Not Scary Company helps reclusive young people return to society

Yoo Seung-gyu, founder of Not Scary Company, laughs while talking with young residents at the organization’s shared housing in Seoul's Samyang-dong. Korea Times photo by Choi Ju-yeon

Lee Myung-sun was 27 when he withdrew into his room.

“I just stared at job applications,” he said. “Convenience stores, cafes, PC rooms, restaurants — I couldn’t bring myself to apply anywhere. I was scared. I kept thinking, ‘People will think I’m pathetic working part-time at this age.’”

Until a few years earlier, isolation had seemed a remote problem. His first job was at one of the busiest hotel buffets in Seoul, where he worked more than 80 hours a week starting at 4:30 a.m. Initially dissatisfied with his skills in the kitchen, Lee pushed himself —until his chronically weak right wrist was injured while training in Australia.

Despite surgery, his wrist never fully recovered. Rehabilitation felt meaningless, and so began a period of reclusion that stretched to three years. He tried to return to work several times, but each attempt ended after a few months and each failure deepened his anxiety.

When he quit his job at a Vietnamese food company, anxiety and paranoia began to overwhelm him to the point that the thought of ending his life crept into his mind.

What eventually drew Lee back outside was an unusually named organization: Not Scary Company. A friend in similar circumstances suggested they visit together. For someone who found the world frightening, the name alone was disarming.

As it turned out, Not Scary Company was a group that calls people like Lee “masters of isolation,” promising to turn their experience into a form of qualification rather than stigma.

Participants take part in Not Scary Company’s “Masters of Isolation” program, held annually since 2022 to train young people with experience living in isolation as peer supporters for other reclusive youth and their families. Courtesy of Not Scary Company.

530,000 young Koreans hidden in their rooms

In Korea, a large number of young people have become reclusive, remaining mostly at home for six months or more. Statistics show there were about 537,000 nationwide as of 2024, but experts believe the actual number is higher.

Yoo Seung-gyu, the organisation’s 33-year-old founder, said he also spent half of his twenties as a reclusive young person in a space he calls a "trash room."

“For three years after I turned twenty, and for two more years after military service, I just stayed in my room,” he said.

The room where Yoo Seung-gyu lived in prolonged isolation. Courtesy of Yoo Seung-gyu

Yoo’s own experience led him to create the organization, after a Japanese nonprofit supporting reclusive youth withdrew from Korea due to financial difficulties. The following year, he founded Not Scary Company, a nonprofit social enterprise that supports young people living in isolation and their families. The organization is funded through public and private support programs, along with a social innovation fellowship backed by Kakao.

As part of their support program, they run a shared living community in Not Scary House. The program renovated two houses into a shared home for seven to ten people at a time, providing them with assistance and a place to live as they rebuild their lives.

Rehabilitation begins with restoring daily routines: waking up on time, washing, getting dressed and attending morning meetings to just talk about how they feel. Lunch is prepared together, and chores such as laundry, cleaning and shopping are divided evenly.

In addition to training aimed at helping them regain social skills, there are regular workshops where participants share their past experiences and traumas.

Photos of residents, along with lunch menus and grocery lists, are posted on a refrigerator in the living room of Not Scary House. Korea Times photo by Choi Ju-yeon

The trap of returning to work too quickly

Helping participants find jobs comes only after daily routines have been restored, or, as Yoo puts it, after the “process of raising a person anew” is complete.

“We’ve asked reclusive people what they did to try to get out of their rooms. Most replied they tried building resumes. They thought once they get a job, everything would be solved.”

The reality is exactly opposite, Yoo added.

“Often they find themselves quickly quitting work. The experience leads to even longer and deeper reclusion. And it’s natural. Throwing someone who hasn’t left their room for years into a harsh, competitive environment is like pushing them to the edge.”

Breaking the vicious cycle of isolation

Statistics support Yoo’s belief and Lee’s experience, showing that young people who have experienced isolation face a high risk of relapse. The average rate of recidivism is estimated at 45.6 percent.

Government and municipal programs for such people typically run for only one to two months. Yoo argues that they need at least six months, along with sustained follow-up care, for lasting recovery.

Based on this belief, Not Scary Company requires applicants to commit to living in the shared house for at least a year. Yoo says a prolonged period away from family while building relationships with new people is essential, which is why the organization continues to operate its shared home despite the financial strain.

Yoo explains that once the rehabilitation process is complete, residents tend to form small groups of two or three people to live together for some time before becoming fully independent. The recidivist rate among graduates of Not Scary Company's program is under ten percent.

Yoo Seung-gyu, center, founder of Not Scary Company, poses with staff members Lee Myung-sun, left, and Shin Hyun-jae at the organization’s office. Both staff members previously experienced multiple episodes of isolation. Korea Times photo by Choi Ju-yeon

Shin Hyun-jae, 30, also spent a year in the shared home. She is now preparing to live independently for the first time.

“Once you share your living space, there’s no way to hide who you really are or pretend to be someone else. Even your most embarrassing sides come to light, and that’s when you realize, ‘People don’t hate me for it.’”

That’s when your defenses start to come down, she added. “It’s also when you learn how to understand other people’s pain and struggles.”

World where isolation becomes strength, not weakness

Preventing young people from slipping back into isolation depends on the kind of work available to them. With physical health and stamina often eroded after years of isolation, immediately jumping into a conventional work schedule can be overwhelming.

“The rules of the game need to change so not every player is expected to run on the same field under the same rules,” Yoo said. Society needs more jobs and opportunities where socially vulnerable people can turn their weaknesses into strengths.

Experiments overseas offer clues. In Japan, young people who became reclusive due to severe physical disabilities are working as cafe servers through remotely operated robots. At the “Dialogue in the Dark” exhibition in Germany, visually impaired guides lead visitors through pitch-black spaces as professional facilitators and curators.

Japan’s Kumanote Cafe, where young people with social anxiety hide their faces and pass drinks to customers using gloves, offers another example. When Not Scary Company benchmarked the idea and opened a pop-up in Seoul’s Seongsu district in 2022, the job competition ratio reached 175 to one.

Isolation is not an individual problem but a challenge society must address together, Kim Sun-min, a lawmaker on the National Assembly’s Health and Welfare Committee, said after visiting the company.

“The state will establish an integrated recovery support system covering housing, relationships and employment to break the cycle of withdrawal and relapse,” she added.

A young resident who moved into the Not Scary House last year sits in his room. Korea Times photo by Choi Ju-hyeon

Isolation is something anyone can experience

Yoo emphasized that isolation and withdrawal are not a major downfall but a stage anyone can go through at some point in life.

“In counseling, we see graduates from top-tier universities, middle-aged workers who have been laid off, women struggling to return to work after childbirth and childcare and immigrant workers facing difficulties adapting to a new country. Isolation is not a sign of a great unraveling; it is simply a phase that can happen to anyone living in a competitive society.”

“What we need is a little patience — to wait for those whose legs have given out to stand again,” he added.

This article from the Hankook Ilbo, the sister publication of The Korea Times, is translated by a generative AI system and edited by The Korea Times.