
Eugene Lee
In the late 1990s after the economic crisis, the Korean government accepted a new form of governance based on New Public Management, with neoliberal approaches to governance at its core, as part of IMF loan conditions. As a result, the downsized ministries and government agencies began to heavily depend on external expertise, namely, consultancies, think tanks and even universities. All, seemingly efficient and very specialized, were seen as nice and result-oriented. For public officials, it meant less headache, and if something was unpopular, then they could have their very own scapegoat.
Outsourcing became a legitimate way to protect the state's decisions, especially in areas of discontent (trade policy, infrastructure development, or environmental planning, for example). On the one hand, the government began to boast about the creation of the “Knowledge Economy” as policy domains became more complex. The consultancies grew richer, think tanks became more influential, and some professors even managed to acquire posh cars to drive themselves to their lecture halls.
On the other hand, however, the government itself grew dependent on outsiders and began to lose its internal expertise. Some grand, country-scale projects (I’ll skip titles for a moment) lost their coherence as various contractors with colliding visions lined up for government money. Opaque influence networks with close political connections began to dominate social and business spheres, all while merit had become useless. Exorbitant fees with minimal oversight, worsened by low accountability — yes, some consultancies did fail but went unpunished — began to create a new, often corrupt, rent-seeking and even dehumanizing governance culture.
Many Korean research institutes began to operate at the intersection of public and private, blurring the lines between advising and lobbying. Universities and graduate schools began to orient themselves toward policy consulting, project management, and government contracting, influencing the career choices of young people who already face challenges in finding employment.
Today, some Korean consultancies serve international clientele and even grow outside the country (e.g., Southeast Asia or Central Asia). Embedding themselves in Ministry of Foreign Affairs projects, they are expanding their models abroad through KOICA and KDI School initiatives.
Speaking of MOFA, some American think tanks have a direct influence on South Korean foreign policy, and unfortunately, some warmongering professors (and even former ambassadors) affiliated with one of those think tanks are promoting the interests of large U.S. military companies in Korea by stirring up “Trump fears” among the public and policymakers. Are they truly factoring in the "TACO" dynamic?!
Dear Mr. President, you arrive at the helm of a nation marked by brilliance and pain — home to global tech giants, yet weighed down by aging and sometimes rotten institutions; a vibrant democracy, yet deeply polarized; a society driven by education, yet increasingly fatigued by inequality, corruption and stagnation. There is no shortage of diagnoses. What we now require is your moral courage to lead systemic change, not just cosmetic reform.
Let us begin where trust has eroded most: public governance. Citizens are weary of shadow networks, parachute appointments and opaque budgeting. We urge you not to merely rearrange bureaucratic decks, but to instill real transparency, protect whistleblowers, and enforce open procurement systems. Ministries must not be career ladders for elites but serve the people.
The foundation of any public governance is the rule of law. While the Constitution, the court system, and the prosecution are vast topics that deserve dedicated attention, I’ll leave them outside the scope of this article. However, given their fundamental role, let’s begin where they intersect most directly with public governance: corruption.
Addressing corruption will require reworked legislation targeting it, along with a refreshed watchdog — the Anti-Corruption & Civil Rights Commission (ACRC). This may sound complicated, but in reality, it is not. In terms of the law, a starting point is the elimination of the statute of limitations or "gongseosihyo." This will make it difficult for corrupt businessmen and public officials to avoid responsibility. Institutionally, we can split the ACRC into two entities: one would broadly focus not only on corruption but on any white-collar crime, and the other on civil rights issues.
This isn’t enough, however, as such measures alone may simply instill fear in some and resentment in others. We must also educate people about their country’s history and appeal to their sense of patriotism. Open the national archives — not only to address historic injustices, but also to recognize those who were unjustly forgotten. End this artificially induced historical amnesia. Restore the spirit of the nation. This is what we must strive for.
Now is the time for real change, Mr. President. Economic justice must move beyond campaign platitudes. Korean youth are not 'lazy' or 'entitled' — they are rational actors navigating a rigged housing market and a rigid, hierarchical labor system. They deeply resent the so-called 'family-like' corporate culture.
Real reform demands breaking the collusive ties between politics and chaebol boardrooms, expanding access to credit and ownership for SMEs and social enterprises, and advancing policies that uphold the dignity of non-traditional work. Break the corporate and social ladders, Mr. President. Let the younger generation breathe!
All of this comes down to one reason: the AI revolution is coming — and it will hurt. Consider just one example: in 2021, the Dutch government was forced to resign over a scandal involving a self-learning algorithm used for fraud detection in the distribution of child care benefits. The system wrongly flagged innocent citizens, who were then ordered to repay benefits and pay fines. Tens of thousands of families were pushed into poverty due to earlier government decisions. This stands as a cautionary tale for all of us, especially as we rush to digitize and deploy AI across government platforms, often by outsourcing them to private companies.
We call for a new civic imagination. We can no longer outsource moral leadership to the courts or rely on foreign pressure. Democratic ethics must be taught — from schools to civil service academies. Political literacy should not be the privilege of the few, but the inheritance of all.
Eugene Lee (mreulee@gmail.com) is a lecturing professor at the Graduate School of Governance at Sungkyunkwan University in Seoul. Specializing in international relations and governance, his research and teaching focus is on national and regional security, international development, government policies and Northeast and Central Asia. The views expressed in this article are his own.