Korea JoongAng Daily - Daily News from Korea

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

After seeing the breadth of coverage in Korea on the country's women's curling team, known as "5G," at the Milan-Cortina 2026 Winter Olympics, where Gim Eun-ji, Kim Su-ji, Kim Min-ji, Seol Ye-eun and Seol Ye-ji are chasing glory, one could be forgiven for thinking that the country has a long legacy of success in the sport.

Such attention belies curling's relatively short history in Korea. Such enthusiasm for the relatively obscure sport was inconceivable just a decade ago, when the country had little international presence.

Curling arrived in Korea in 1994 with the establishment of the Korean Curling Federation. Unlike the state-sponsored elite-athlete systems common in other Olympic disciplines, the sport remained closer to a neighborhood pastime, played by hobbyists rather than trained professionals, despite the presence of a federation. There were no dedicated facilities, let alone a professional league.

That began to change in 2007, when the country's first dedicated curling facility was built in Uiseong, North Gyeongsang Province. There, five teenagers — Kim Eun-jung, Kim Yeong-mi, Kim Seon-yeong, Kim Kyeong-ae and Kim Cho-hee — started taking interest in the unfamiliar sport. They first picked up curling as a casual after-school activity, with Kim Eun-jung and Kim Yeong-mi later recalling, "There wasn't much else to do after class."

What began as a neighborhood hobby soon grew into something unexpectedly serious, producing results that defied expectations.

As a high school amateur team, the Kims piled up strong results and quickly made their mark, sweeping junior-level competitions nationwide. After graduating, they continued their surge, eventually earning a spot at the Olympic trials for the 2014 Winter Games, where they competed against the nation's top teams for a berth in Sochi.

The team narrowly lost out to the Gyeonggi Provincial Office's team, and the defeat weighed heavily on the team's skip, Kim Eun-jung.

"Many people around us trusted us, and the Sochi trials didn't go well. I really wondered if curling was right for me," she later recalled during an interview in PyeongChang four years later.

Still, their shared dream of competing on home ice eventually pulled the team back together, with Kim later recalling in an interview, "I can't let my teammates' dreams collapse because of me."

The team captured the 2017 Asia-Pacific Curling Championships and silver at the Sapporo Asian Winter Games that same year, ready to rise on home ice in the 2018 PyeongChang Winter Olympics.

In the round-robin stage of the 2018 Olympics, Korea finished at the top of the standings, highlighted by a 7-6 win over Sweden along with key victories over other elite opponents that secured a semifinal berth. In the semifinals, "Team Kim" faced Japan.

In a match that went into extra ends, Kim Eun-jung's squad prevailed 8–7, avenging an earlier round-robin loss and punching their ticket to the final — the first time an Asian women's team had reached an Olympic curling gold-medal game, where they ultimately took silver after falling 3–8 to Sweden.

That success sparked a nationwide curling frenzy in Korea.

Riding the wave of popularity from the PyeongChang Winter Olympics — where more than 70 percent of respondents in a Gallup Korea survey picked curling as the most impressive sport of the Games — Korea launched its first domestic circuit, the Korea Curling League, in the 2019–20 season.

The post-Olympic fervor, however, was tainted by revelations of years of abuse and the embezzlement of prize money by their coaching staff, including officials from the North Gyeongsang Sports Council.

The controversy thrust the team into limbo, with training restrictions limiting its ability to practice.

After about two years, the team finally found a new home at Gangneung City Hall in Gangwon, where it could begin challenging for the next Olympics.

The team regrouped to represent Korea ...

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

After a period marred by consecutive disqualifications and heavy criticism over conflicts with fellow skaters — one of whom later changed nationality due to related issues — world record holder Hwang Dae-heon bounced back with a stunning performance in Milan, securing silver with 2:12.304 in one of his signature events, the men's 1,500 meters.

Competing in all three individual events — the 500-meter, 1,000-meter and 1,500-meter — Hwang showcased his mastery on the ice in the 1,500-meter race, powering his way to a second-place finish behind Dutch skater Jens van 't Wout. The result came after an unexpected loss in the mixed relay, where he teamed up with Choi Min-jeong, Kim Gil-li and Rim Jong-un.

"I'm so glad to be here. I went through so much to make it to this moment," Hwang said after clinching a medal at his third consecutive Olympics. "This medal is incredibly meaningful to me because it carries so many stories."

