Korea JoongAng Daily - Daily News from Korea

This article is by Michael Lee and read by an artificial voice.

A new exhibition at the National Museum of Korean Democracy is offering Korean audiences a deeply personal perspective on the Holocaust through the life and art of German Jewish painter Felix Nussbaum.

Named "On the Move with Felix Nussbaum," the exhibition opened on Wednesday and runs through March 15. This marks the first time Nussbaum's works have been shown in Korea.

The exhibition was organized in connection with International Holocaust Remembrance Day on Tuesday and followed a joint memorial ceremony held the same day by the German and Israeli embassies in Seoul. The event honored the 81st anniversary of the liberation of the Auschwitz concentration camp and was the 10th joint Holocaust memorial ceremony to take place in Korea since 2017.

Felix Nussbaum was a German Jewish painter whose life was shaped by Nazi persecution. Forced first into exile and later into hiding, he documented his experiences in art that depicted his fear, isolation and despair. Nussbaum and his wife were eventually discovered in hiding and deported to Auschwitz in 1944, after which they were both murdered.

In his remarks at the memorial ceremony, German Ambassador to Korea Georg Schmidt noted that while the Holocaust's death toll of six million people "goes beyond the human imagination," the exhibition of Nussbaum's works allows visitors to "see and feel the suffering and the horror" of Nazi persecution through the eyes of an individual artist.

Schmidt also said the exhibition reflects Germany's "historical responsibility for the Holocaust," which, he added, remains "part of German identity."

The Nussbaum exhibition is being shown alongside "Auschwitz - A Place on Earth: The Auschwitz Album," an exhibition comprising visual documentation of the concentration camp, curated by Yad Vashem, Israel's national Holocaust remembrance center.

According to Schmidt, the joint exhibition in Seoul, titled "Remembering for the Future," underlines "our duty to keep the memory of the Holocaust alive, not allow any denial or distortion of the historical facts and take a firm stand against any form of antisemitism and racism."

In his speech, Israeli Ambassador to Korea Rafael Harpaz warned that "hatred toward Jews did not disappear after 1945" but instead has "persisted" and "has even been intensifying" in recent years.

He described Israel as "a shelter and homeland for a people who had learned, at the highest possible cost, what it means to be defenseless" in the wake of the Holocaust.

Harpaz also thanked Germany for its "continued friendship and support since [Israel's] independence in 1948," adding that it was "especially meaningful to gather at the National Museum of Korean Democracy, a place dedicated to the values of human dignity, freedom and responsibility."

Tuesday's ceremony was attended by Lee Jae-Oh, the president of the Korea Democracy Foundation; Choung Byoung-gug, the chair of the Arts Council Korea; representatives of the Felix Nussbaum Foundation; and members of the diplomatic corps and Jewish communities in Korea.

This article is by Choi Min-ji and read by an artificial voice.

[INTERVIEW]

Seohyun, the famed singer and actor from Girls' Generation, picked up her violin for the first time in decades after learning the instrument for four years as a child. Now five months into her re-found hobby, Seohyun is set to perform Vittorio Monti's "Csardas" (1904) with an orchestra. Celebrity privilege? She doesn't think so.

Seohyun will perform at Lotte Concert Hall on March 13 with the amateur orchestra Sol Philharmonic, marking her debut as a violinist in a public performance. News of her performance drew criticism of celebrity privilege, but Seohyun is adamant that this is an opportunity for amateur performers in classical music to show their talent.

"I hope the audience enjoys seeing the sincerity behind my efforts," Seohyun said in a written interview with the JoongAng Ilbo.

"Though classical performance and being a dance-pop singer are completely different fields, the intense preparation that goes into any performance is essentially the same," she said. "And I think I'll keep challenging myself."

The idea of joining the performance came from her teacher, violinist Kim Hyun-jung, who suggested she take part despite the technical difficulty of the piece, challenging even for seasoned amateurs. Though Seohyun hesitated at first, Kim encouraged her by saying she could help bring visibility to the spirit of amateur performances.

