Korean camera porn

By David Tizzard

Bathrooms, changing rooms, swimming pool locker rooms, hotels, motels, holiday inns.

Say what?

Places of various utility, yet all designed ultimately to give the users some privacy from the public whilst going about whatever business it might be.

But with the country’s molka epidemic (spy cam porn), the very sanctuaries previously sought are now locations of great fear, trepidation, and crime.

The government recently announced that it is stepping up its efforts to cooperate with police and prevent such crimes taking place at popular summer haunts, including Haeundae Beach and Gyeongpodae Beach.

The destressing fact, however, is that while the warmer weather should signal a time of relaxation and joy, a break from the monotony and routine of working life, the government is having to spend time, money, and resources on combating the serious issue of criminals (nearly all men) illegally videoing and filming victims (nearly all women) while half the population live in fear of being recorded for nefarious purposes.

The situation is complex and multifaceted, yet seems to remain idiosyncratic to South Korea – there are few other countries that encounter such problems with the severity that they are seen here.

The Korean National Police Agency reported an average of 18 cases of spy cam porn per day in 2015. More than 16,000 people were arrested between 2012 and 2017 for being involved in such activities.

Distressingly, in a 2018 Macromill Embrain survey, a quarter of male respondents claimed to have personally watched a molka video. Considering the very low likelihood of people admitting to engaging in such criminal behavior, one can only assume the actual total is in fact much greater.

There seems to have been some degree of social normalization of this deviance.

With youth unemployment recently reported at 8.4%, the highest in 19 years, disenfranchised yet highly technologically literate youngsters are turning to this particular form of crime for the financial benefits it may bring. Quite simply it is seen as a high-reward, low risk industry to some.

In an anonymous interview with a South Korean television program last year, a man claimed that he was able to make up to $350,000 per year by uploading illegal videos.

Advances in technology make it possible to purchase these cameras for as little as 20 to 30 dollars. When concealed in nooks and crannies, these tiny cameras are almost impossible to detect without the most advanced technology – something with the domestic police forces are struggling to afford.

As well as being expensive, the detection process is also time-consuming and laborious. Each room of a motel would take about an hour to check thoroughly.

Consider how many rooms there are in one motel alone: Something worth remembering next time you see an establishment advertising molka-free rooms. And why should that be a thing in the first place?

Moreover, they can now also come purchased as lighters, baseball caps, or other household objects. Worryingly, there are no regulations on how to purchase such devices – the free market reigns supreme in this industry.

While the legal punishments carry with them a possible fine of up to 10 million won ($9,000) and a maximum 5-year sentence, in 2017 only 2% of the 5,400 people arrested faced any jail time. There is a continuing lenient attitude taken by the courts and a seeming willingness to allow such behavior go unpunished.

Namjas will be namjas, in the local parlance.

Exacerbation is caused by the continued sexual objectification of women in the country – particularly in the K-pop industry. Stemming from patriarchal Confucian practices which often hold the men as subjects and women the objects, females are often viewed as tools of pleasure.

This was never more apparent than when girl group AOA appeared in season 3 of the popular tv show Men on a Mission (A.K.A Knowing Bros). Their stated reason for performing was to excite the men and, after answering questions, each male host was presented with a girl to sit next to as a prize.

That of course can be seen rather innocently, but when placed in a broader cultural context it points to a far more disturbing social view.

James Turnbull has written how the computer screens at military barracks have also been filled with images of female K-pop idols, designed to “boost morale” while the young lads spend 2 years isolated from society. And with traditional Confucian segregation of sexes still deeply-rooted, there is a voyeuristic desire to enter that forbidden world – at any cost.

Revenge pornography, anti-feminist views, and a lack of legal pornography also contribute to the issue.

Feminist issues have rightly come to the fore, notably since the tragic Gangnam Murder incident. There is a pressing need to work for greater equality in the workplace, home, and society at large.

Tens of thousands of women have voiced this necessity with the “My Life is not your Porn” protests and rightly demanded that the situation be given more public awareness and change actually brought about.

Yet the online gender wars have become rather extreme and the mirroring effect has become a commonplace tool. Misogyny sometimes gives way to misandry and with slogans such as 6.9cm being shouted on websites and in hip-hop songs, there is a dangerous edge to how the discussion has unfolded thus far.

The problem is clearly serious – and there are still likely more contributing factors. But how does the country start addressing the problem?

Asking women to pay more attention to the environment around them is not the solution. South Korea should be a society of freedom not of fear.

Many have called for the stricter enforcement of laws and harsher punishments for those caught and convicted of such crimes. There is a lot of sense in this – particularly in relation to crimes of a sexual nature.

It simply has to be more consistent. It cannot keep allowing people to use excuses to escape sentencing because this will cause the public to lose (even more) faith in the legal system.

The use of molka cameras, if proven, should carry with it a guaranteed jail sentence.

Punishment should also be for the purpose of rehabilitation and feature aspects of counselling rather than simply retribution. There is a need to educate certain elements of the population on what constitutes appropriate behavior and, more importantly, how one should perceive other members of society with whom they live.

This should also extend to basic education and schooling. Korean society has a great many positives and is often a beacon of democracy and press freedoms in the Northeast Asian context. Yet, in terms of the gender equality in the OECD, it scores depressingly low.

Open and mature discussions need to take place. This might be difficult for a country that has a rather embarrassed attitude to sex at times, but rather face this embarrassment than have the countless victims deal with continued fear and violation.

Another measure to be taken is to restrict the sales of these spy cams. When purchasing such devices, the owners should be required to register their names and addresses. This will not solve the problem in and of itself, but it will at least detract some from buying the devices on their way home from work or school.

Making pornography legal is another solution offered by some. This is clearly a more contentious issue – the misuse of pornography is dangerous and can lead to worsening attitudes towards the opposite sex. Perhaps there is a middle-ground to be found in that regard.

No singular causal answer to this problem exists, and thus attempts at reductionism will fail. Instead, there needs to be a nationwide concerted effort at the social, educational, technological, legal, and cultural level.

Perhaps the country might start by focusing its energies not on the neighbours that it hates, but rather the women here that it loves.

David Tizzard (datizzard@swu.ac.kr) is an assistant professor at Seoul Women's University.