Desk Column Who's to blame for decline of legacy media?

Two people stage one-person protests in front of the Constitutional Court on March 21. The man in left upholds a banner urging the court to dismiss the impeachment of then-President Yoon Suk Yeol and the woman on the right holds a banner pressuring the court to impeach Yoon. Yonhap

As a commuter, I’m used to spending nearly three hours a day on the road — traveling to my office in central Seoul and back home to the suburbs after work. Riding the bus isn’t so bad. In fact, it’s often far better than taking the subway, which is infamous for being overcrowded during the morning rush hour.

On the bus, I usually spend time resting, napping or simply watching the changing scenery through the window. It’s a calm and peaceful part of my day — at least until it’s interrupted, seemingly out of nowhere, by a radio news show blasting from the driver's speaker system. These radio programs often feel like a snapshot of Korea’s deep political divide.

Some hosts are so overtly biased that I question their professionalism. They speak freely about their political leanings without the slightest attempt at neutrality. Their choice of guests can be just as questionable.

As just one of many passengers on the bus, I have no choice but to listen. This kind of forced listening is stressful, especially during what I prefer to be the quiet hours of a daily commute.

Last Wednesday was one of those days. A morning news show was playing, and a host, along with three panelists, were discussing former President Yoon Suk Yeol, who was impeached by the Constitutional Court on April 4 and is currently on trial for insurrection.

Their conversation was so casual it felt more like idle gossip than serious journalism. The entire show came across as a group of like-minded individuals gathered to publicly vilify a politician they clearly despised.

Rep. Kim Han-kyu of the Democratic Party of Korea (DPK), one of the panelists, inadvertently highlighted the imbalance of the show.

“I just realized all four of us are anti-Yoon and agree he did wrong. There’s no one here to offer a different perspective. Don’t you think this show is a bit one-sided?” he said, chuckling.

The others — including the host — didn’t respond. They simply giggled as if his comment wasn’t something to take seriously.

It was far from a proper news show. Instead, the panelists used the radio broadcast as an opportunity to publicly vent their personal grievances against the ousted president.

Kim Keun-sik, a research professor at the Institute for Far Eastern Studies at Kyungnam University, openly expressed his relief at Yoon’s departure from the conservative camp. “There’s a rumor that Yoon tried to contact some lawmakers, but they didn’t answer his calls,” he said. “Yoon is said to be frustrated after realizing that people he once trusted are now distancing themselves from him. Upset, he’s started associating with far-right figures — like his two lawyers, who recently had lunch with him. This is good news for the People Power Party (PPP), in my view, because without Yoon’s influence, the party has a better chance of defeating the Democratic Party of Korea.”

Among the three panelists, Kim was the only one loosely affiliated with the conservative side. But if he was invited to represent the PPP, he was a poor choice. Kim is not a mainstream figure within the party. He belongs to a minor faction aligned with former PPP leader Han Dong-hoon, who is a vocal critic of Yoon. Ironically, Han owes much of his rise — from prosecutor to politician — to Yoon. Still, their relationship soured, and that rift reportedly contributed to Yoon’s shocking declaration of martial law in December.

Some Yoon supporters now label Han a traitor — a claim he rejects. When it comes to Yoon, Kim shares Han’s perspective, and his biting remarks on the radio seem to stem from that shared resentment.

In a democracy, it’s natural — even necessary — for politicians to face criticism. But such criticism should be rooted in facts, not personal grudges.

When someone is publicly attacked, they or their representatives deserve the opportunity to respond. The right to reply is a cornerstone of ethical journalism. Without it, true balance in media reporting is impossible.

An unbalanced media outlet will eventually lose public trust. Likewise, a radio show that denies the accused a chance to defend themselves is not journalism — it’s a weapon for character assassination.

Forced listening to politically biased content goes against democratic values. No one should be made to consume media involuntarily. Policymakers should consider regulations that prohibit bus drivers from playing news shows during service hours.

In this digital era, the media landscape is undergoing a major transformation. New media is on the rise, often at the expense of traditional outlets. It’s a zero-sum game — and if legacy media fails to maintain balance and credibility, its struggle to survive will only grow more difficult.