However, news of Seohyun's debut sparked debate online, with some criticizing her limited experience and others defending the performance as a celebration of amateur musicianship and artistic passion.

The following are edited excerpts from the written interview with Seohyun and the JoongAng Ilbo in which the singer explained her long-lost passion for the instrument, as well as her thoughts on the backlash.

Q. This is quite an unexpected move. How did you come to decide on performing?

A. Classical music was my first love. My mother ran a piano school when I was a child, and I even dreamed of becoming a pianist. In a way, I've come full circle and returned to that love.

Why classical music?

Two years ago, I watched pianist Yunchan Lim perform and was deeply moved. I bought sheet music for pieces I wanted to play and threw myself into practice — Mozart's Sonata No. 9 (1803), Beethoven's Piano Concerto No. 3 (1800), Chopin's variations on "La ci darem la mano" (1718). I'd start practicing in the morning and suddenly it would be night. I once played so much — 10 hours a day — that I developed inflammation in all 10 fingers.

How is your condition now?

I'm trying not to let passion override caution. I now set alarms to practice in 30-minute blocks with scheduled breaks. Still, I feel pain when I bend my fingers, so I use a brace on the second finger of my left hand — my own idea to minimize strain outside practice hours.

What draws you to the violin?

Honesty. The instrument is incredibly sensitive to temperature and humidity. Some days the sound feels muffled — I wonder if the instrument is feeling sad. Other days, it produces a piercing tone — and I think it must be angry. Like soothing a baby, I have to focus entirely on the instrument's condition.

Why choose such a difficult piece?

It's truly a major challenge. You can't perform this piece without courage. But if I'm going to take the stage, I want to do it with a piece I truly love.

What do you say to critics who call this celebrity privilege?

The beauty of an amateur performance is that anyone can participate if they're willing. I may not be perfect, but I'm giving my best to deliver sincerity through the performance. I think this opportunity has helped raise awareness that amateur orchestras and concerts like this even exist. If my challenge helps others feel closer to classical music, that's already meaningful.

What's your goal for the concert?

That the happiness and passion my fellow musicians and I feel through music reaches the audience. Music gives me peace mor...

This article is by Sarah Chea and read by an artificial voice.

Hyundai Motor's operating profit slipped almost 20 percent to 11.5 trillion won ($8 billion) in 2025, hit hard by U.S. tariffs, though its yearly revenue posted a new high.

Tariff costs absorbed by the automaker shaved 4.1 trillion won off Hyundai's profits last year, after 25 percent duties were imposed in April, subsequently lowered to 15 percent in November. Combining its sister company Kia, tariff payments cut 7.2 trillion won from the profits of the two largest Korean automakers.

Hyundai and Kia said that they have refused to raise prices in a bid to protect their market share, instead absorbing the full loss from the tariffs.

Hyundai's yearly operating profit fell 19.5 percent from 2024, while the operating margin fell to 6.2 percent from 8.1 percent a year earlier.

Yearly revenue hit a record high of 186.3 trillion won, up 6.3 percent on year, thanks to strong U.S. sales, especially the high-margin cars, including SUVs and Genesis models.

Net profit slid 21.7 percent to 10.4 trillion won.

"The tariff impact for 2025 is estimated at roughly 4.1 trillion won, with a similar level expected in 2026," said Lee Seung-jo, executive vice president of Hyundai's planning and finance division, during a conference call Thursday.

"In 2025, about 60 percent of the tariff burden was offset through contingency measures," Lee said. "Because our 2026 business plan was formulated based on those savings assumptions, we expect a comparable level of cost mitigation to continue into next year."

Hyundai's total global sales stood at 4.14 million units in 2025, down 0.1 percent. However, sales of eco-friendly vehicles rose 27 percent, including 275,669 EVs and 634,990 hybrid cars.

Though overseas sales dipped 0.3 percent to 3.43 million units, U.S. sales rose 1.9 percent to surpass 1 million units. It's the first time Hyundai's annual U.S. sales have exceeded 1 million.