The 26-year-old's journey began at the age of five when he stubbornly insisted on trying skating. Despite hesitation from those around him, his persistence prevailed. Hwang later recalled that even in elementary school, whenever asked to draw his future dream, he always pictured himself as a national athlete.

The determined boy made his senior-level debut at 17, joining the national team for the International Skating Union (ISU) World Cup series in Salt Lake City in November 2016. There, he immediately proved his status as a prodigy by clocking a world-record time of 1:20.875 in the 1,000-meter repechage quarterfinals, a record he still holds.

His breakout led to success in the national selection qualifiers during the 2016-17 season, earning him a ticket to the Olympics in PyeongChang with a runner-up finish, qualifying for all three individual events.

But his meteoric rise was about to suffer a crushing blow.

Skating in front of a home crowd at the Games, Hwang crashed out of the 1,500-meter before later being disqualified in the 1,000-meter for impeding in the quarterfinals.

He didn't let those setbacks stop him, however, and captured his first Olympic medal in the 500 meters, finishing second ahead of Lim Hyo-jun — a teammate who would soon drag Hwang into a scandal.

The pair found themselves embroiled in a training center incident the year after PyeongChang after Lim pulled down Hwang's pants as he was climbing on a bouldering wall, leading Hwang to file a sexual harassment complaint. Although Lim was later found not guilty in court, he was still hit with a ban by the skating federation, preventing him from competing in professional events and becoming a key factor in his decision to skate for China as Lin Xiaojun.

Despite the turmoil, Hwang continued to establish himself as one of the world's best in the following competitions. He won gold in the 500 meters at the 2018 Montreal World Championships, defended the title at the 2019 Sofia Worlds, and added relay gold as well. His rise continued in 2020 when he became the first overall champion at the inaugural Four Continents Short Track Championships, sweeping the 500, 1,000, 1,500 meters as well as the 5,000-meter relay.

With momentum on his side, Hwang once again earned the right to represent Korea at the 2022 Beijing Winter Olympics after finishing first in both the first and second rounds of the national team trials held in May 2021, claiming the overall top spot.

Heading into the Olympics, he opened on a high note, delivering a top-notch performance in the 1,000-meter heats that set an Olympic record. However, the excitement soon gave way to disappointment when he was disqualified in the 500-meter semifinal.

Again proving his mettle, Hwang bounced back two days later in the 1,500 meters, claiming his first Olympic gold. In the men's 5,000-meter relay, teaming with Kwak Yoon-gy, Park Jang-hyuk and Lee June-seo, he added silver to his collection.

As was the case after PyeongChang, how...

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

After a period marred by consecutive disqualifications and heavy criticism over conflicts with fellow short track speed skaters — one of whom later changed nationality due to related issues — world record holder Hwang Dae-heon bounced back with a stunning performance in Milan, securing silver with 2:12.304 in one of his signature events, the men's 1,500 meters, on Saturday.

Competing in all three individual events — the 500-meter, 1,000-meter and 1,500-meter — Hwang showcased his mastery on the ice in the 1,500-meter race, powering his way to a second-place finish behind Dutch skater Jens van 't Wout. The result came after an unexpected loss in the mixed relay, where he teamed up with Choi Min-jeong, Kim Gil-li and Rim Jong-un.

"I'm so glad to be here. I went through so much to make it to this moment," Hwang said after clinching a medal at his third consecutive Olympics. "This medal is incredibly meaningful to me because it carries so many stories."

The 26-year-old's journey began at the age of five when he stubbornly insisted on trying skating. Despite hesitation from those around him, his persistence prevailed. Hwang later recalled that even in elementary school, whenever asked to draw his future dream, he always pictured himself as a national athlete.

The determined boy made his senior-level debut at 17, joining the national team for the International Skating Union (ISU) World Cup series in Salt Lake City in November 2016. There, he immediately proved his status as a prodigy by clocking a world-record time of 1:20.875 in the 1,000-meter repechage quarterfinals, a record he still holds.

His breakout led to success in the national selection qualifiers during the 2016-17 season, earning him a ticket to the Olympics in PyeongChang with a runner-up finish, qualifying for all three individual events.

But his meteoric rise was about to suffer a crushing blow.

Skating in front of a home crowd at the Games, Hwang crashed out of the 1,500-meter before later being disqualified in the 1,000-meter for impeding in the quarterfinals.

