Cho's in-flight wobbly: The upside

By Andrew Salmon

Two weeks ago, en route from Mexico City to Incheon, I had the misfortune to transit via LA International Airport (LAX). My flight times granted me two hours to disembark from aircraft A and re-embark onto aircraft B.

"Easy," you may think. In most airports ― airports equipped with transit facilities ― you would be right. But LAX is not "most airports."

My first hour in the City of Angels was spent shuffling slowly along in an immigration queue overseen by inept bureaucrats. Next, I was interrogated by surly customs officials. Finally, I was disgorged, blinking and gaping, onto the tarmac ― for LAX apparently does not do transit. Instead, passengers must exit the "arrivals" terminal; walk (or jog) 10 minutes to the "departures" terminal; check in; pass emigration and security; then hopefully board their flight.

Complicating my journey was that fact that I had purchased duty-free booze in Mexico City Airport. As one cannot take liquids through airport security, disaster loomed.

This is when my airline's ground staff rode to the rescue. A charming maiden was assigned to walk me through security and explain everything. Day saved! At the departure gate (with minutes to spare) I was wished a good flight. Then we ascended into the clouds.

Twelve hours across the Pacific in economy is usually a trial-by-fire, but the in-flight service was so good that the hours actually passed quite enjoyably.

Which airline boasted this exceptional, polite, friendly and efficient service? Korean Air.

What I did not know was that, on the same day another Korean Air flight had flown into a public relations catastrophe from another U.S. airport. I speak, of course, of the fateful aircraft that conveyed Korean Air heiress Heather Cho from New York City into the annals of shabby misbehavior.

The "nutgate" scandal and this repellent individual's ongoing humiliation at the hands of a gloating media represents a fine example of non-judicial justice (and a damned fine sport to watch). Who knows? The precedent may make other chaebol princes and princesses think twice before exercising their imperial prerogatives.

I am less edified to see various public institutions jumping on the bandwagon in their eagerness to be seen slamming Ms. Cho. For though I am no judicial expert, I see no legal case against her. While she did, indeed, throw a wobbly, there is no law against anger.

The man who turned the aircraft around and delayed departure ― rather than marching into the cabin and ordering Heather to mind her manners and shut her trap ― was the captain. What was this poltroon doing kowtowing to a shrieking harpy abusing his crew member? His sniveling desire to please Princess Heather was a clear abrogation of a captain's duty to passengers and crew.

This is the crux of the problem. So hierarchical is the culture of some chaebol, that there is a near-slavish subservience to founder-family members.

In Mafia families, it is common for low-level gangsters to take the rap for family higher-ups. Likewise in chaebol. Frequently, executives take legal responsibility for bad behavior ordered by (and designed to benefit), chaebol family members.

For example, senior executives of chaebol "S" received suspended prison sentences for engineering a dubious share deal designed to smooth the inheritance of a third-generation prince. The latter benefitted from the scam and suffered no sanction.

And a gang of thugs and "security staff" who, acting under the orders of the chairman of chaebol "H," kidnapped and tortured a group of youths who had irked the chairman's obnoxious brat, were jailed. The godfather ― whoops, chairman ― who ordered this crime was sentenced to 200 hours of community service.

This is one reason chaebol bosses have, for so long, evaded justice: They know their subordinates will fall on their swords. So how can this cycle of royal-slave behavior be smashed?

Clearly, the judiciary needs to get tougher with chairmen and their families ― and might benefit from investigating a little more closely who orders what, and why. But while the law must be impartial, the answer to the bigger problem is not to punish related executives (or in this case, the captain).

In "nutgate," no actual crime has been committed, but an entitled person who has been chewing on a silver spoon since the cradle, and who has inherited a position of power, has blatantly abused that position and humiliated a subordinate. The subsequent public outcry suggests that Korean society is finally losing its tolerance for the low behavior of its upper class.

This is the most positive outcome to emerge from the whole shoddy affair, for only when this deeply unpleasant aspect of corporate culture is uprooted will the arrogance and entitlement of the rich and powerful dissipate.

And when legal justice cannot be exercised, but natural justice is called for, well thank God for a free media.

Andrew Salmon is a Seoul-based reporter and author. Reach him at andrewcsalmon@yahoo.co.uk.