In Korea, its sales rose 1.1 percent to 712,954 units.

Regarding the deployment timeline for the humanoid robot Atlas, Lee said the robot has already been "deployed at Hyundai's EV plant in Georgia for a proof of concept."

As for an autonomous-driving demonstration vehicle, "it remains under development and could be unveiled as early as the second half of this year," Lee added.

Hyundai Motor predicted an increasingly unpredictable business environment this year, citing slowing growth across major global markets, intensifying competition in emerging economies and heightened macroeconomic uncertainty.

The automaker has set its global wholesale sales target for the year at 4.16 million units.

It also gave details of investment plans for 2026 totalling 17.8 trillion won to strengthen its long-term competitiveness. The investment includes 7.4 trillion won in research and development, 9 trillion won in capital expenditures and 1.4 trillion won in strategic investments, with a focus on the development of eco-friendly vehicles — including hybrids and extended-range electric vehicles — as well as autonomous driving and AI.

Update, Jan. 29, 2026: More details about Hyundai's 2025 performance added.

This article is by Kwon Keun-young and read by an artificial voice.

On a quiet winter afternoon in Yongin, Gyeonggi, a legendary robot was taking its first steps again for the first time in decades. With its stiff, clunky limbs and a silver foil hat, it looked more like a relic from a sci-fi past than a glimpse of the future.

Yet, it had a message. This robot, named "Robot K-456" (1964/1996), was created by Korea's pioneering video artist Nam June Paik (1932-2006), and it had come back to life. The grand reappearance was part of a 50-minute performance held at the Nam June Paik Art Center on Wednesday, which featured acrobatic robots created by artist Kwon Byung-jun.

A robot named Nael unfurled a black fan, while the ladderlike robot GF2 bowed low in a slow, meditative gesture outside the museum. GF3 waved its arms in a dance, and 11 units of robots named Ahae tap-danced across a steel platform. As the mood reached a climax, the curtain — styled as a massive cathode-ray tube television — lifted to reveal the main act: "Robot K-456."

The human-sized robot, which stood 1.85 meters (6 feet) tall, gesturing as if in a dramatic speech, lifted its foil-like hat while a speaker in its mouth blared words from then-U.S. President John F. Kennedy's 1961 inauguration address: "Ask not what your country can do for you — ask what you can do for your country."

Kwon and two technicians hoisted the robot and carried it to the museum entrance. From there, "Robot K-456" shuffled into the outside world, scattering coffee beans and marching along to a toy trumpet — its first steps since being restored.

Paik built the bipedal, remote-controlled robot in 1964 with Japanese engineer Shuya Abe, naming it after Mozart's "Piano Concerto No. 18 in B-flat major, K. 456" (1784). For nearly two decades, "Robot K-456" accompanied Paik to exhibition openings, drawing smiles with its clunky charm.

Paik, who envisioned the "humanization of technology," once quipped: "Robots are supposed to reduce human labor, but mine increases it — just to make it move for 10 minutes, you need five technicians."

Far from the image of cutting-edge tech, "Robot K-456" was endearingly high-maintenance — and, ultimately, staged its own demise. In a 1982 retrospective at the Whitney Museum of American Art, Paik orchestrated a mock car accident outside the venue in which "Robot K-456" was "hit" by a vehicle. He later called it the "first catastrophe of the 21st century."

The original robot is now held in a German museum. The Nam June Paik Art Center acquired a 1996 reassembly and, thanks to circuit diagrams donated by Abe, revived it for performance. Korean media art group SILO Lab restored the circuitry and Kwon incorporated it into a new multimedia piece, titled "Ghost Theatre X Robot K-456: The Circuit Turned Back On." Designed to perform alongside people, "Robot K-456" now shares the stage with 14 other robots — something even Paik likely never imagined when he created it 62 years ago.