He didn't let those setbacks stop him, however, and captured his first Olympic medal in the 500 meters, finishing second ahead of Lim Hyo-jun — a teammate who would soon drag Hwang into a scandal.

The pair found themselves embroiled in a training center incident the year after PyeongChang after Lim pulled down Hwang's pants as he was climbing on a bouldering wall, leading Hwang to file a sexual harassment complaint. Although Lim was later found not guilty in court, he was still hit with a ban by the skating federation, preventing him from competing in professional events and becoming a key factor in his decision to skate for China as Lin Xiaojun.

Despite the turmoil, Hwang continued to establish himself as one of the world's best in the following competitions. He won gold in the 500 meters at the 2018 Montreal World Championships, defended the title at the 2019 Sofia Worlds, and added relay gold as well. His rise continued in 2020 when he became the first overall champion at the inaugural Four Continents Short Track Championships, sweeping the 500, 1,000, 1,500 meters as well as the 5,000-meter relay.

With momentum on his side, Hwang once again earned the right to represent Korea at the 2022 Beijing Winter Olympics after finishing first in both the first and second rounds of the national team trials held in May 2021, claiming the overall top spot.

Heading into the Olympics, he opened on a high note, delivering a top-notch performance in the 1,000-meter heats that set an Olympic record. However, the excitement soon gave way to disappointment when he was disqualified in the 500-meter semifinal.

Again proving his mettle, Hwang bounced back two days later in the 1,500 meters, claiming his first Olympic gold. In the men's 5,000-meter relay, teaming with Kwak Yoon-gy, Park Jang-hyuk and Lee June-seo, he added silver to his collection.

As was ...

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

Those familiar with various types of East Asian food will have noticed chopsticks change with the menu: plastic for orange chicken and chow mein, wood for sushi, and metal for bulgogi and japchae (stir-fried glass noodles).

Chopsticks have been a mainstay of East Asian cuisine for centuries. Yet differing histories and traditions have shaped the utensil in distinct ways, reflecting each culture's culinary practices.

Flat, slender and often slippery, Korea's stainless steel chopsticks are neither the easiest to use nor the cheapest option compared to their counterparts from other regions. But the country has remained committed to them for decades, using metal chopsticks in both homes and restaurants even today. Which raises the question: Why do Koreans use steel chopsticks?

First, a bit of history

Mankind's first chopsticks are largely known to be long, thin sticks made of animal bones excavated from a Neolithic site in Jiangsu Province, China, estimated to have been made between 6,600 and 5,500 BCE, according to "Chopsticks: A Cultural and Culinary History" (2017) by Edward Wang.

Chopsticks made of metal are also known to have originated in China, in the form of bronze, dating back about 3,500 years, discovered at the Shang Dynasty site.

In Korea, the oldest reported metal chopsticks were also made of bronze, two pairs excavated from the Tomb of King Muryeong, a Baekje period (r. 234-678) ruler who led from 501 to 523.

They each measured 21.2 centimeters (8.3 inches) and 19.6 centimeters in length, flat in shape, with rings attached to the gripping ends, allowing a chain to be fastened to connect the pair of sticks.

The modern use of metal chopsticks in Korea, however, is more closely tied to their role during the Joseon Dynasty (1392-1910) and the class divisions introduced under Neo-Confucianism.

During the early and mid Joseon period, chopsticks — unlike spoons — were used almost exclusively by royals and the upper classes, according to the Korean History Society, as the chopsticks were for foods that could be gripped. Commoners, whose diet largely consisted of sole dishes like gukbap (rice and soup), ate with spoons or their hands.

In the palace, however, wood, copper, brass, bronze and silver chopsticks were all used, either by cooks transporting food, by the royals themselves as they ate or by those performing rites, known as jesa, according to professor Koo Hye-in, behind the research paper, "Types and uses of spoons and chopsticks for royal rituals in the Joseon Dynasty" (2022).

Shapes varied, from sticks that were flat throughout to rounder or more angled types. Silver chopsticks with a round tip, in particular, were favored by royals for their supposed ability to detect poison. The belief is only partially true, though, as the precious metal reacts to only certain toxic substances.

Metal chopsticks became more widespread among the general public during the latter period of the Joseon Dynasty, with the dissolution of the rigid Confucian class system, and everyday diets grew more varied and side dishes, including kimchi, became an integral part of meals.

