Korea JoongAng Daily - Daily News from Korea

This article is by Park Eun-jee and read by an artificial voice.

[MONEY MOVER]

Capital moves in and out of Korea, driven by a range of economic and geopoltiical forces. In our "Money Mover" series, we explore key market developments that could shape investment decisions and influence the flow of global funds. — ED.

Korea has long been considered an isolated market in the world of digital assets, with an absence of a legal framework effectively blocking tokenized securities, crypto-based investment products and stablecoin transactions. That environment pushed local asset managers and brokerages to hunker down while their counterparts in the United States, Japan, and Australia raced to roll out new products.

But in Korea's conservative financial world, there was one maverick: Mirae Asset. Under the leadership of billionaire businessman Park Hyeon-joo, the financial group built a reputation for bold plays in overseas expansion and product development.

With 510 trillion won ($348 billion) in assets under management — nearly half of which comes from abroad — Mirae Asset Global Investments opted to operate crypto-based products like Bitcoin ETFs abroad in the face of regulatory constraints at home. Mirae Asset Securities, a brokerage affiliate, has established a blockchain-based system for trading tokenized securities and developed an integrated digital wallet that can cover both tokenized and legacy equity and fund assets. The two financial firms' crypto-related activities date back to 2021 with the establishment of a dedicated task force. More recently, the Mirae group has explored the acquisition of Korbit, the country's fourth-largest crypto exchange.

Now that the Korean government aims to enact a comprehensive regulatory framework, tentatively dubbed the Digital Asset Basic Act, within the first quarter, and with legal amendments to authorize the issuance of tokenized securities already passed this month, the group is set to leverage its expertise and considerable influence in the domestic market.

The Korea JoongAng Daily sat down with Park Goobin, head of the Investment & Product Division at Mirae Asset Global Investments, and Lee Yong-jae, head of the Digital Asset Business Department at Mirae Asset Securities, to discuss the group's strategy for digital assets and their takeaways on the shifting regulatory environment.

Below are edited excerpts from the interview, edited for length and clarity.

Q. The government plans to pass the Digital Asset Basic Act in the first quarter. How does the regulatory timeline affect Mirae Asset's decision to release products?

A. Park: The government is prioritizing the passage of the Digital Asset Basic Act ahead of the June local elections. The bill is expected to pass as early as the first quarter, or by the second quarter at the latest. Even if the act passes in the first quarter, however, it will likely take some time to revise related laws such as Capital Markets Act and Income Tax Act. As a result, the actual rollout of digital asset products [from Mirae Asset Global Investments] could take place in the second half of 2026 at the earliest.

Major asset management firms, including Mirae Asset Global Investments, have already set sail with preparatory work for product designs based on that scenario. With the groundwork already in place, the market is likely to see digital asset products launched in Korea as soon as the legal infrastructure is finalized.

Lee: We are building a digital wallet designed to work both in Korea and globally and hold both traditional and digital assets. But due to regulatory limitations, we can't release the full-fledged version right away. The initial rollout, scheduled for June, will only include features that meet existing domestic regulatory requirements, with additional functionality to follow in later phases. The end goal is a future where users can manage various types of assets, including tokenized stocks, funds and digital currencies, all in one wal...

Kim Bong-ryeol

The author is an architect and a former president of the Korea National University of Arts.

I encountered the ancient city of Palmyra in the heart of the Syrian desert. A wadi once flowed here and springs sustained oasis agriculture, earning it the name "the city of palms." During the first century Pax Romana, Palmyra flourished as a hub of inland trade, and in the third century Queen Zenobia even proclaimed the Palmyrene Empire. When the ruins of the city center were rediscovered, they reshaped paradigms of European urban planning in the seventeenth century.

From before the Common Era, Palmyra developed as a distinctive city rooted in local religious traditions and caravan trade, and it was rebuilt on a grand scale in the third century. At its core lay a monumental colonnaded avenue stretching 1.1 kilometers. Along an 11-meter-wide road rose more than 500 columns, each about nine meters high, forming an imposing processional way. Beginning at a triumphal arch, the avenue bent slightly at a point marked by four tetrapylons and ended at the funerary temple.

In front of the arch stood the vast Temple of Bel, dedicated to the city's protective deity. The boulevard was lined with public buildings such as a theater and great baths, as well as temples to Nebo, Baalshamin, Baal-Hammon and Allat. These were all local Middle Eastern gods, and after conversion to Christianity in the fourth century, small Byzantine churches were also built.

