Korea JoongAng Daily - Daily News from Korea

Kim Byung-yeon

The author is a chaired professor of economics at Seoul National University.

In the early 19th century, Britain stood at a crossroads of progress and division, dominance and collapse. Adam Smith's "The Wealth of Nations" (1776) helped legitimize capitalism, which until then had often been viewed with suspicion and fear. Around the same time, the steam engine revolution transformed society. Regardless of social status or education, those with technical skills and capital could now become wealthy.

But the changes also produced severe social conflict. Workers displaced by mechanization launched the Luddite movement, destroying factory machinery and attacking employers. While the rich built temple-like mansions with their enormous fortunes, children and pregnant women worked more than 12 hours a day in coal mines. Britain was also engaged in fierce geopolitical rivalry, fighting Napoleon's France for a decade. Had Britain lost the Battle of Waterloo, the British Empire might have collapsed, and the course of world history could have changed.

Another era of upheaval has now arrived.

The 19th century witnessed the Industrial Revolution, the spread of capitalism and democracy and intense competition for global supremacy. Any one of these developments alone could have transformed the world. The fact that they unfolded simultaneously reveals the scale of the disruption.

Today, similar forces are converging once again. The possibility of a massive industrial revolution driven by AI, the weakening of democracy and capitalism and the intensifying rivalry between the United States and China are becoming closely intertwined. Global historical transformations emerge under such conditions. Enormous opportunities coexist with grave risks, and volatility and uncertainty shake societies around the globe. The fate of both individuals and nations may depend on how successfully they endure and use this transition to their advantage. The question is whether we are prepared.

The AI revolution may bring broader and faster creative destruction than the steam engine revolution ever did. Humanity has long coexisted with animals that are stronger than humans, but never with beings that are more intelligent. That reality is now changing. A widening divide could emerge between a small number of wealthy people profiting from creative industries and a large population engaged in physical or emotional labor that intelligent robots cannot easily replace.

The destruction of jobs is also likely to proceed far more quickly. Physical machinery takes time to spread, but digital technologies move almost instantly across networks. During what could be decades of transition before a new employment ecosystem stabilizes, mass unemployment, polarization and resulting social and political conflict may prove unavoidable. If ethical standards for AI are not established in time, direct conflict between humans and AI could even emerge.

The U.S.-China rivalry is also likely to persist for decades, amplifying the instability created by technological transformation. Both countries possess vast territories and populations, giving them exceptional resilience and abundant resources. They differ fundamentally from earlier powers such as Britain, which depended heavily on colonies, or what was once the Soviet Union, which relied on satellite states in its rivalry with the United States.

Both countries also face serious internal vulnerabilities. China's greatest risk lies in a potential collision between economic development and political rigidity. After the Industrial Revolution, France, Germany and Russia failed to resolve similar contradictions and descended into crisis. Their economies expanded through capitalism and industrialization, but unlike Britain, their outdated political systems struggled to absorb rising social tensions. France and Germany projected their frustrations outward through war, whereas Russia experienced a socialist revolution.

China now fac...

President Lee Jae Myung and Japanese Prime Minister Sanae Takaichi held their third summit meeting on Tuesday in Andong, North Gyeongsang. It came just four months after their previous meeting in Nara Prefecture in January and about a half year since their encounter during last year's Asia-Pacific Economic Cooperation summit, reflecting the rapid normalization of shuttle diplomacy between the two countries.

Lee noted that regular summits held in each leader's hometown were rare in global diplomacy, while Takaichi joked that the absence of a time difference should allow them to speak frequently by phone. Their close diplomatic engagement has produced tangible results beyond symbolism.

The two sides agreed to strengthen cooperation on liquefied natural gas and crude oil supply chains as instability in the Middle East raises concerns over energy security. South Korea and Japan also decided to develop a framework allowing mutual sharing of crude oil and petroleum products during emergencies and discussed creating a joint energy stockpiling system in Southeast Asia. They further pledged to cooperate in ensuring safe and free navigation through the Strait of Hormuz.

