By Oh Young-jin
Assistant Managing Editor
I don't eat McDonald's not because I am anti-American. I went cold turkey on Big Macs and value menus a few months ago after reading Eric Schlosser's 2001 book, ``Fastfood Nation: The Dark Side of the All-American Meal.''
My addiction to McDonald's began as love at first bite in 1993 when I went to New York and ravenously finished up three Big Macs in one sitting, droplets of perspiration forming on the tip of my nose due to the strain on my digestive system.
For the sake of my later argument, I confess that I also don't eat Saewookkang, Korea's shrimp-flavored snack that I had enjoyed for so long, especially with my first glass of beer before more greasy food is brought in as a chaser.
My decision to give up my Korean favorite snack was over the reported discovery of a desiccated head of a rodent in an oversized bag of Saewookkang that is usually sold to noraebang (Korean karaoke). Saewookkang is more readily available in small bags at neighborhood mom-and-pop stores. Nongshim, the maker of the snack, claimed that that mummified rodent head in question came from its supplier in China. The fact that it was prepared in China, of course, doesn't make me anti-Chinese.
The reason why I am discussing my personal experiences is that they are related to the recent ``beef riot'' in Korea.
Tens of thousands of Koreans took to the streets to protest the government's decision to fully open the domestic market to U.S. beef.
Typically, when there are big demonstrations in Korea, they are often viewed as anti-government and anti-American. The underlying logic was that Korea has had a series of dictatorships, dating back to the '60s and lasting up until the late '80s. Korean dictators often sucked up to the U.S. to take on whatever shade of legitimacy it could, with the U.S. influence stemming from a mixture of factors ranging from its troop presence, superpower status and affluence to Koreans' sense of insecurity triggered by the threat of North Korea, self-doubt and envy.
This time, however, there is more than meets the eye. Citing anti-government and anti-American slogans occasionally heard in front of City Hall, pundits sing the same old song, making people feel nostalgic.
Call a spade a spade, and it would be apparent that their protests are a consumer movement in a different form.
By this logic, the Lee administration is like a big corporation that is headed by a self-described CEO President. This corporation failed to deliver on what it promised, the result being a defective product in the form of boneheaded policy. Consumers demanded a recall and an apology. When Lee & Associates balked, the consumers staged a boycott in the form of candlelit protests, telling the CEO to provide a better product or face being booted out of the market.
To add a conclusion up front, this Korean mass consumer activism is prevailing in a duel with the biggest corporation ― that is the government. This victory qualifies Koreans to declare their arrival as a consumerist democracy in practice as well as in name.
But therein lies a challenge. The first is whether consumer activism on such a massive scale can be sustained. The candlelit protests are petering out with the number of participants diminishing and their core messages being politically tainted. A key characteristic for consumer democracy is individualism, leaving members to their own discretion about what choices they make. This makes the candlelit protests as a consumer movement transient and prone to inconsistency. More to the point, however, they are likely to set a precedent that forewarns the incumbent government or succeeding ones or any big multinationals of the risk they run when they cross Korean consumers.
There is one regret I have regarding the candlelit protests. That is an absence of cross-border consumer-to-consumer alliance. When my paper carried articles on Korean protests about U.S. beef, it faced a flood of comments on its Web site, many negative. Such sentiment was epitomized by a close British friend of mine who I think referred to his nationality as American during lunch a couple of days ago. When our conversation turned to the beef issue, his repartee was ``what about Korean beef?'' We both know it didn't pass tests at the Paris-based OIE, also known as the World Organisation for Animal Health, tests that U.S beef did pass.
I know that it would be unfair, if I surmised his intentions but made my own conclusion. Being assured he has a venue to tell his side of the story, I would say this at least for myself ― what is going on here regarding U.S. beef is not intended to hurt U.S. feelings or slight American pride.
It is more about the product ― U.S. beef. So in a way, I feel Americans are missing an opportunity because the uproar in Seoul over U.S. beef could be used to pressure the U.S. beef industry into cleaning up its act and provide its people with better products.
The U.S. was once a country of Upton Sinclair whose 1906 book, ``The Jungle,'' described abhorrent working conditions and lack of sanitation in the U.S. meatpacking industry.
According to one contemporary humorist, President Teddy Roosevelt was so upset that he took the sausages he was having for breakfast and threw them out of the window. This led to the enactment of the Meat Inspection Act and Pure Food and Drug Act.
Why doesn't a country with such a consumerist history grab hold of this opportunity? Is it because there is no such president as Teddy in the White House?
Aside
As a journalist with 20 years in the business, I sometimes feel tempted to act as if I were a combination of judge, jury and executioner. So I want to err on the side of caution, challenging you readers to be the judge about this latest case of mine.
The Korea Times carried in its June 19th edition a story entitled, ``FCC Chief Keeps Korean Reporters at Arm's Length,'' that article stated that U.S. Federal Communications Commission Chairman Kevin Martin turned away two Korean reporters who tried to join a press availability session during the OECD Ministerial Meeting on the Internet at the COEX Center in southern Seoul.
A U.S. Embassy employee arranged the small press conference for reporters from AP Dow Jones, Reuters and Bloomberg.
A Times reporter who heard of the special occasion went to the venue and asked to join but his request was turned down.
Here is where the issue becomes confusing.
FCC representatives sent the Times an email request for a retraction saying that Martin didn't turn anybody away.
``The chairman didn't have any knowledge of reporters being turned away,'' said Rob Kenny, who identified himself as the director of FCC media relations, dubbing the report as being ``skewed.''
He added with an apparent dose of emotion, ``The chairman would have never (sic) with intent, discourage reporters regardless of their affiliation.''
As a business editor, I am willing to accommodate a request for a retraction, if the claim is valid. So I checked with the U.S. Embassy, whose personnel were involved in the arrangement.
Because the person I talked to didn't want to be quoted, I, with his consent, generalized his remarks. He said that he did what he was told. What he was told to do was escort the reporters to the venue and turn away those who were not invited without asking whether the FCC chairman wanted to accommodate reporters who were not on the invitation list but showed up.
I am willing to take this matter to my managing editor and try my best to accommodate an FCC request for a retraction, if the FCC first tells me which party is more to blame; itself or the U.S. Embassy.