"This is both K-456's first step and its first meeting with new friends," Kwon said during a rehearsal on Tuesday. A former rock band vocalist, Kwon studied electronic music and media art in the Netherlands and won the National Museum of Modern and Contemporary Art's Korea Artist Prize 2023.

Unlike humanoid robots like Hyundai Motor's Atlas — designed for industrial use — Kwon's creations, much like Paik's, are not meant to work.

"Robots that can perform tasks like humans are for engineers," said Kwon, who calls himself "Nam June Paik's kid." "My robots aren't meant for working. They're fragile and awkward, but people seem to recognize a sense of humanity in their shaky, rough movements."

Although we have yet to see robots casually roaming city streets and getting into accidents — a future Paik once imagined — we now live in a time when entire generations are forming emotional bonds with robots and AI.

Born in Seoul in 1932, during the 1910-45 period of Japanese colonial rule, Paik was t...

This article is by Na Sang-hyeon and read by an artificial voice.

Japanese automakers are steadily losing their once-dominant grip on Korea's imported car market. Their long reliance on hybrids, thin electric-vehicle lineups and lingering consumer resentment from a past boycott have left them squeezed by both Korean premium brands and Tesla. A renewed global shift toward hybrids, however, could offer Toyota and Lexus a narrow opening in 2026.

A 42-year-old office worker surnamed Han recently traded in his Nissan Altima, a midsize sedan, for a Tesla. He had chosen a Japanese car for its reliability and value for money compared to Korean rivals, but decided on Tesla as the lineup of both Korean and imported models has expanded.

Han's decision was also shaped by an earlier incident during the boycott of Japanese products, when someone punctured his tires in an act of vandalism. Nissan has since exited the Korean market. "I wanted to try an electric vehicle, but among Japanese brands there was practically no EV option — that was decisive," Han said.

Japanese cars, once so popular in Seoul's affluent Gangnam district that they earned the nickname "Gangnam Sonata," have steadily lost ground. According to the Korea Automobile Importers and Distributors Association, Japanese brands accounted for 8.66 percent of newly-registered imported passenger cars in 2025. That was down from 9.95 percent a year earlier.

Compared to 2008 — the height of Japan's auto import boom in Korea, when its share stood at 35.54 percent — the figure has shrunk to about one-quarter. Back then, Japanese brands ranked second after Germany among imports. However, by 2025, they were trailing not only German brands but also U.S. brands, led by Tesla.

In unit terms, Japanese brands sold 26,606 vehicles in 2025, up 1.6 percent from 2024, helped by strong sales of Lexus' ES 300h hybrid sedan. But their market share has slipped as rival countries' brands have quickly grown: Germany was up 3.9 percent, the United States 67.4 percent, Sweden 12.7 percent and Britain 9 percent. Overall imported passenger-car sales rose 16.7 percent in 2025.

The reasons are complex. One factor is that Japanese automakers, long-focused on hybrids, missed the timing of the market shift to full electrification, limiting consumer choice. Japanese battery-electric vehicles sold 68 units in Korea in 2024, but recorded zero sales in 2025. Hybrids, meanwhile, made up 97 percent of Japanese-brand sales.

"Amid the push for environmentally friendly vehicles, Japan neglected EV production and development," said Lee Ho-geun, an automotive engineering professor at Daedeok University. "Meanwhile, Korean premium brands such as Genesis have replaced demand that once went to Japanese cars, and Tesla has been aggressively expanding its sales efforts in the imported car market, further narrowing Japan's foothold."

Lingering fallout from the 2019 boycott of Japanese products during the Moon Jae-in administration has also weighed on sentiment. Japanese brands' market share was 14.98 percent in 2019, but was nearly cut in half to 7.48 percent in 2020 right after the boycott began. It fell further to 5.99 percent in 2022, then recovered slightly on the back of Lexus — but has yet to climb back above 10 percent.

An industry official said consumer trust was also hurt by the way some brands — including Subaru, Mitsubishi and Nissan — opted to pull out quickly rather than step up marketing or investment when sales faltered.

