'Gatsaeng' explained
Courtesy of Evie S
Cho Ye-won, David A Tizzard
We all know that Korean people work hard. It’s something like a national motto. We study hard, practice hard, sing hard. The delivery drivers work hard. The pop stars work hard. The students work hard. Everything in the country appears to be the result of intense personal and collective effort. And what results it can sometimes bring! Our country today, with its political, economic, and cultural revolutions, stands proudly as a result. From nothing; from the devastation of war and colonization, we have built a country that millions now flock to.
But people work hard everywhere. Working hard is not necessarily a "Korean thing." So what exactly is happening here? And how do Koreans talk about the idea of hard work?
Early efforts
We can go all the way back to the 1970s and days of Park Chung-hee when posters and slogans were put up around the country telling us to work hard to build a nation. More recently, however, things are different. We are now a democracy, we embrace capitalism, love individualism, and have to navigate the hyper-lonely world of neoliberalism.
It is in this environment that "yeoljeongpei" (passion pay) first emerged. Essentially, money was replaced by passion. This was basically a form of economic gaslighting, telling young people that if they worked hard and suffered through hardships despite receiving very little, they would eventually be rewarded. It was a Cinderella-like story in which everyone would be promoted and receive great benefits if only they were to just endure the current situation. The reality was, however, that people would even be promoted without any actual increase in their salary: meaning they had more work, more stress, and less compensation for it all. And, of course, not everyone got promoted.
Yeoljeongpei was the word of the last generation. It is probably also well-known in glocalized versions to people of a similar age in Japan and other countries. Today in Korea, we now have something different. We have a new word to describe the hard work we have to endure without any notable increase in monetary compensation: "gatsaeng." This means, literally, the “God Life.”
The God Life
The difference with gatsaeng is that it is no longer enough to simply work hard. The demands have become larger, more absolute. Thus gatsaeng is a total lifestyle: you get up early, exercise, and work hard, but you also have to focus on your self-development, keep in touch with your friends, go to parties, and enjoy life. And that’s not all! While working hard, you should still look good. Beauty matters. As does your taste in clothes, music, and art. Mind, body, and spirit all need to be aligned to be living the proper gatsaeng life. We are not allowed to simply be who we are; instead, we are in a constant race to become something. Something bigger than human. Something, god-like.
But you are not living the gatsaeng life if you do all these tasks blindly or unwillingly. The vibe is not about enduring hardships to achieve a certain goal. It’s not a matter of delayed gratitude or long-term satisfaction. Those more puritan ideas that remind us of Weberian sociology and Protestant work-ethics are gone. This is more individualistic. More free. It’s about choosing through one’s own free will to live this way. Because, after all, one truly enjoys this lifestyle.
Dreams and reality
And in Korea, we see it everywhere. One of the main motivations behind writing this piece was that every Korean will know about this word. Listen carefully in a coffee-shop and you’ll hear it fly above people’s heads, it’s whispered in corners, and written down on shiny new laptops. Television shows and radio programs talk about it. And it features heavily online, too. Insta hashtags and story updates are everywhere. And gatsaeng V-log contents are super popular, with people taking the time to show off their lives and describe what they are doing to live a total god-life. Everywhere we look, we see it. It’s more than a vibe. It’s a modern reality.
To me, it initially felt like a dream life. The powerful career woman-boss lifestyle. The kind of thing you see in movies and dramas where the hyper-beautiful lady wakes early to hit the gym, drinks smoothies, and then enters a high-powered job, before taking a break for yoga, and then drinking cocktails at a post-modern art exhibition in the evening. But that’s the image. That’s just what people imagine.
In reality, here I am, barely managing to do my assignments and survive with an ever-increasing workload and psychological demand on my time. I criticize myself when I don’t wake early and do yoga; berate myself for eating instant noodles instead of kale smoothies. I feel like I’m just so far from what the gatsaeng lifestyle is meant to be, and this only gets worse when I go through instagram.
The origins of god
Social expectations and the public gaze are super strong in Korea. We constantly feel others’ eyes on us. More so, I think, than in other liberalized and individualistic societies. This demand to be seen to be living well is a key factor behind the rise of the gatsaeng trend.
Of course, we have to accept that this, along with passion pay and the "ppali-ppali" culture, have contributed immensely to the rapid political, technological, economic and cultural development of Korea. Our country has achieved astounding things in a very short period of time. The result is that these fantastic transformations have become baked-in as part of the norm. We are expected to drastically reform society in every generation. However, the conditions have changed so completely since then. We did not grow up in the poverty and destruction of war. We do not live under a military dictator determining our hairstyles, morals, and lifestyle choices. We have Netflix and freedom. But a seeming obligation to be god-like rather than all too human.
Being loved
In Korea, those who follow the mainstream path are considered to have high sociability, greater social value, and are thus more worthy of love. On the other hand, those who fail to meet these standards are seen as weirdos, lacking sociability. They are outsiders, and in extreme cases, treated as if they were incels. Consequently, due to this tight social structure, Korean society easily throws shade at socially disadvantaged people for their perceived weaknesses. Children are criticized for being noisy, for lacking manners, while the elderly are attacked for being a burden on the economy and politics. This is not just online, but people feel this aggression in public places such as cafes and restaurants. Who deserves to be here? Whose country is it? And this is before we even mention the disabled.
Children are children. Yet they often suffer from high social demands. Instead of showing tolerance and accepting them as a member of the country, Korean society perceives having "yeoyu" (a form of freedom) as wasteful. And the culture is so toxic, it’s hard to change. Because while Koreans recognize the problems inherent in this current social atmosphere, and criticize it, we are also aware that we too might be ostracized for failing to go with the norm. That we too might be the next victim if we reveal our imperfections that have strayed from the god life demanded of us.
Self-care
I think motivation is effective and long lasting when it’s self-driven, and that’s when a life based on self-care starts. But the gatsaeng V-logs seem to be shouting at us, “ Look at me! Be like me! I am performing social normalcy so well that I even enjoy it. And I am happy with my life as a normal person.”
We know this worked in the past to build the country from the ruins of war under military dictatorships. But this is the 21st century and surely we should change the social atmosphere? And yet, here we are, the whole country standing in front of an open door. We can all see the otherside, and most of us want to go there. But none of us wants to take the first move because of how risky it is.
Except me. My life will not be determined by others’ standards. If I don’t do what they do, that’s fine. If my lifestyle choices are seen as unproductive, I’m okay with that. I will determine my own life, make my own decisions, and, ultimately, be my own god. And that will, hopefully, make me human.
Cho Ye-won is a student at Seoul Women’s University majoring in public administration.
Dr. David A. Tizzard (datizzard@swu.ac.kr) has a Ph.D. in Korean Studies and lectures at Seoul Women's University and Hanyang University. He is a social/cultural commentator and musician who has lived in Korea for nearly two decades. He is also the host of the Korea Deconstructed podcast, which can be found online.