A large portion of the city center was occupied by the agora. Despite the familiar name, it was not an open Greek-style market but more akin to a caravansary for merchants. Sculptures of prominent citizens were placed on some 200 columns, making it a civic hall of memory. Outside the city walls, more than 50 tower tombs were scattered over a kilometer, forming a valley of the dead. Together, these remains attest to a self-governing city that existed under Roman rule.

Although Roman construction techniques were used, the functions and decorative methods of the buildings were thoroughly local. The Temple of Bel, with its Mesopotamian-style enclosure walls and Roman colonnades, exemplified this fusion. Palmyra stood at the crossroads of Mesopotamian, Roman, Persian and Byzantine civilizations. In 2015, Islamic State destroyed major monuments, including the Temple of Bel, under the pretext of iconoclasm. Scholars worldwide are pursuing digital reconstruction, but many irreplaceable ruins remain unrestored. The loss underscores how fragile cultural heritage becomes amid prolonged conflict and political paralysis, leaving future generations with fragments, images and questions rather than a living landscape of history and memory.

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 a professor at the Graduate School of International and Area Studies at Hankuk University of Foreign Studies and a member of the Japan-Korea Relations Division at Reset Korea.

China's recent move to tighten export controls on dual-use items with both civilian and military applications, clearly targeting Japan, is a warning shot aimed at the global supply chain. The analysis that Beijing has begun to turn the "rare earths valve" in response to the rightward tilt of the Sanae Takaichi-led political camp and Japan's involvement in the Taiwan issue is a source of deep anxiety for Korea's industrial sector as well. Rare earth dependence on China is often attributed to environmental regulations, but behind that explanation lies a meticulously engineered supply chain design that the West cannot replicate in the short term.

The first barrier most often cited is environmental pollution. The refining and smelting of rare earths inevitably generates radioactive elements such as thorium and uranium. Processing them requires large quantities of highly acidic chemicals, and managing the resulting radioactive waste in line with legal standards entails astronomical costs. The environmental controversy surrounding the refining plant operated in Malaysia by the Australian company Lynas showed that, regardless of technical safety, social acceptance and regulatory risk can determine the fate of a project. In this context, building rare earth refining facilities in advanced economies is blocked by the high threshold of ESG standards. China has spent decades bearing these environmental burdens while positioning itself as the world's outsourced rare earths factory, securing a monopolistic position that no competitor can challenge on price.

More formidable than environmental issues, however, is China's technological dominance. Rare earths consist of 17 elements with extremely similar chemical properties, making high-purity separation extraordinarily difficult. This is where the "serial extraction theory" developed by Professor Xu Guangxian, often called the father of China's rare earth industry, comes into play. By modeling complex separation processes with mathematical precision, he laid the theoretical foundation for industrial-scale mass separation. While the United States and Europe can achieve high-purity extraction in laboratory settings, experts widely agree that there remains a substantial gap in the processing know-how required to realize low-cost, high-efficiency separation at industrial scale. Securing mines alone is not enough. The accumulated process recipes refined through tens of thousands of trials are effectively held in China's hands.

The most decisive difference lies in vertically integrated manufacturing. Because all 17 rare earth elements are produced together, selecting only high-demand materials such as neodymium or dysprosium and discarding the rest drives overall production costs sharply higher. This is where China's economies of scale come into their own. Refining facilities sit alongside magnet plants, battery factories and petrochemical complexes. Lower-value elements such as lanthanum and cerium are absorbed in large volumes as glass polishing agents or materials for fine dust reduction systems. Even thorium, a problematic radioactive by-product, is being tested for potential use through experiments related to next-generation thorium molten salt reactors. By creating a circular structure that turns waste into energy assets, China has achieved price competitiveness that no other country can match. That China accounts for 90 percent of global production of rare earth permanent magnets is no coincidence.

Japan plans to begin exploratory drilling for rare earths this year in the seabed around Minami-Torishima, but economic feasibility remains questionable given the costs of dredging mud from depths of 6,000 meters. Even if Japan succeeds in securing raw materials, it would face a paradox. Without an ecosy...

The author is an editorial writer at the JoongAng Ilbo.

