Columns

Staunch president, docile diplomats

For decades, Korea’s foreign policy establishment has prided itself on caution, restraint and alliance management. Its diplomats often described these traits as sophisticated — the habits of a mature middle power navigating a dangerous neighborhood. Yet the recent handling of the Israeli seizure of aid vessels carrying two Korean activists exposed the dark underbelly of that carefully cultivated image: a culture of bureaucratic self-preservation that too often mistakes timidity for prudence. The situation revealed not only a disagreement over diplomatic tactics, but the widening gap between a Korean public that increasingly demands a confident, sovereign foreign policy and the entrenched elite in those circles who are conditioned to avoid discomfort at almost any cost. In particular, the episode highlighted the contrast between political pressure for transparent and assertive action and the instinctive caution of Korea’s traditional diplomatic establishment. Figures such as National Security Adviser Wi Sung-lac and Second Vice Foreign Minister Kim Jina symbolize this mindset, whi

Korea’s risk-free schools

For many Koreans, school trips from elementary, middle and high school are lifelong memories. Those from Seoul mostly headed to Gyeongju, North Gyeongsang Province, to see cultural relics such as Bulguksa temple, and even rundown motels became part of the fun when shared with classmates. However, as President Lee Jae Myung recently remarked, it seems these experiences are becoming a thing of the past. “I hear that these days, students don’t go on picnics or school trips much anymore,” he said in a Cabinet meeting, lamenting that they are “taking away good opportunities from students just to avoid responsibility.” According to the Seoul Metropolitan Office of Education, only 31 percent of elementary, middle and high schools in Seoul have announced plans to conduct daytime field trips this year. Overnight field trips are decreasing even further, with only 17 percent of schools planning to do so. Behind the plunge are the excessive legal and emotional risks borne by teachers. In a survey by the Elementary School Teachers’ Union, 96 percent of teachers who responded expressed a ne

Empathy in an era of division

Empathy has emerged as a focus of public interest in Korea, reflecting a growing desire to understand one another in an increasingly polarized society. The steady stream of bestselling books on the subject underscores its significance in public discourse. However, popularity does not guarantee clarity. How well do we actually understand empathy, and what does it ask of us as members of a civil society? Empathy is far more than clasped hands, tearful eyes or the familiar platitude, “I feel your pain.” It is a capacity that integrates emotional attunement with cognitive perspective-taking. While emotional resonance enables us to feel what another is feeling, the cognitive dimension is to mentalize as we step beyond our own vantage point and see the world from another’s perspective. Rightly understood, empathy becomes a foundation of social life, grounded in the recognition of human dignity and a commitment to the well-being of others. Without such an orientation, civic bonds fray, and those vulnerable are pushed to the margins of society. Yet, a growing body of scholarship suggests