Columns

The new 'hoesik' wears running shoes

The hardest part of a company dinner used to come before the meal. A junior employee would glance at the clock, wait to hear where the team was going and then calculate the journey home. The invitation might sound casual but saying no was not ok. That was the reality of "hoesik" for many Korean workers — an obligatory meal together that could take ownership of an evening. Colleagues drank together in the name of building trust, while the person who went home early risked looking unfriendly or uncommitted. The meal had rules of its own: You paid attention to where you sat, when you raised your glass and whether your supervisor was ready to leave. Even conversation could feel like part of the job. For some people, those dinners led to friendships that lasted long after they changed workplaces. Others remember watching the hours pass while thinking about the next morning’s commute. Both were true. The problem was how little room there was to choose. Workers have gained more say over time. A team dinner no longer has quite the same claim on everyone’s evening and more people are willi

What Ukraine doesn't understand about 2 Koreas

When Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy told the United Nations General Assembly on Sept. 23 that Kyiv had transferred two North Korean prisoners of war (POWs) to South Korea, Seoul's reaction was swift and unusually sharp. President Lee Jae Myung accused Ukraine of breaching a nondisclosure agreement and the presidential office demanded an official apology. The foreign ministry summoned Ukraine's charge d'affaires. When Kyiv initially denied a confidentiality pact existed, Seoul called the denial a "falsehood" that "seriously undermines trust between the two governments." This was not a routine diplomatic complaint. It was a signal that something more fundamental had been misread. The logic behind Kyiv's move is not hard to trace. Ukraine handed Seoul two strategically important POWs after months of quiet diplomacy — soldiers from among the estimated over 10,000 North Koreans deployed to fight for Russia. It has repeatedly asked South Korea for lethal weapons, most recently Cheongung-II air defense system in August, and been turned down each time. Analysts widely read the public

Korean golfers are choosing differently

Korea’s golf boom is losing steam after several years of unprecedented growth. Visitor numbers have fallen from their pandemic-era peak, raising concerns that the industry’s golden era may be coming to an end. But that may not be the right way to read the situation. Korean golfers are not giving up the sport. They are simply becoming more selective about where, when and how they play — and increasingly looking overseas. During the COVID-19 pandemic, golf was one of the biggest beneficiaries of restrictions on international travel and indoor activities. With overseas trips largely off the table, golfers had few alternatives. Domestic courses became crowded, tee times were hard to secure and prices rose as demand surged. The sport also attracted a new generation of enthusiasts. Younger Koreans embraced golf not only as a sport but as a lifestyle. Golf apparel became a fashion statement, while courses became popular backdrops for social media posts. For many young golfers, a round was part of a broader experience combining food, travel and leisure. It was a powerful combination that fu