Kim Jung-ha
The author is an editorial writer at the JoongAng Ilbo.
Human cognition evolved to grasp the predictable world of classical mechanics - apples fall, objects have mass and motion follows rules. Quantum mechanics, by contrast, defies intuition. Before measurement, particles exist in superposition, simultaneously occupying multiple states and their behavior can only be described in probabilities. Even Albert Einstein rejected this indeterministic view, spending decades as what some called "the great outsider of physics." Richard Feynman, a Nobel laureate, once remarked, "Nobody understands quantum mechanics."
Against that backdrop, Democratic Party lawmaker Choi Min-hee's remark, "I was too busy studying quantum mechanics to focus on my daughter's wedding," may sound less absurd than it first appears. At 65, and trained as a historian, Choi would indeed find quantum physics a formidable read. But her claim that she was too preoccupied to manage her daughter's wedding strains belief more than quantum indeterminacy itself. The ceremony, held on Oct. 18 at the Sarangjae Hall in the National Assembly, was a significant event, with Choi in traditional Korean dress, hanbok, greeting guests as the mother of the bride. In Korea, where family rites carry deep cultural weight, it is implausible that a mother could be indifferent to her daughter's wedding.
The controversy arose because critics suspected that Choi, as chair of the parliamentary Committee on Science, ICT, Broadcasting and Communications, may have received large congratulatory payments from organizations under her committee's oversight. The suspicion proved partly true. On Oct. 26, cameras captured her phone screen showing a Telegram message listing amounts beside the names of corporations and broadcasters: "1 million won [$700]," "200,000 won," "500,000 won," "300,000 won," and "total 9.3 million won." One message read, "9 million won deposited, 300,000 won handed to chief Kim."
As the issue spread, Choi's office claimed the messages instructed aides to return the money received from corporations and institutions.
But can a refund erase the problem? Korea's Improper Solicitation and Graft Act, also known as the "Kim Young-ran Act," criminalizes public officials who receive more than 1 million won in a single instance - or over 3 million won annually from the same person - regardless of job relevance. Even under that threshold, if related to official duties, the act provides fines or disciplinary action. For weddings or funerals, the legal limit is 50,000 won for cash gifts (100,000 won for floral wreaths).
If the donor has a personal relationship with the recipient, one might forgive exceeding the legal limit. Inflation alone has rendered the thresholds somewhat outdated. But if a committee chair overseeing major corporations receives hundreds of thousands of won from those very entities, the legal risk is clear. In some cases, it could even qualify as bribery - and returning a bribe later does not nullify the crime.
It is also unclear whether Choi refunded all questionable payments. Reform Party lawmaker Kim Jae-seop quipped, "Choi Min-hee's wedding money is like a Schrödinger's cash gift. Until we open the box, we won't know whether it's a bribe or not. Let's have a clean investigation." The comparison invoked Schrödinger's famous paradox: a cat sealed in a box with a vial of poison gas exists in a state of both life and death until observed. Likewise, the nature of the money in Choi's gift box remains uncertain - both legitimate and illicit until examined by prosecutors.
The problem began when the wedding was held so publicly. In Korea, when high-ranking officials announce family celebrations, companies with ties to their offices often deliver generous gifts, a practice long whispered about. Some reportedly receive sums totaling hundreds of millions of won. Choi may simply have joined that "gift economy," confident in her political stature, until the expo...