to give our places foreign names, using Chinese, rather as Europeans once used Latin.

Knowing the actual origins is not hugely important, because the real identity of a place is its modern connotation. And for some foreigners, the sound of their place works. Yo, good burghers of Dongbinggo-dong, don't people call you from back home and say, "Dong-bing-go-dong, dude? That's so Asia." And wouldn't it be great to reply, "Yep, and I'm moving to Eungbong-dong, Seongdong-gu"?

So, the point here is one of association. What if our association with nation were to go the way of our association with our dong, and cease to mean anything? Wouldn't that change the world? My prediction is that, over the long haul, this indeed will happen. I would, at the same time, predict that future generations develop a stronger connection to the smaller unit. Maybe the dong, or, if it's too small, at least the gu or the city. That strengthening of the local as we go global and dump our countries, I believe, would make for a cool planet.

One final point, you will note that all the names mentioned here (except Busan's Jwa-dong) are in Seoul. My apologies to those readers from other cities. I know you're all foreigners to we Seoulites, but that's no reason not to be polite.

Michael Breen is chairman of Insight Communications Consultants and exclusive partner of FD International. He can be reached at mike.breen@insightcomms.com.