The summit also produced progress on a longstanding humanitarian issue. The two countries agreed to begin DNA analysis of remains recovered from the Josei coal mine site, marking what both governments described as an important first step.

Only a few years ago, South Korea-Japan relations had fallen into severe confrontation. Emotional disputes symbolized by the "No Japan" boycott campaign and nationalist rhetoric drove bilateral ties to what many called their lowest point since diplomatic normalization in 1965. Yet repeated meetings and direct communication between leaders have restored frozen diplomatic channels and significantly improved relations.

The shift comes at a time of intensifying geopolitical uncertainty. Russian President Vladimir Putin's state visit to China and the subsequent China-Russia summit have heightened concerns over growing strategic coordination among North Korea, China and Russia. At the same time, anxiety persists over renewed isolationist tendencies under U.S. President Donald Trump's second administration. Against that backdrop, closer South Korea-Japan cooperation through regular shuttle diplomacy has increasingly become a matter of strategic necessity rather than diplomatic choice.

For such cooperation to remain sustainable, however, it must not become hostage to domestic political interests. Both countries should avoid repeating past practices of exploiting diplomatic disputes for political mobilization at home. Agreements reached between states should be maintained consistently regardless of changes in government.

It was encouraging that the two leaders also discussed cooperation on personal information protection and responses to online scam crimes increasingly affecting citizens in both countries. The real purpose of shuttle diplomacy ultimately lies in producing practical cooperation that ordinary people can directly feel in their daily lives. Only then can the foundation of South Korea-Japan relations become truly durable.

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 Lee Young-keun and read by an artificial voice.

With only two days left before a planned walkout by a Samsung Electronics labor union, management and workers remained deadlocked as of press time on Tuesday. Still, the government's chief mediator struck an optimistic tone.

The closed-door session at the National Labor Relations Commission's Sejong office began at 10 a.m. Tuesday and continued through the evening, after the Monday meeting failed to close the gap. Commission Chairman Park Soo-keun told reporters there was still room for a deal.

"There's still a possibility of an agreement between the two sides and the differences are narrowing," Park said.

"We'll wrap up the negotiations by 7 p.m. if at all possible." He added that the commission planned to walk through the unresolved points from the previous day with both sides.

Monday's session saw the formula for distributing the performance bonus fund emerge as the main flashpoint. Union leadership has proposed allocating 70 percent of the fund at the division level and 30 percent at the individual business unit level — a structure intended to soften the gap between business units and ensure that employees at the loss-making System LSI and Foundry units still receive some compensation.

The company has pushed back. Management has warned that an outsize division-wide pool would effectively put employees at money-losing units on par with those at profitable ones. The shift would undercut Samsung's longstanding pay-for-performance principle.

Both System LSI and Foundry are again expected to operate in the red this year. Inside Samsung, this has raised concerns that lifting the division-wide share to 70 percent would sharply narrow the bonus gap between the strongly performing memory business and weaker units.

Pushback from rank-and-file employees has also surfaced.

"It's hard to accept a structure where the chronically loss-making System LSI and Foundry get performance bonuses on par with Memory," a worker who identified themselves as a member of the Semiconductor R&D Center wrote on an internal message board.

The same post argued for raising the business-unit weighting to "30 percent at the division level and 70 percent at the business unit level."

Industry watchers warn that overcompensating loss-making units could erode internal discipline and set a negative precedent for the wider corporate sector.

"If Samsung Electronics produces an agreement that lacks fairness and reasonableness in evaluation, this is an issue that could affect other companies as well," said Jeon Hye-sun, a labor attorney at Yeollin Labor.

"There's a high chance this spreads as significant fallout across the entire performance compensation system."

A more realistic compromise of 40 percent division-wide and 60 percent at the business unit level is also reportedly being floated internally, though the gap between labor and management makes a near-term deal unlikely.

Internal union conflict has continued in parallel.

"Once this wraps up, let's think about splitting the union. National Samsung Electronics Union [NSEU] and Samsung Electronics Labor Union [SELU] are too much," wrote Choi Seung-ho, head of the Samsung Electronics chapter of the Samsung Group United Union, in a cross-affiliate communication channel on Telegram on Monday.