Still, some see opportunity as hybrids regain traction while demand for EVs slows. In 2025, one out of every three new cars sold in Korea was a hybrid.

Toyota Korea is expanding its lineup, officially launching the 2026 Alphard Hybrid Premium family minivan in the local market.

"With the EV demand slowdown dragging on, mild hybrids — which use an electric motor only to assist the engine and cannot run on electric power alone — tend to be less competitive on fuel economy, especially in Europe a...

This article is by Jin Eun-soo and read by an artificial voice.

[ABOUT TOWN]: Yeouido

Seoul is often viewed as a modern, trendy metropolis filled with high-rise buildings, bright billboards and zooming subways. But behind its stylish facade is a more down-to-earth, people's place that goes less noticed. Depending on the part of the city, busy-working locals find solace and joy in sizzling pork belly in an intimate barbecue restaurant, soju shots under a tent, coffee on the roof of a decades-old building and walks along the city's hidden trails. Each dong, or neighborhood, has its own unique history and remnants of the past, making Seoul a checkerboard of cultures and atmospheres.

In this series, the Korea JoongAng Daily examines both the past and present of Seoul's neighborhoods, offering recommendations on how to spend a day there like a local, including what to see and where to eat.

True to its name, Yeouido has long felt like an isolated enclave in the heart of Seoul.

The "do" in Yeouido means "island" in Korean, and the district is technically surrounded by the Han River and a narrow creek.

But Yeouido's sense of isolation doesn't only come from its geography.

Historically a hub for finance and politics, Yeouido has long been dismissed as a sterile office town lacking in leisure and culture. It used to be called a "ghost town" as the neighborhood mostly emptied on weekends.

That reputation, however, is increasingly fading thanks to recent openings of big shopping malls, five-star hotels and premium officetels, attracting Gen Z visitors and foreign tourists. The district has now become home to some of Seoul's most unique pop-ups, diverse shopping options and a growing list of feel-good diners and bars.

Add to that a row of storied baekban (Korean home-style meal) joints tucked into the basement floors of aging commercial buildings, and Yeouido starts to feel less like an island and more like a destination worth exploring.

Long before Yeouido became the office-heavy town it is today, it served as an airport during the colonial period (1910-1945) to facilitate the transportation of Japanese people and supplies. After liberation, the airport was repurposed by the U.S. Air Force.

Going into the 1960s, when Korea underwent a rapid economic growth, Yeouido was earmarked by the government for massive development. It became home to Korea's first high-rise apartment complex, as well as the National Assembly and a cluster of financial companies. The area quickly became one of Seoul's most affluent.

But its prosperity was short-lived. During the Asian financial crisis, a wave of financial companies shuttered, and the district's floating population quickly faded. That was when it earned its nickname of "ghost town" as most restaurants and shops shuttered on weekends — typically the busiest time for eateries elsewhere.

A revival began in the 2010s with the opening of major retail hubs, such as IFC Mall and The Hyundai Seoul. These sprawling complexes offered everything from viral pop-up shops to luxury brands and trendy dining options, drawing newcomers back to the area.

Foreign tourists were among the first to catch on to the shift. Their spending in the Yeouido area rose by 479 percent in 2024 compared to 2019, before the pandemic, according to BC Card data. That was the second steepest rise among all neighborhoods in Seoul during the cited period, after Seongsu-dong in eastern Seoul.

"Locals" in this area are white-collar workers who have approximately an hour — sometimes less — to fill their stomachs, catch up with friends and get caffeinated.

One of the best places to experience the neighborhood's fast-paced energy is the Manhattan Building, formerly known as Yeouido Department Store, which stands at the center of the financial district of eastern Yeouido. Its basement floor is packed with cramped diners in a maze of corridors.

Dried pollock hangover soup at Won Haejangguk costs 7,000 won, a pretty reasonable price, and pai...

This article is by Michael Lee and read by an artificial voice.