Which role is harder and more consequential: that of a ruler like Taizong, the second emperor of China's Tang Dynasty (618–907), who listened to uncomfortable truths, or that of a court official like Wei Zheng, who served Taizong and became renowned for repeatedly offering blunt and often perilous remonstrations at the risk of his own life? The question resurfaced while watching the shocking courtroom scene in which former Prime Minister Han Duck-soo, appointed twice under both progressive and conservative administrations, was sentenced to 23 years in prison and taken into custody.

Han's resume was impeccable. He graduated at the top of his class from Seoul National University's College of Economics, earned master's and doctoral degrees from Harvard University, passed the civil service exam at 21 and spent more than five decades climbing the ranks of public office. By reputation, he was capable and seasoned. Yet, on the night of Dec. 3, 2024, he failed to stop President Yoon Suk Yeol from declaring martial law. Even if he could not risk his life, why did he not at least slam on the brakes with the resolve to resign as prime minister? A senior figure who knew Han well offered a bleak assessment, saying that under Korea's imperial presidency, "a truly courageous official would never make it that far in the first place."

During conservative administrations, Han rarely emphasized his Honam roots and advanced steadily on the strength of his competence. When the Kim Dae-jung government ushered in the first transfer of power between the Yeongnam and Honam political camps, he openly acknowledged his regional background and became the subject of gossip. From there, his career under progressive governments moved smoothly, taking him to posts such as trade minister, deputy prime minister for the economy and eventually prime minister.

Han has argued that he had no prior knowledge of the martial law plan. Still, he was detained on allegations as grave as being a "key participant in an insurrection supporting a praetorian coup." With that, political fortune that once seemed endless came to a halt. There were several moments when he could have avoided this fate. Had he declined the prime minister role when it was offered by the Yoon administration, or resigned decisively after the ruling People Power Party's crushing defeat in the April 10, 2024, general election, he would not have been swept into the Dec. 3 crisis. At the very least, had he said "this must not be done" during or around the Cabinet meeting on the night martial law was declared, his situation today would likely be different.

Watching the downfall of a man once known as a master of survival underscores again how heavy and precarious the prime minister's seat is under Korea's presidential system.

It also raises questions about how different the role of prime minister may be now and in the years ahead. Figures in the ruling camp who have observed Kim Min-seok, the first prime minister under President Lee Jae Myung and the self-styled "prime minister who opens the dawn," offer near-uniform praise. Compliments circulate that Kim "handles himself well in front of the president," meaning that he lowers his profile as the No. 2 figure at Cabinet meetings and deftly supports Lee. Kim has frequently spoken in glowing terms about the president. At a policy briefing in Muan, South Jeolla, last December, he said that before the election, people complained that "five years of the Yoon administration felt too long," whereas now some say "five years of the Lee administration feels too short and wish it would last longer." He even described the president's livestreamed policy briefings as "more entertaining than Netflix," dubbing them "Jamflix."

What remains unclear is how candid Kim is behind the scenes when advising the president on difficult realities such as housing and exchange rates. It is also an open question whether he acc...

The author is a senior columnist at the JoongAng Ilbo.

The prosecution's demand for the death penalty for former president Yoon Suk Yeol and the 23-year prison sentence handed to former prime minister Han Duck-soo amount to a call for a sweeping overhaul of conservative politics in Korea. Yet the level of reflection shown by the leader of the People Power Party (PPP), who has said only that "the declaration of martial law was an inappropriate measure for the situation," falls far short of what would be needed to revive a political tradition that has effectively been pronounced dead. It is a grim spectacle. There is little sign of searing repentance or firm resolve.

The most incisive critique of conservative politics has instead come from within conservative thought itself, notably from former professor Park Hyo-jong. He once identified five cardinal sins of conservatism: the sin of failing to foresee the future, the sin of merely preserving without cultivating, the sin of indulging in self-fulfillment without achieving self-transcendence, the sin of failing to give and the sin of abusing privilege. The culmination of all these failings was the collapse of generational renewal.

Reduced to a party without even a credible presidential candidate of its own, conservatives installed the largely unfamiliar mercenary Yoon Suk Yeol and have paid a heavy price. Their frantic maneuvers, flirting with figures such as Kim Moon-soo outside the party and even attempting to draft Han Duck-soo in a mirage of regaining power, ended in abject failure. It was retribution. Without people, how can any ideology or party hope to survive?