"Honestly, I can't deal with DX [the company's Device eXperience division] anymore."

After the post drew criticism, he deleted it and apologized on a separate channel for "mistakenly posting a vent meant for leadership."

The union's vice chair, Lee Song-yi, had also drawn internal backlash with similar comments about the DX division.

"If they want to spin off, let them. We who brought it this far will take responsibility," he said.

Choi's remarks are seen as fallout from a clash at Monday's session with the NSEU and the SELU. The two unions oppose a bonus proposal centered on the Device Solutions (DS) semiconductor division. They staged a picket protest o...

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

Boy band xikers is starting again from zero — and stepping hard on the accelerator right away with its latest anthem "OKay."

"When performing 'OKay' on stage, I feel like we're all possessed with the same feverish energy," said member Minjae during a press showcase for the group's seventh EP, "Route Zero: The Ora," at NOL Theater Tongyang Life Insurance Hall in Mapo District, western Seoul, on Tuesday — also the day of the album's release.

True to his words, the group delivered "OKay," the lead track of the latest EP, with a notably high-impact live performance marked by explosive choreography and raw energy. The fast-paced song builds toward a dance break, which begins with a shout and ends with all 10 members stomping their feet with a collective thump.

xikers, which debuted under KQ Entertainment in March 2023, consists of Minjae, Junmin, Sumin, Jinsik, Hyunwoo, Junghoon, Seeun, Yujun, Hunter and Yechan.

"Route Zero: The Ora" features five songs: "OKay," "Ghost Rider," "Graffiti," "Trophy" and "Outsider."

The dance-pop lead track, "OKay," is marked by energetic chants in the chorus and rapid rap verses. Yechan described the song as "showing xikers's unique energy as we boldly defy the world's rules."

The latest album comes about seven months after the group's sixth EP, "House of Tricky: Wrecking the House" (2025), which concluded the boy band's "House of Tricky" series that began with its debut EP, "House of Tricky: Doorbell Ringing" (2023).

In other words, "Route Zero" is xikers's first new series since its debut.

"The series' title, 'Route Zero,' signifies us starting anew from the ashes after 'Wrecking the House,'" said Jinsik. "The road ahead may be rough, but we hope that people look forward to seeing us grow as we pave our own new path forward."

"I believe our sincerity, carried through our songs, sets us apart on stage," Sumin said. "Some of our fans have told us that our performances give them motivation and comfort to keep going even when life is difficult, which made me feel lucky to have this job."

With well-earned confidence in their live performance abilities, the members said that they dream of standing on bigger stages.

"We'd like to perform at major festivals, such as Lollapalooza or Coachella, one day," said Seeun.

Leader Minjae noted that the members had many conversations while preparing for the album, for which they worked hard to complement one another's strengths.

"We're growing step by step," he said. "One day, we'll reach the highest stage like that. And when people look back at this moment in the future, we want them to think, 'They were really giving their all when they were young — and they're still doing that now.'"

This article is by Yoon Seung-jin and read by an artificial voice.

When Vietnamese student Le Huong Giang came to Korea, she believed she had prepared well for the future that she hoped to build here.

For months, she studied Korean and researched local universities, all while imagining a life in a country that promotes itself as a rising global education hub. But on the very first day of class, she realized that the reality was far more difficult than she had expected, with language barriers that extended far beyond everyday conversation and an environment in which it was difficult to feel a true sense of belonging.

"I came to Korea with concerns about whether I would be able to keep up academically and socially," Le told the Korea JoongAng Daily with the help of an AI translation tool and Duong Tien Dat, a K-campus ambassador from Vietnam. "Even though I had studied Korean beforehand and learned a lot about the country, [adjusting to] the reality has been far more difficult than I expected it to be."

K-campus is an online platform for international students, run by the Korea JoongAng Daily, that offers guidance on life in Korea.

"The people around me are nice, and I haven't experienced any severe discrimination, but I often find it difficult to follow [conversations] and fully adapt," Le added.

Her experience reflects a growing contradiction alongside Korea's higher education ambitions: While universities race to attract international students, many of those students continue to struggle due to language barriers and consequent integration issues.

