The children of K-pop

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A few weeks ago The Korea Times reported on the controversy over the K-pop audition show UNDER15 which, the article reports, would features girls as young as 8 competing for a spot in a new girl group.

I couldn’t bring myself to look at anything else about this show. Do I really need to? Does anyone? If this report is even half right then there’s no need to judge for ourselves the exact details of how risqué the clothes were, how inappropriate the choreography was or how commodified the children seemed. Just cancel the show.

The phenomenal success of the Korean entertainment companies probably can’t be separated from the exploitation and, let’s be frank, objectification of minors. It is hardly news that the K-pop industry hypersexualises its performers, nor is it a secret that plenty debut before they reach adulthood. Usually producers and managers seem more careful with younger stars, though as I’ve argued in the past, they don’t always get it right.

And conversely, the singers who have actually passed the age of consent are often stylised to look younger. How many K-pop videos feature provocative dances in school uniforms? And what about aegyo? The lines are constantly blurred between artistic expression and straightforward sexualisation, as are the lines between late childhood and early adulthood.

If there’s any kind of ambiguity about whether a particular dance or song performed by a minor has crossed the line into being too sexualised – is that skirt too short, or not quite? Are those lyrics too suggestive, or am I reading too much into it? – then we have already failed as a society to protect these young people.

As I was fretting about the issue last week, I saw that the production company held a press conference attempting to defend their actions with a series of explanations which if anything just made it worse. The Korea Times reported that Hwang In-young, co-CEO of Crea Studio, the production company making the show, said that “Not only Crea Studio, but also many participants, performers, trainers and crew members involved in this project are experiencing damage to their reputation.”

Fellow CEO Seo Hye-jin argued that the barcodes and ages displayed in a teaser for the show were not intended to objectify the participants, stressing that the concept’s designer was a female in her 30s, as if that somehow changed anything. Perhaps most frustrating of all, a producer said that “Canceling the broadcast would be devastating” for the children involved.

All of this shows a complete failure to understand the criticism they were facing. If the complaints that the show is objectifying or exploiting the children are true, then it doesn’t matter whether the children would be disappointed. What kind of absurd logical trail reaches the conclusion that the exploitation of children should go forward so that their feelings don’t get hurt? And if the criticism is fair, then how could anyone complain about “damage” to their reputation?

On the other hand, if the complaints are as false as Crea Studio claims, then why would they focus on anything other than that? If you are going to hold a press conference to defend yourself from such a serious accusation then don’t point in any other direction. Prove to us how and why the critics are wrong. Show us the measures you’ve put in place that ensure the children’s physical and mental health.

Even if we put aside the complaints about sexualisation and commodification – which we shouldn’t – this programme still sets off big red warning sirens. It is exposing children to the kinds of pressures and influences from which they should be protected. It tells them that their worth is decided by numbers, by strangers who judge them on the most superficial of things.

However true or false this cynical view of the world ultimately is, are we really going to shove 8-year-olds on screen to face the kind of attacks that Korean entertainers regularly endure and then expect these little kids to get on with their lives as happy, well-adjusted citizens? Have we not yet seen enough stars die?

It was a relief therefore to see the announcement late last week that MBN, the network which had planned to broadcast UNDER15, had cancelled the show.

But there is a wider issue here. UNDER15 was simply exposing and exaggerating something that already happens. Even putting aside the most disturbing aspects of the story, children training for the K-pop industry already go through all kinds of intense regimes and face immense pressure: scrutiny over what they eat, how they look, move, talk. They compete fiercely for those coveted places in the next big group. This is nothing new, which is presumably why the creators of the show seemed to struggle so much to understand the criticism they received.

UNDER15 is a symptom of the industry’s problems, a cockroach in the kitchen of the national conscience – if we can see this one so brazenly parading on the counter, we can be pretty sure there are many more lurking under the sink and behind the fridge. This one may have been squashed, but there are plenty more left.

We can accept that K-pop undeniably brings many real benefits to the country, both tangible and not, while also holding the belief that these are simply not worth the exploitation of children.

The system needs reform. This is not to say that no children should be permitted to train or that the whole industry should be dismantled entirely – but there must be stronger protections for trainees. Enough scandals have emerged from the K-pop industry to know that we can’t trust the companies to manage their own affairs.