Ironically, the period of most vigorous generational turnover came a generation earlier, during the era of the so-called three Kims. President Kim Young-sam, in his sixties, recruited reform-minded figures in their thirties and forties such as Lee In-je, Kim Moon-soo, Sohn Hak-kyu, Hong Joon-pyo and Oh Se-hoon, sustaining the conservative lineage to this day. President Kim Dae-Jung likewise began, while still in opposition, to cultivate younger politicians in their twenties and thirties, including Kim Min-seok, Lee In-young, Woo Sang-ho and Im Jong-seok, who later became central figures of progressive politics, with Kim Min-seok serving as prime minister and Woo as senior secretary for political affairs.

The famous call for leadership in one's forties was rooted in the lived insight of these two Kims. When Kim Young-sam and Kim Dae-Jung declared their presidential bids in 1969 at ages 41 and 45, they argued that power transfer had failed because aging opposition leaders could not match a youthful military regime, urging a dynamic younger generation to step forward. Though party leader Yu Jin-san dismissed them as political minors, they drew explosive support from a public frustrated by constitutional manipulation. At the time, only 22.62 percent of Koreans were over 50, compared to 45.67 percent today. Targeting even President Park Chung Hee, then 54, their wager was generational change.

Since then, generational renewal has consistently separated success from failure in Korean politics. Progressives succeeded by continuously nurturing younger cohorts through the Roh Moo-hyun and Moon Jae-in administrations, guiding them from aideships and local councils to provincial posts and the National Assembly. It was European-style politics rooted in the field. Even after setbacks, politicians remained engaged, accumulating experience. President Lee Jae Myung is a prime example. Conservatives, by contrast, relied on top-down selection of older elites from the legal profession and bureaucracy, protecting vested interests and creating a generational chasm.

The result is stark. In the Democratic Party, there are 81 lawmakers born in the 1970s, 23 from the 1980s and even two from the 1990s, a sweeping generational turnover accounting for 64 percent of party seats. In the People Power Party, however, only 38 lawmakers total, o...

The Trump administration's second-term National Defense Strategy (NDS), titled the "2026 Defense Strategy," was released on Friday. The document stresses a sharper focus on defending the U.S. homeland and calls on allies to shoulder greater security responsibilities. It even states that the United States will not fill security gaps caused by what it describes as irresponsible choices by allied leaders. The message reflects an expanded "America First" approach in defense policy. For allies such as Korea, this shift is likely to increase strategic and financial burdens, making careful preparation essential.

For Korea, one omission in the new strategy is particularly concerning. While it acknowledges that North Korea's nuclear capabilities continue to advance, the document makes no mention of denuclearization. This follows a similar omission in the National Security Strategy (NSS) released late last year. The absence of denuclearization language in both documents suggests more than a change in wording, and raises questions about whether Washington's policy stance is evolving.

U.S. President Donald Trump's own remarks have fueled such concerns. Since taking office last January, he has repeatedly referred to North Korea as a nuclear power, language that appears to recognize Pyongyang's nuclear status. During his visit to Korea in October, he proposed another meeting with Kim Jong-un and hinted at the possibility of easing sanctions. Against this backdrop, doubts have grown, as noted recently in a Washington Post editorial, that denuclearization of the Korean Peninsula may no longer be a priority for Washington and that the United States could be moving toward tacit acceptance of North Korea's nuclear arsenal.

This uncertainty is compounded by the interaction between the new U.S. defense strategy and the Lee Jae Myung government's approach to the North Korean nuclear issue. President Lee has emphasized pragmatic realism and proposed a three-stage framework of freeze, arms reduction and eventual denuclearization. While denuclearization remains the stated final goal, the inclusion of arms reduction talks as an intermediate step could provide Pyongyang with leverage to press its longstanding claim that it should be treated as a nuclear weapons state. North Korea has argued that arms control talks should be conducted only among nuclear powers, a framework that would marginalize nonnuclear Korea.

The issue gains urgency with the visit to Korea by Elbridge Colby, the U.S. undersecretary of war for policy and a key architect of both the NSS and NDS. He is expected to stress U.S. priorities such as homeland defense and countering China, issues linked to debates over the role of U.S. Forces Korea and the transfer of wartime operational control.

The government should seek clarity on what a defense strategy without denuclearization implies and press Washington to maintain coordination on the principle of North Korea's denuclearization. It should also use the opportunity to secure stronger U.S. support for bolstering Korea's own defense capabilities.

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.

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

[NEWS ANALYSIS]

While Hyundai Motor has been enjoying a surge in its market valuation since the unveiling of its Atlas humanoid robot, the Korean automaker is facing a big yet expected obstacle: a hard-line labor union.