The gap starts with language barriers

Though Korea has seen the number of international students more than double from 163,699 in 2021 to 328,330 as of April, data shows that this milestone has been achieved without meeting one of the most basic criteria: language requirements.

The Ministry of Education recommends that universities admit students who have achieved at least Level 3 on the Test of Proficiency in Korean (Topik) or a score of 59 or higher on the Test of English as a Foreign Language Internet-based Test (Toefl iBT).

In practice, however, many universities admit students who did not meet those standards.

According to recent data from the Korean Council for University Education, more than half — or 50.1 percent — of the country's 320,000-plus international students fell short of the Education Ministry's recommended minimum language proficiency benchmarks. At universities outside Seoul, where administrative resources are often more limited, that figure rises to 58.5 percent.

The issue is structural. Admission decisions are largely left to institutional discretion, and universities face no direct penalties for enrolling students who do not meet the ministry's guidelines.

Language barriers lead to alienation

For Korean students, the growing language divide is beginning to reshape the classroom experience itself.

Group projects, presentations and discussion-based assignments often become sources of anxiety due to the potential risk of having to struggle with communication barriers on top of a difficult task.

"To be honest, many Korean students, myself included, worry about group projects when we are paired with international students," one Korean student told the Korea JoongAng Daily on the condition of anonymity.

"Sometimes they cannot fully understand the discussions because of the language barrier, but our grades are tied together."

The frustration, however, appears to run even deeper among international students.

"I know that, as a student who chose to study here, I'm the one who has to work harder to overcome the language barrier," said Juan Antonio, an international student who asked to be identified by his first name.

"However, I can't help but feel discouraged when I sense that Korean students don't really want to work with us."

Will AI tools solve the problem?

In response to mounting concerns, many universities have begun introducing AI translation technologies ...

This article is by Yoon Seung-jin and read by an artificial voice.

When Vietnamese student Le Huong Giang came to Korea, she believed she had prepared well for the future that she hoped to build here.

For months, she studied Korean and researched local universities, all while imagining a life in a country that promotes itself as a rising global education hub. But on the very first day of class, she realized that the reality was far more difficult than she had expected, with language barriers that extended far beyond everyday conversation and an environment in which it was difficult to feel a true sense of belonging.

"I came to Korea with concerns about whether I would be able to keep up academically and socially," Le told the Korea JoongAng Daily with the help of an AI translation tool and Duong Tien Dat, a K-campus ambassador from Vietnam. "Even though I had studied Korean beforehand and learned a lot about the country, [adjusting to] the reality has been far more difficult than I expected it to be."

K-campus is an online platform for international students, run by the Korea JoongAng Daily, that offers guidance on life in Korea.

"The people around me are nice, and I haven't experienced any severe discrimination, but I often find it difficult to follow [conversations] and fully adapt," Le added.

Her experience reflects a growing contradiction alongside Korea's higher education ambitions: While universities race to attract international students, many of those students continue to struggle due to language barriers and consequent integration issues.

The gap starts with language barriers

Though Korea has seen the number of international students more than double from 163,699 in 2021 to 328,330 as of April, data shows that this milestone has been achieved without meeting one of the most basic criteria: language requirements.

The Ministry of Education recommends that universities admit students who have achieved at least Level 3 on the Test of Proficiency in Korean (Topik) or a score of 59 or higher on the Test of English as a Foreign Language Internet-based Test (Toefl iBT).

In practice, however, many universities admit students who did not meet those standards.

According to recent data from the Korean Council for University Education, more than half — or 50.1 percent — of the country's 320,000-plus international students fell short of the Education Ministry's recommended minimum language proficiency benchmarks. At universities outside Seoul, where administrative resources are often more limited, that figure rises to 58.5 percent.

The issue is structural. Admission decisions are largely left to institutional discretion, and universities face no direct penalties for enrolling students who do not meet the ministry's guidelines.

Language barriers lead to alienation

For Korean students, the growing language divide is beginning to reshape the classroom experience itself.

Group projects, presentations and discussion-based assignments often become sources of anxiety due to the potential risk of having to struggle with communication barriers on top of a difficult task.