[EXPLAINER]

Six years after it first attracted national attention for its role in Korea's initial mass outbreak of Covid-19, the secretive Shincheonji religious movement has come under renewed focus for allegedly helping to propel former President Yoon Suk Yeol to power.

Ongoing probes into Yoon's administration have uncovered evidence that the group, formally known as the Shincheonji Church of Jesus, mobilized its members to influence the conservative People Power Party's (PPP) presidential primaries ahead of the 2022 election.

While Shincheonji denies these claims, the accusations have stirred public anxiety about the organization's reach beyond religion.

The latest controversy follows years of public misgivings regarding Shincheonji, whose reputation was severely damaged during the early months of the pandemic.

That episode hardened perceptions that the group — long characterized by critics as a cult — was resistant to outside scrutiny even during a public health crisis, though courts later dismissed some criminal charges against its leaders related to their lack of cooperation with epidemiological investigations.

As investigators probe Shincheonji's alleged political activities, the group once again finds itself at the center of a broader national debate over how a democratic society committed to freedom of religion should respond to religious organizations accused of deception, social harm and covert political influence.

What are the latest allegations?

The latest controversy centers on claims that Shincheonji members were encouraged to join the PPP in large numbers during the party's 2021 presidential primaries, which Yoon ultimately won.

The allegations are based in part on statements by former Daegu Mayor Hong Joon-pyo and testimony from former Shincheonji insiders who say the effort was coordinated.

According to these accounts, members were urged to sign up for PPP membership to block other presidential hopefuls seen as hostile to Shincheonji, including current President Lee Jae Myung, who at the time was a prominent figure in the liberal Democratic Party.

The insider, who has remained unnamed in domestic media reports, told investigators that Shincheonji's leadership decided to push members to support Yoon "to repay him for blocking raids into the group's facilities on two occasions" during his tenure as prosecutor general.

Earlier this month, Hong claimed the PPP saw a influx of approximately 190,000 new members in the months leading up to the primaries in November. He further estimated that 100,000 of these new party members were affiliated with Shincheonji.

A photograph of Yoon meeting the head of an association with ties to Shincheonji in January 2022, which resurfaced recently, has further fueled suspicions of improper political meddling by the group.

Shincheonji, for its part, has categorically denied directing members to engage in organized political action, stating that it does not support any political party and that its followers act independently as voters.

While Korean law places no restrictions on individual political participation by religious believers, religious organizations risk violating election laws if they encourage members to vote for a specific candidate or party.

Article 85 of the Public Official Election Act stipulates that no person may engage in political activities targeting members of an educational, religious or professional organization by taking advantage of their position within the group.

The ongoing controversy has raised concerns about whether secretive religious movements can exert influence within democratic institutions without public visibility.

Why is the group seen as a cult?

Founded in the 1980s, Shincheonji identifies itself as a Christian church, but its teachings sharply diverge from those of mainstream Protestant and Catholic denominations. The group's name, which in Korean means "new heaven and new ...

This article is by Sarah Chea and read by an artificial voice.

[EXPLAINER]

Hyundai Motor Group has effectively been roped into a Korean bid for a 60 trillion won ($42 billion) Canadian naval submarine project at a time when the automaker is already burdened by a string of massive, ongoing investments in the United States.

Ottawa's addition of offset obligations — a trade element under which a winning bidder is expected to offer industrial benefits — in search of an auto factory is, by most accounts, unrealistic for Hyundai given the company's current capacity constraints and financial commitments, reaching into the billions of dollars.

Euisun Chung, Hyundai Motor Group chair, recently joined a Korean delegation to Canada in support of Seoul's bid to win a submarine contract, while on the very same day, U.S. President Donald Trump hiked tariffs on Korean cars from 15 percent to 25 percent, a move expected to cost Hyundai at least 4 trillion won annually in additional expenses.

What, exactly, is at stake?

Korea is competing as a bidder in Canada's project to replace its aging Victoria-class submarines, proposing the delivery of up to 12 diesel-powered, 3,000-ton submarines. As part of the bid's industrial offset requirements, the Canadian government has pushed Hyundai to set up an automobile manufacturing plant in the country.

