Can boys and girls be friends in Korea?
Courtesy of Yimnao
Everyone has a different answer to the question of whether boys and girls can be friends. Some will say that it is impossible because male-female friendships are predicated on one of the people secretly liking the other. Others will suggest that it is ridiculous to say gender gets in the way of friendship. And then there are groups that simply blame men and their untrustworthiness for the whole thing. There’s a whole range of answers. Most of which are informed by our own experiences, culture, and worldview.
What I have noticed is that the vast majority of my European students will say, “Of course men and women can be friends. I have many female/male friends. It is natural to be close to all kinds of people.” The majority of my Korean students, however, respond with a sharp intake of breath. A silence descends. They think that male and female friendships are not possible. There’s always the threat of romantic interest bubbling below the surface. Platonic relationships between people of the opposite gender are simply charades masking the eventual confession to come.
And, to be clear, not all Korean people think men and women can’t be friends. Nor do all Europeans think they can. It’s just that you are far more likely to receive that answer than the other if you ask them. Having heard these observations for the past decade or so when discussing love, gender and modern living, I nevertheless struggled for a few reasons as to why this cultural divergence might exist.
Religious foundations or modernization?
It might be easy to retreat to the religious and philosophical foundations of a culture when seeking answers. Confucianism (or Neo-Confucianism) places an emphasis on difference (“byul”) rather than equality or sameness. Men and women, to coexist, are meant to adopt different roles and positions if they are to create harmony: “bu-bu-you-byul.” According to Confucian ethics, boys and girls were to be separated from an early age (around six or seven) and then provided different education. While that doesn’t happen so formally today, there is still a glut of women’s universities here in Korea and the boys are all sent off to do two years of compulsory military service. In modern gender terms, biological realities, rather than any post-modern fluid understanding, takes precedence.
Maybe that’s the reason? The big C of Neo-Confucianism maintaining its grip over Korean values, ideas and morals. But while Korea has certainly become one of the most Confucian countries in the world, surpassing even China in its demand for titles, age-based hierarchy, and etiquette, that can’t be the only reason.
Some in the West might proudly suggest theirs is the culture of a rugged individualism in which everyone is treated equally irrespective of their gender or skin color. Yet as lovely as such pronouncements might be, one only has to go back a century or two to find a society very different from today. George Eiliot’s “Middlemarch,” a wonderfully-detailed exploration of Victorian morals and relationships, detailed the formality required by British societies as well as the necessity of chastity, that men and women not meet without a chaperone and so on. And you thought it was only the Koreans who were prudish?
This might suggest that it is not culture but rather modernization that creates a greater equality and egalitarian between the sexes. Our contemporary capitalist world wants everyone to work, everyone to have a credit card, and everyone to pay taxes. In that sense, whether you are a man or a woman, you all follow the same rules of the economic imperatives: individualism, authenticity, and consumerism. The West, largely for reasons of colonialism and war, went through these changes earlier than the East. Men and women were thrust together in offices, classrooms, and subways decades before East Asia.
Rather than culture, therefore, a country’s modernization will determine whether boys and girls can be friends. The more modern a country, irrespective of the religious or philosophical foundations it holds, the more likely it is to accept friendships across sexes. This will be possible whether the country is socialist, Christian, Confucian, or otherwise. Those who affirm that such friendships are not possible are more likely to hold conservative or traditional views, seeing sex and gender before anything else.
Media and representation
Furthermore, I couldn’t help but wonder about how media and representation has shaped cultural views, particularly here in Korea. The country’s dramas are filled with love, romance and intrigue. One of the most common plot points is having two friends, female and male, go through school, work, or life together only to slowly come to the realization that they love each other. Audiences love watching this friendship turn into something romantic. Gasping at all the stolen glances, the furtive attempts at physical contact, and then the big money shot: the confession (go-bek).
“Coffee Prince” starring Yun Eun-hye and Gong Yoo often gets talked about not only for its undercurrents of a LGBT vibes but also for its ultimate confession of love between two characters who were once friends. “Hometown Cha Cha Cha” sees Shin Min-ah’s eyes sparkle as she pours her heart out to Kim Seon-ho. “Reply 1997” and “Reply 1998” also have memorable confessions that are talked about by many online.
Because it is so successful, there are far fewer dramas that actually avoid this trope. “Hospital Playlist” remains wholesome in its depictions of friendship between the groups. The excellent “My Mister” sees the male and female leads help each other in their own lives without any real hint of romance (though the age gap might be doing a lot of work here).
If hyperreality is a thing and we imagine our lives to be like those we see played out on screen, no wonder that many here might think their relationship with their male or female friend is only a moment away from descending into chaos following a sudden revelation of suppressed feelings and the need for a wrist to be suddenly grabbed, rain to fall, and the OST to kick in dramatically.
No social media
Amidst all of these explorations, there was something new I discovered recently about Korean youth, relationships, and their use of social media. While I’ve long known that most Koreans have a second Insta account and that in a wonderful paradox, their second fake account is the real one and their main real one is actually fake so as to help keep up the illusion of a perfectly lived life, there is something interesting about who gets to see the second (real) account. Many young women said that they do not let their boyfriends know about their second account or don’t accept their friend requests there. Koreans nodded sagely in agreement. European jaws dropped to the floor.
Again, this is not to generalize this behavior over the entire population, but the idea that even your romantic partner of the opposite sex doesn’t get to see your real (fake) Insta blows my mind. Wasn’t life so much easier when we didn’t have phones or the internet? But then again, young people today will never know the horrors of phoning your girlfriend’s house and having to speak to their parents first.
Maybe whether you think boys and girls can be friends is influenced by your religion or culture. Maybe it’s determined by how modern your society is. Perhaps its shaped by the media and images you consume online. Or, it could just be a case of whether you’ve had positive or negative experiences with the opposite sex in your life thus far.
I have no problem being friends with anyone, to be honest. Of course their identity is of great interest and I love learning about what it means to be Chinese, whether Muslim women have multiple hijabs to match their clothes, or how it feels to be a Korean man tasked with completing military service. But ultimately it comes down to the person behind the identity. The soul, the existence, the essence of that person that lies beneath. The interest in this exists on a level beyond any romantic interest or gender. Whether that is considered progressive or conservative today I’m not quite sure. But I know that quite a few young Koreans disagree with my perspective. Whether they will in 20-30 years remains to be seen.
David A. Tizzard has a doctorate 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. He can be reached at datizzard@swu.ac.kr.