"To be honest, many Korean students, myself included, worry about group projects when we are paired with international students," one Korean student told the Korea JoongAng Daily on the condition of anonymity.

"Sometimes they cannot fully understand the discussions because of the language barrier, but our grades are tied together."

The frustration, however, appears to run even deeper among international students.

"I know that, as a student who chose to study here, I'm the one who has to work harder to overcome the language barrier," said Juan Antonio, an international student who asked to be identified by his first name.

"However, I can't help but feel discouraged when I sense that Korean students don't really want to work with us."

Will AI tools solve the problem?

In response to mounting concerns, many universities have begun introducing AI translation technologies ...

This article is by Yoon Seung-jin and read by an artificial voice.

When Vietnamese student Le Huong Giang came to Korea, she believed she had prepared well for the future that she hoped to build here.

For months, she studied Korean and researched local universities, all while imagining a life in a country that promotes itself as a rising global education hub. But on the very first day of class, she realized that the reality was far more difficult than she had expected, with language barriers that extended far beyond everyday conversation and an environment in which it was difficult to feel a true sense of belonging.

"I came to Korea with concerns about whether I would be able to keep up academically and socially," Le told the Korea JoongAng Daily with the help of an AI translation tool and Duong Tien Dat, a K-campus ambassador from Vietnam. "Even though I had studied Korean beforehand and learned a lot about the country, [adjusting to] the reality has been far more difficult than I expected it to be."

K-campus is an online platform for international students, run by the Korea JoongAng Daily, that offers guidance on life in Korea.

"The people around me are nice, and I haven't experienced any severe discrimination, but I often find it difficult to follow [conversations] and fully adapt," Le added.

Her experience reflects a growing contradiction alongside Korea's higher education ambitions: While universities race to attract international students, many of those students continue to struggle due to language barriers and consequent integration issues.

The gap starts with language barriers

Though Korea has seen the number of international students more than double from 163,699 in 2021 to 328,330 as of April, data shows that this milestone has been achieved without meeting one of the most basic criteria: language requirements.

The Ministry of Education recommends that universities admit students who have achieved at least Level 3 on the Test of Proficiency in Korean, or the Topik, or a score of 59 or higher on the Test of English as a Foreign Language Internet-based Test, or the Toefl iBT.

In practice, however, many universities admit students who did not meet those standards.

According to recent data from the Korean Council for University Education, more than half — or 50.1 percent — of the country's 320,000-plus international students fell short of the Education Ministry's recommended minimum language proficiency benchmarks. At universities outside Seoul, where administrative resources are often more limited, that figure rose to 58.5 percent.

The issue is structural. Admission decisions are largely left to institutional discretion, and universities face no direct penalties for enrolling students who do not meet the ministry's guidelines.

Language barriers lead to alienation

For Korean students, the growing language divide is beginning to reshape the classroom experience itself.

Group projects, presentations and discussion-based assignments often become sources of anxiety due to the potential risk of having to struggle with communication barriers on top of a difficult task.

"To be honest, many Korean students, myself included, worry about group projects when we are paired with international students," one Korean student told the Korea JoongAng Daily on the condition of anonymity.

"Sometimes they cannot fully understand the discussions because of the language barrier, but our grades are tied together."

The frustration, however, appears to run even deeper among international students.

"I know that, as a student who chose to study here, I'm the one who has to work harder to overcome the language barrier," said Juan Antonio, an international student who asked to be identified by his first name.

"However, I can't help but feel discouraged when I sense that Korean students don't really want to work with us."

Will AI tools solve the problem?

In response to mounting concerns, many universities have begun introducing AI translation t...

Park Won-gon

The author is a professor of North Korean studies at Ewha Womans University.

"We can't continue to allow China to rape our country."

"Together, we have the chance to create a future of greater prosperity, cooperation and happiness."

Both remarks came from U.S. President Donald Trump. The first was delivered during the 2016 U.S. presidential campaign, while the second came during a toast at last week's U.S.-China summit. Trump's China policy, which has swung sharply between extremes, may now culminate in effectively elevating China to equal status alongside the United States, forming a de facto "Group of Two."