While contributions from Korea's shipbuilders Hanwha Ocean and HD Hyundai were expected, Germany's aggressive participation intensified the competition, effectively forcing Hyundai into the process unexpectedly. As a strategic, state-level initiative, Hyundai is also under pressure by Seoul to assist, seeing the automaker as a winning bargaining chip to secure the contract.

Car manufacturing remains one of the most effective engines of job creation and domestic parts production, a fact not lost on politicians. It is also why Trump has long treated auto plants as geopolitical trophies.

Canada extended a similar demand to Germany, currently the most formidable rival to Korea in the procurement process, and the European country has already moved aggressively. Backed by Volkswagen and Mercedes-Benz, Berlin has proposed — and begun executing — a vertically integrated supply chain in Canada spanning mining, batteries and finished vehicles. PowerCo, a Volkswagen Group subsidiary, broke ground in June on a $7 billion EV battery plant in Ontario, the largest single investment in Canadian history.

Why can't Hyundai afford a factory in Canada?

From Hyundai's perspective, the economics are unforgiving.

Hyundai and Kia sold roughly 260,000 cars in Canada last year, translating into a market share of just 13.7 percent — hardly enough to justify a large-scale production facility.

Canada is the eighth-largest market for Hyundai in terms of sales, while the United States remains its top-selling market, claiming more than half of all sales for the automaker.

Any Canadian plant would inevitably rely on exports to the United States or Mexico, yet trade relations between Washington and Ottawa have grown increasingly volatile.

Currently, Canadian-made vehicles exported to the United States are subject to a 25 percent tariff. Furthermore, the Trump administration recently warned that if Canada proceeds with new export agreements involving China, U.S. tariffs on Canadian imports could soar to 100 percent.

In 1989, Hyundai opened a plant in Quebec with an annual capacity of 100,000 vehicles, but closed it down only four years later amid weak U.S. sales and parts supply issues that led to low productivity.

"Building a new plant in Canada is effectively an impossible option for Hyundai, considering slowing EV demand and an ongoing tariff tussle between Canada and the United States," said Kim Pil-soo, a professor of automotive engineering at Daelim University College. "Canada is using this as leverage — an excuse to gain an auto plant and revive its manufacturing base."

Instead, Hyundai is expected to limit its contribution to ...

The author is a principal researcher at the Korea Astronomy and Space Science Institute.

"Steve Austin, former astronaut. A man barely alive. Gentlemen, we can rebuild him. We have the technology. We can make him better than he was before." After a catastrophic test flight accident, Steve Austin loses his left eye, right arm and both legs. Engineers give him a zoom lens eye, legs that can run at 60 miles an hour and a right arm stronger than a bulldozer. Thus is born "The Six Million Dollar Man" (1973).

This science fiction series, broadcast in Korea for two years beginning in 1976 on Tongyang Broadcasting Company, or TBC, one of Korea's leading private television networks in the 1970s, set children's hearts racing. News reports occasionally followed of youngsters injured after jumping off walls while mimicking the hero. I was one of them. In the show, Austin's superior, Director Oscar Goldman, serves as a command figure who shuttles between the White House and Congress to secure operational approval and funding.

Indulging that memory and turning to the United States research and development system, the image comes into sharp focus. When federal agencies submit budget proposals, the White House Office of Science and Technology Policy and the Office of Management and Budget reconcile them according to policy priorities and guidance before sending them to the U.S. Congress. Decades of accumulated experience come to bear as Ph.D.-level program examiners, with careers spanning agencies, ministries and fields, review proposals across institutional boundaries. The future landscape embedded in such research and development (R&D) strategies is bound to be precise.

Someone like me would never personally visit budget authorities. Yet I recently heard a sobering story. In the past, a single junior official on a roughly one-year rotation reportedly shouldered the practical task of coordinating budgets for 51 government-funded research institutes across the sciences and humanities. It makes one wonder whether this could really happen in a country that competes for first place in R&D investment as a share of GDP. Of course, that official relied on collective intelligence and expert judgment.

