Why Koreans hold celebrities to sky-high moral standards

Chef Im Seong-keun from "Culinary Class Wars" Season 2 admits to drunk driving in the past in this video uploaded on his YouTube channel. Screenshot from Im’s YouTube

Korea’s harsh moral expectations for public figures have once again come under scrutiny, as star chef Im Seong-keun saw his hard-won fame evaporate almost overnight following revelations of past drunk-driving offenses.

Sociologists say this goes beyond cancel culture, reflecting how Korean society views celebrities as moral proxies, emotional surrogates and symbols of justice in an unequal society.

Im shot to national fame on Netflix’s “Culinary Class Wars" Season 2, where viewers praised his skill, humor and easy rapport with younger chefs. His simple, affordable recipes went viral on YouTube, and by early January his inbox was overflowing with collaboration requests and commercial offers from major broadcasters and brands.

The momentum collapsed on Sunday, when he posted a YouTube video confessing to multiple drunk driving offenses over roughly a decade, saying he had "made mistakes because of my love for alcohol" and had even had his license revoked. Subsequent reporting revealed at least four DUI cases, including one involving riding a motorcycle while intoxicated and without a license, with a blood alcohol level nearly twice the legal revocation threshold.

Broadcasters quickly pulled or canceled his appearances, with programs on major TV shows shelving recorded episodes as Im asked producers and advertisers to “take everything down” and discussed returning advertising fees.

Im’s case fits a familiar pattern in Korean entertainment, where allegations of school bullying and drunk driving are widely viewed as career-ending

In recent years, actors, comedians and musicians have stepped away from the spotlight or lost long-term projects over allegations of past school violence. Drunk driving incidents — involving figures ranging from young stars like the late actor Kim Sae-ron to veteran entertainers — have similarly resulted in suspended projects, lost endorsements and prolonged self-imposed hiatuses amid fierce public backlash.

Actor Kim Sae-ron arrives at Seoul Central District Court, April 5, 2023, to attend her first trial sentencing on charges related to drunk driving. Korea Times file

Online, these penalties are often amplified by intense commentary, with critics arguing that Korea’s punitive cancel culture can verge on bullying and permanent ostracism. Yet public sentiment consistently treats drunk driving and school violence as nonnegotiable breaches, especially when victims or potential harm to others are involved.

Sociologists note that many Koreans view celebrities not merely as talented individuals but as figures whose success depends on public support — from views and ticket sales to emotional investment.

Media scholar Kang Jun-man has described entertainers as “emotional agents” and “quasi-public officials” in his books and columns, arguing that their fame is built on collective emotional support, making their moral lapses feel like an abuse of delegated power.

Stardom, Kang suggests, resembles a form of entrusted authority: When a celebrity with a record of violence or repeated drunk driving thrives, the public reads it as an illegitimate benefit from a shared asset. Stripping endorsements, canceling appearances or demanding hiatuses become framed less as censorship and more as taking back power from someone unfit to wield it.

Kim Mun-jo, a sociology professor at Korea University, emphasizes the strength of retributive justice in Korea, where many feel blocked from upward mobility and view everyday life as rife with unfair advantages and structural favoritism. When someone with a harmful past appears to be rewarded with fame and wealth, it can trigger intense resentment among those who feel they play by the rules yet remain stuck.

“[Koreans’] resentment is not just a personal anger but a form of social pain that arises from the belief that the world is not fair. The more a society loses its sense of fairness, the more sensitively the public reacts to celebrities’ moral flaws and seeks to confirm social justice through them,” he said.

Ajou University sociology professor Nho Myung-woo describes Korean fandom as “emotional communities,” where fans are not passive consumers but “emotional laborers” who help construct a star’s reputation through streaming, voting and promotion. Because fans see themselves as co-builders of that success, a star’s scandal feels like damage to a shared property rather than a stranger’s private mistake.

“A star is a shared creation brought into being through fans’ emotional labor. Therefore, a star’s immorality is perceived by fans as a betrayal that damages the value of their emotional behavior,” Nho wrote in his book, “Sociology into Worldly Affairs.”