Chinese President Xi Jinping was unusually direct in addressing Washington. During opening remarks at the summit, he invoked the "Thucydides Trap," the theory that war often erupts when a rising power challenges an established hegemon.

According to Graham Allison of Harvard University, the current U.S.-China rivalry represents the 17th historical case of the Thucydides Trap, with roughly 75 percent of previous cases ending in war.

Xi's decision to raise the concept directly in front of Trump carried a clear message: avoiding conflict requires the United States to recognize China as an equal partner. In effect, Xi was demanding that Washington stop fearing Beijing's rise and formally acknowledge its enhanced status.

Xi's dinner remarks were equally revealing. He stated that "the great rejuvenation of the Chinese nation and making America great again can go hand in hand." The "great rejuvenation" refers to China's long-term strategy, often linked to the "Chinese Dream," which aims to restore the country to a central global position by 2049.

MAGA, by contrast, increasingly reflects a form of selective isolationism centered on domestic priorities and reduced involvement in regions lacking vital U.S. interests. The Trump administration has translated this into preserving overwhelming U.S. influence across the Western Hemisphere.

Xi's remarks suggested a broader strategic vision: a division of global influence between the United States and China. Under such a framework, Washington would dominate the Western Hemisphere while Beijing would secure primacy in Asia. The idea echoes Xi's repeated statement since 2013 that "the vast Pacific Ocean is large enough to accommodate both China and the United States."

Implicitly, the proposal amounts to a division of spheres of influence, with the United States overseeing the eastern Pacific and China asserting dominance over the western Pacific.

China has framed this approach as a "constructive strategic stability relationship." According to the Chinese foreign ministry, the concept envisions stability based on cooperation, manageable competition, controlled disagreements and a commitment to peace.

This marks an evolution from Xi's earlier concept of a "new type of major-power relations," introduced in 2012. That framework also treated the United States and China as equals, but largely downplayed rivalry while emphasizing mutual respect and shared interests. Washington never fully accepted it.

The new formulation differs in openly acknowledging strategic competition and seeking to manage it rather than denying it. Unlike the earlier proposal, it was explicitly referenced during a formal summit and included in Chinese foreign ministry statements, increasing the likelihood that it could shape real-world diplomacy.

While Beijing arrived at the summit with a coherent strategy focused on establishing equal status with Washington, the Trump administration appeared to lack a clear China strategy altogether. There was little evidence of a consistent framework for managing relations with a rising China.

Instead, the summit was shaped by domestic political pressures, including economic strain linked to the Iran war, falling approval ratings and Trump's highly personalized approach to international relations.

According to polling analyst Nate Silver, Trump's approval rating fell to 3...

Koh Hyun-kohn

The author is the chief editorial writer at the JoongAng Ilbo.

Almost one year into the Lee Jae Myung administration, stock investors are the clearest winners in the economy. The Kospi, which stood at 2,698 points when President Lee first took office, has nearly tripled since then. An investor who put 100 million won ($66,850) into an index fund last summer would now hold assets worth about 300 million won.

In 2025 alone, individual investors earned 429 trillion won from stocks, and profits have only grown stronger. Stories about people earning "a lifetime's worth of savings" in a short period of time have become common. Despite obvious signs of overheating, the market is dominated by investors' optimism.

Last year, the president said that he wanted to create an environment in which "returning to the domestic stock market would be considered a sign of intelligence." In some ways, that goal has been realized. But not everyone is celebrating.

Those unable or unwilling to join the stock rally increasingly suffer from "FOMO," or the fear of missing out. That does not mean that they lack judgment. Some are simply unwilling to risk their retirement savings on equities, and others do not have the money to spare for investments. For people outside the market, Lee's "sign of intelligence" remark can sound insulting.

While rising stock prices are preferable to falling ones, they do little to reduce inequality. According to the Bank of Korea, the wealthiest 20 percent of households own 73 percent of all stocks. The wealthy become wealthier, and many lower-income households remain spectators.