With the union's declaration that "not a single Atlas robot will be permitted onto the factory floor," this could potentially stall the company's growth at a time when market rivals such as Tesla are rapidly training their humanoids to deploy them in real-world fields to win the physical AI race.

The Hyundai Motor chapter of the Korean Metal Workers' Union issued a newsletter on Thursday rejecting the introduction of AI-powered robots. The union said that such a move would become a "convenient justification for a profit-seeking company" to not hire actual humans and that a "unilateral push without labor-management consensus will never be tolerated."

Atlas, developed by Hyundai-backed Boston Dynamics and unveiled at CES 2026 in Las Vegas earlier this month, will be deployed at Hyundai's Georgia plant beginning in 2028. The group also hinted at a wider deployment through its plan to open a robot factory with an annual capacity of 30,000 units in the United States.

Hyundai's shares skyrocketed from 308,500 won ($210) on Jan. 6, ahead of CES 2026, to 510,000 as of Friday, a gain of roughly 65 percent in about two weeks.

Hyundai's dilemma lies in the fact that rivals, including Tesla and Figure AI, are surging ahead, advancing humanoid technology and formalizing commercialization strategies, while it grapples with union-imposed hurdles, effectively widening the gap in the global humanoid arena.

Tesla, in particular, has already deployed its in-house humanoid robot, Optimus, on a trial basis for logistics operations at its Texas factory. The EV giant is also building a dedicated Optimus production line in Texas, with a target capacity of 1 million units annually, and plans to begin mass production this year.

Unlike its peers, Tesla has no company-wide labor union, which allows CEO Elon Musk to pursue an aggressive rollout of humanoid robots without the need for labor-management negotiations.

In Europe, even companies with strong labor unions have not faced significant obstacles from them when stationing humanoid robots on the factory floor.

Figure AI's humanoid robot, Figure 02, was deployed at BMW's Spartanburg plant in South Carolina, where it operated for 11 months and contributed to the production of 30,000 BMW X3 vehicles.

The robot reportedly handled 90,000 parts, walked a total of 200 miles and worked 10 hours per day on weekdays, accumulating 1,250 hours of operation.

Mercedes-Benz is currently testing the U.S. humanoid robot Apollo, developed by Apptronik, in the logistics and production sections of its Kecskemét plant in Hungary.

"Labor unions are strong in Korea; it's good to have them on board and make them understand that [this move] is not against them, but it's rather supporting their members to introduce automation," said Susanne Bieller, the general secretary of the International Federation of Robotics, during a recent interview with the Korea JoongAng Daily.

"For instance, Germany has strong labor unions, but it really understands well the benefits [of humanoids] and is supportive [of the robots]. That's also one of the factors increasing productivity: [whether] you have the staff embracing the technology and not fighting against it."

UBTech Robotics, widely regarded as China's leading humanoid robotics developer, deployed its Walker S1 robot for training at BYD's factory as early as 2024. The Chinese company also placed dozens of units at facilities operated by Geely, Volkswagen and Audi, and has secured preorders exceeding 500 units.

The market estimates the price of a single Atlas robot to be roughly 200 million won, with annual maintenance costs of around 14 million won. Considering the average salary of Hyundai's production w...

This article is by Shin Ha-nee and read by an artificial voice.

We Dem Boyz, the dance crew behind Jennie's solo track "Like Jennie" (2025), emerged as the biggest winner at the 2025 Choreo Awards, taking home the ceremony's top honor alongside the Best K-pop Choreography of the Year prize.

The crew, known for placing second in Mnet's dance competition program "Street Man Fighter" (2022), was recognized for crafting the charismatic choreography that completed the song's iconic performance, cementing its place in the year's most memorable K-pop stages.

"It's amazing to see people who are carving out their own path and place in their own style," said Ingyoo of We Dem Boyz during the annual awards ceremony held at Yes24 Live Hall in eastern Seoul on Saturday.

"We will also continue to create our own culture in our own way, so let's create K-culture together," he added.

Hosted by the Korea Choreography Copyright Association (KCCA) and jointly organized by Danstruct, Grigo Entertainment and 1Million Dance Studio, the 2025 Choreo Awards marked its second edition following its inaugural ceremony last year.

The annual event was established to spotlight choreographers — who play an integral part in the visual-driven K-pop industry, yet often work behind the scenes without much recognition — while also raising awareness of choreography as protected creative work.