The era of bulldozer-style, superhuman devotion is supposedly behind us. Still, on the ground, people are worn down by regulation and frequent evaluations. Strategies may change, but the underlying philosophy must stand firm. There is a need to rebuild outdated systems and overhaul the operating framework. It may be time to return to first principles and reconsider the command tower.

This article was originally written in Korean and translated by a bilingual reporter with the help of generative AI tools. It was then edited by a native English-speaking editor. All AI-assisted translations are reviewed and refined by our newsroom.

The author is an editorial writer at the JoongAng Ilbo.

At the Munich Security Conference in February 2025, U.S. Vice President JD Vance declared the launch of the second Trump administration with a blunt phrase: "There's a new sheriff in town." From that moment, he said, Europe and the rest of the world would have to adapt to a new America led by President Donald Trump. A year later, the remark no longer sounds rhetorical. The world is now struggling to adjust to a fundamentally different United States. An American-centered international order that has endured for eight decades since World War II is visibly unraveling.

Europe's NATO alliance is, quite literally, a candle in the wind. Trump has openly sided with Russia, Europe's adversary, pressing for an end to the war in Ukraine on terms favorable to Moscow. He has urged Kyiv to concede territory and demanded that Europe assume full responsibility for its own security. Faced with pressure far harsher than anything seen during Trump's first term, European governments reluctantly pledged $600 billion in investment in the United States and committed to raising defense spending to 5 percent of GDP. Yet that was not the end of it. When Trump went so far as to invoke the possibility of military action while threatening Denmark to hand over Greenland, Europe finally awoke to a sobering reality. The United States, still wearing the face of a friend, now revealed itself as a "frenemy," a partner that could turn adversarial at any moment.

Allies in Asia found the experience no less exhausting. They were spared the open scorn and humiliation directed at Europe largely because Washington needed their cooperation to counter China, America's primary rival. Even so, they faced reciprocal tariffs, unilateral demands for U.S.-bound investment, pressure to increase defense spending and a hegemon's capricious insistence that regional security threats, including North Korea's nuclear program, be handled on their own. Korea and Japan avoided Trump's wrath through careful deference and calibrated praise. Japanese Prime Minister Sanae Takaichi went so far as to nominate Trump for the Nobel Peace Prize, while President Lee Jae Myung described him as the only "peacemaker" capable of delivering peace on the Korean Peninsula. Korea was subsequently awarded the label of a "model ally." The restoration of Shuttle diplomacy between Seoul and Tokyo reflected a sense of inevitable solidarity between leaders worn down by Washington's unpredictability.

Europe's NATO members, Asian allies and even Canada in North America have spent the past year reeling. All had long depended on access to the vast U.S. market and on the advanced security system Washington provided after World War II. Now, with no clear alternative in sight, they are bracing themselves and attempting to endure the remaining three years of Trump's term.

Still, tentative efforts to survive within the new order Trump has imposed are beginning to emerge. What exists so far is little more than solidarity born of shared hardship, but U.S. allies are starting to strengthen ties with one another, as Korea and Japan have done. During a recent visit to Japan, President Lee signaled Korea's intention to join the Comprehensive and Progressive Agreement for Trans-Pacific Partnership (CPTPP). The CPTPP was formed by remaining members, including Australia, Canada and Japan, after the United States withdrew from the original Trans-Pacific Partnership during Trump's first term. With Britain's accession in 2024, the bloc now comprises 12 economies accounting for roughly 15 percent of global GDP.

Another sensitive shift is taking place in relations with China. Beijing has become unusually busy. Since French President Emmanuel Macron's visit last December, leaders from Korea, Ireland, Canada and Finland traveled to China in January alone. Visits by British Prime Minister Keir Starmer and German Chancellor Friedrich Merz are scheduled. While U.S. allies are ...