Young people and low-income earners hoping to transform their financial situation have increasingly turned to debt-financed investing. Outstanding margin loans that are used to buy stocks have surpassed a record 36 trillion won. That is hardly normal.

However, the government appears more focused on boosting markets than warning the public about risks. On May 11, as the Kospi rose for the fifth consecutive session, Deputy Prime Minister and Finance Minister Koo Yun-cheol remarked that the market remained undervalued. The country's top economic official sounded more like a securities firm executive than a policymaker tasked with maintaining stability.

Investors bear primary responsibility for their own decisions, but a government that ignores or encourages speculative excess cannot avoid responsibility forever.

Another group of winners during this administration's first year has been apartment owners in Seoul and the surrounding metropolitan areas. Housing prices have repeatedly surged despite government measures aimed at stabilization, with many increasing by 500 million won to 1 billion won over the past year alone.

Earlier this month, Lee declared that "the myth that real estate prices never fall no longer exists," but the reality suggests otherwise. After heavier capital gains taxes on owners of multiple homes resumed on May 10, apartment prices began to climb again.

At the start of the administration, officials predicted that money would flow out of the real estate market and into stocks. Instead, the reverse happened. Many people used profits from stocks to buy property. According to the Bank of Korea, people without homes spent roughly 70 percent of their stock profits on real estate purchases. The government appears to have underestimated the fact that property ownership still dominates public thinking.

More troubling than the soaring housing prices is the rental market. The number of available jeonse (lump-sum deposit) and monthly rental listings has fallen by more than 30 percent this year, which has pushed prices sharply higher. Last week, Seoul's jeonse prices recorded their steepest increase in a decade.

In some cases, renters are signing contracts before even viewing properties, creating what has become known as "no-look jeonse." Even in outer Seoul districts, such as Nowon, Dobong, Gangbuk, Geumcheon, Gwanak and Guro, ...

Last-minute negotiations between Samsung Electronics management and its labor union failed on Monday despite government mediation ahead of a threatened strike over performance bonuses. Attention is now focused on whether both sides will accept a compromise proposal from the National Labor Relations Commission during follow-up mediation talks scheduled for Tuesday.

With concerns growing that direct and indirect losses from a strike could reach as much as 100 trillion won ($66.2 billion), Korea cannot afford a breakdown that would inflict serious damage on the broader economy and the semiconductor industry.

Even President Lee Jae Myung intervened publicly in an apparent effort to prevent a walkout. In a social media post released shortly before negotiations began, Lee emphasized that in a country founded on a liberal democratic order and a capitalist market economy, labor deserves respect just as corporations do, and workers' rights must be balanced with management rights.

Lee added that although constitutional rights are guaranteed, they may be restricted when necessary for the public good, provided their essential nature is not violated. Quoting the phrase "excess becomes deficiency," he appeared to warn that excessive demands or radical actions by the union could trigger public backlash. His remarks were also interpreted as signaling the possible use of emergency mediation powers.

The courts have also moved in management's favor, weakening the momentum behind the strike. The Suwon District Court's Civil Division 31 ruled on Monday that even during industrial action, the union must maintain Samsung Electronics' fire prevention, ventilation and drainage facilities at normal operating levels.

The court also ordered union members to continue essential work needed to prevent damage to facilities and the deterioration or spoilage of raw materials and products. It additionally banned the occupation of company facilities.

Despite intervention from both the president and the judiciary, the union's rhetoric appears increasingly disconnected from public sentiment. According to reports, messages posted in a union Telegram chat room included statements such as "Samsung Electronics should simply be destroyed" and sarcastic remarks claiming the strike would help push the Kospi index down to 5,000.

Such comments have heightened concerns that Korea's economy is effectively being held hostage by irresponsible behavior and extreme rhetoric during a sensitive economic period.

The right to strike is unquestionably protected under the Constitution. But if that right is abused in ways that threaten the national economy, government intervention and mediation become difficult to avoid.

Both labor and management should recognize the seriousness of the court ruling and the president's remarks. Rather than escalating confrontation, they should approach negotiations rationally and reach a compromise before the dispute develops into a broader economic crisis.

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.