"While there are many award ceremonies recognizing other forms of content such as films and television, there are very few dedicated to choreography, not only in Korea but also globally," KCCA Chairwoman and 1Million Dance Studio founder Lia Kim told the Korea JoongAng Daily ahead of the ceremony.

"Choreographers have limited opportunities to receive recognition for their work and often do not receive proper credit for their creative contributions in the media," said Kim. "So this event is particularly meaningful in the sense that it brings people together interested in dance, culture, copyright and K-content."

The night's top honor, the Choreographer of the Year, went to We Dem Boyz, which prevailed over nominees Baby Zoo, Choi Young-jun — also known as Tamzin — Lachica, The Bips and Nain.

We Dem Boyz's Vata and Ingyoo also won the main prize in the Best K-pop Choreography of the Year category for "Like Jennie" with choreographer Silverspoon. The special award in the category went to G-Dragon's "Too Bad" (2025), created by Rie Hata, Deukie, Dony and Renan.

In the K-pop Choreography Discovery category, which recognizes newly emerged K-pop dance performers and choreographers, the award went to "Soda Pop" from Netflix's "KPop Demon Hunters" (2025).

The Dance Challenge of the Year went to French dancer Kany, whose hangul-learning clip from a YouTube video became an online challenge that went viral on social media.

Locker Zee and Jin won the Best Dancer of the Year awards in the female and male categories, respectively. The Dance Star awards, fully determined by online fan votes, went to dancer Kyoka of Osaka Ojo Gang.

Studio Choom won the Dance Impact award, recognized for the YouTube channel's innovative contribution to the dance scene. In the Best Dance Performance category, "Show" (2025) by Team Nuts won the main prize, and "2025 Diver" by dance crew Diver of Sejong University's Center for Future Education won the special prize.

This year's Choreo Awards signaled a notable expansion in scale and ambition. While the inaugural event took place at 1Million Dance Studio, the 2025 edition moved to a larger concert venue and opened ticket sales to the public.

The stage lineup also broadened to include some of the most prominent names in Korea's dance scene. Dance crews such as We Dem Boyz, Bebe and 1Million took to the stage for celebratory performances as well as dancers Aiki and Ki Moo-gan.

K-pop acts AtHeart and ifeye joined the occasion as well, highlighting the symbiotic relationship between idol performances and the choreographers who help shape them.

"We aimed to prom...

This article is by Park Sang-moon and read by an artificial voice.

One man's trash is another man's treasure, the saying goes. That proverb holds true for Han Won-suk, who makes large-scale art installations out of abandoned industrial waste.

His works draw inspiration from Korean cultural heritage such as the Cheomseongdae Observatory and the Emille Bell of the Silla Dynasty (57 B.C. to A.D. 935) in Gyeongju, North Gyeongsang, as well as the iconic moon jar from the Joseon era (1392-1910).

Han's Cheomseongdae sculpture, made from used car headlights, cast a bright glow, while his Emille Bell replica, assembled from discarded speakers, emulates a clear ringing sound.

Han studied environmental design at the Chelsea College of Art and Design in Britain and later earned a degree in architecture from the University of Tokyo. As both an architect and installation artist, he is known for breaking the boundary between architecture and art.

Han's path to becoming an artist was anything but easy.

He grew up in a troubled household and dreamed of living beautifully. Reading the works of great minds like Friedrich Nietzsche, Sigmund Freud and Carl Jung helped set him on the path to turning that dream into reality. Convinced that becoming an artist was the best way to live that dream, he dropped out of Daeil Foreign Language High School in Seoul at the age of 18. When his father told him to leave home if he was going to become a hwaenjaengi — a dismissive term for artists — Han left for good.

He learned to draw by doing chores at an art academy while earning money as a mover, a welder and a painter at construction sites. At one point, he rented a windowless studio that didn't even have a bathroom. He had to rush to subway stations when he needed to use the restroom. During monsoon season, mold covered his body as he worked in a basement with no sunlight. Still, he endured, believing that every moment brought him closer to the beautiful life he envisioned.

Han spent more than a decade working menial jobs by day and studying art and architecture by night. At 29, he took a leap of faith and moved to London. There, a pivotal moment came — not from canvas or concrete, but from cigarette butts. Collecting discarded cigarette stubs off the streets, he created "The Flower of Evil," a work that sparked attention and helped define his artistic voice. The piece became a symbol of his creative philosophy: to give new life to what has been thrown away.

He held his first solo exhibition in Seoul in 2003, under the same title, "The Flower of Evil." In it, he sought reconciliation between discarded humans and discarded objects.

Discarded objects that are no longer functional and thrown away are the core materials in Han's work. He views items like car headlights, rubber pipes, cigarette butts and broken speakers not just as trash but as icons of the reality we are living in today.

His first work using car headlights was a life-size reconstruction of Cheomseongdae, created in 2006 to commemorate the first anniversary of the Cheonggyecheon restoration in central Seoul. The piece included 1,374 headlights — matching the age of the real Cheomseongdae at the time — with light-emitting diode lights installed to symbolize starlight, echoing the observatory's original purpose.

In 2008, Han created a replica of the Emille Bell using 3,080 discarded speakers, connected through 6,160 soldered joints. In 2022, he unveiled a 3.7-meter-tall (12-foot-tall) media installation of the same bell, and in 2025, he completed yet another Emille Bell-inspired piece, using 2,050 waste pipes to mark the Asia-Pacific Economic Cooperation summit held in Gyeongju.

Later that same year, Han debuted "Re:moon" at the Seoul Cheonggyecheon Lantern Festival. The large-scale moon jar sculpture was made using 600 discarded car headlights and rubber sealant. Through this work, Han visualized a narrative of "rebirth" in which extinguished light is brought back to illuminate the city. T...

This article is by Cho Jung-woo and read by an artificial voice.

[EXPLAINER]

Korea is now the first country to enforce a comprehensive and nationwide artificial intelligence law. With the measures having taken effect on Thursday, uncertainty remains over how its provisions will be interpreted and applied.

The law, formally titled the Framework Act on the Development of Artificial Intelligence and the Establishment of Trust, was passed by the National Assembly in December 2024. It aims to protect human rights and dignity by regulating AI-generated content while promoting what the government calls the sound development of the industry.

The legislation includes a one-year grace period intended to give companies time to adjust before penalties are imposed.

The move comes as governments around the world race to regulate the rapid advance of AI. The European Union adopted its own AI Act in 2024, and the law entered into force on Aug. 1 of that year, though most of its provisions will be phased in gradually through 2027.

Why was the law adopted?

Korean officials say the law is meant to strike a balance between fostering innovation and establishing safeguards at a moment of explosive growth in the AI sector. The act lays out principles for AI-related policymaking and imposes obligations on businesses that develop or deploy AI systems.

The law also comes as public concern rises over crimes involving manipulated digital content, especially deepfake content. During a nationwide police crackdown from November 2024 to October 2025, authorities recorded 3,411 cyber sexual crime cases, of which 35.2 percent involved deepfake material.

What are the main provisions?

The law introduces several core elements, including rules governing transparency requirements for AI-generated content and so-called high-impact AI systems, penalties for violations and a requirement that foreign AI companies that meet certain benchmarks designate a domestic representative in Korea to serve as a point of contact with regulators.

That last requirement applies only to companies that meet at least one of three thresholds: global revenue of 1 trillion won ($680 million), domestic revenue of 10 billion won or an average of more than one million daily users in Korea. In practice, officials acknowledge that the provision is likely to apply only to a handful of global technology companies, such as Google and OpenAI.

On the industrial policy side, the law provides a legal basis for government support for AI research and development, assistance for AI adoption and commercialization, support for startups, the promotion of AI convergence across industries, the cultivation of specialized talent and the development of AI data centers.

Notably, however, the law does not include provisions specifically addressing the protection of minors who use AI services.

Who is penalized for failing to disclose AI-generated content?

Under the law, penalties apply to providers of AI services rather than end users. This includes foreign companies that offer AI products or services to users in Korea. Individual consumers are not subject to punishment.

The utilization of AI tools in itself is not grounds for liability; responsibility rests with AI developers and service operators, not with private users, broadcasters or publishers that rely on those tools.

What transparency requirements apply?

According to the Ministry of Science and ICT, transparency obligations vary depending on the service environment and the type of AI-generated output.

For content delivered within a service platform or used within a service user interface, the providers are required to let users know that AI was used to produce content, with both general AI-generated material and deepfake content clearly identified. The visibility of the Gemini logo on its website while users input prompts is one example. When gamers engage in an AI-based chat service on a gaming platform, the service provider is required to clearly not...