Food history scholars generally locate the formation of Korean cuisine in the late Joseon period, citing both the development of kimchi and the mixing of food cultures across social classes. According to Jeong Ui-do, researcher at the Korea Archeology and Art History Institute, the early Joseon period's strict social hierarchies kept royal, elite and commoner food practices separate. After the Imjin War (1592), however, social boundaries loosened, leading to shifts in food culture as court cuisine influenced elite diets, which in turn shaped those of commoners. This period also saw an influx of foreign ingredients. "The proliferation of cookbooks from the mid-17th century onward reflects this rapid expansion of ingredients and cooking methods, signaling the emergence of a richly varied food culture an...

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

Musical "Anna Karenina," based on Tolstoy's 1878 classic, is about much more than 19th-century Russian romance and adultery, according to its director Alina Chevik.

"I think there are still aspects of society around the world where men are more easily forgiven than women," the Russian director said during a roundtable interview Thursday at the Somerset Palace Seoul Hotel in Jongno District, central Seoul. "Anna makes mistakes, but these happen as she fights against everything in pursuit of happiness and love. Especially in this age of social media, I believe this tendency to frame and cancel others is something worth discussing and reflecting on — and that's what the musical 'Anna Karenina' aims to explore."

"Anna Karenina," set to open for a third run in Seoul on Feb. 20 at the Sejong Center for the Performing Arts, is a Russian musical with the book and lyrics written by Yuliy Kim, and music composed by Roman Ignatye. It premiered at the Moscow Operetta Theatre in 2016.

The plot, at least on the surface, is indeed about a forbidden love, between Anna, a high-society married woman, and Count Vronsky. As Anna throws away her aristocratic life and family for her lover, she eventually becomes isolated from society and spirals into despair.

"When we were discussing what to name the show, I hated the title 'Anna Karenina,' because I didn't like Anna," said Chevik. "My job as the director was to make audiences feel for Anna and understand her, but when I read Tolstoy's novel, I hated her."

Chevik's distaste for Anna is more than understandable. The character appears selfish as she prioritizes her romantic passion over family, and her actions, driven by jealousy and emotional volatility, are morally questionable.

So Chevik, in a bid to understand her, said she tried viewing Anna from many facets. "Ultimately, it was in the character's sadness and immense suffering that I came to understand her. It was the fight to obtain her love and happiness, and it all began to make sense to me. In the end, I fell in love with her."

For the morally complex lead, actors Ok Joo-hyun, Lee Ji-hye and Kim So-hyang are slated to alternate playing the part in Korea.

But before the show has even opened, "Anna Karenina" faces allegations of unfair distribution of performances among the three actors.

Ok, according to the cast schedule released late January, is set to star in 23 performances for the musical, out of the show's total 38 runs through March 29. Kim and Lee only play the character seven and eight times, respectively.

Fans have voiced their anger online. Kim also uploaded a post on her Instagram account with an implicitly accusatory message reading, "I have no words" on Jan. 28. Ok has been embroiled in a similar controversy before regarding monopolizing performances, in 2022. The actor has been part of the "Anna Karenina" team since its first run in Korea in 2018.

Chevik, during Thursday's roundtable, recognized the issue but emphasized that casting and the division of shows isn't the decision of a single person.

"I can clearly state that there was no scenario where an actor walked into a room and declared, 'I want to do this many shows.' That's just the business we are in."

Chevik went further to defend Ok. "As someone with no background knowledge on this issue, I see it as being overblown. It seems like what Anna went through, because everyone says, everyone attacks. It is easy to throw rocks, but before we do, it is worth thinking before throwing it."

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

[TEST DRIVE]

YONGIN, Gyeonggi — I approached it with a measure of skepticism. "It" was the Magma GV60, the first-ever high-performance car from Genesis, Hyundai Motor's luxury marque.

Over the years, I've driven lots of pedigreed performance cars — from Porsche to Mercedes-AMG and BMW's M. Could a brand's first attempt at performance credibly enter that arena?

I wasn't looking for the all-electric GV60 Magma to eclipse those historical German badges. But it needed a point of view — something distinctly its own.

After roughly two hours behind the wheel, the verdict was clear. Whatever could be debated, the Magma GV60 is a car crafted with uncommon care — a performance vehicle attentive even to the smallest details, the sort that reveals how much thought has gone into its making.

Visually, it's hard to miss. Finished in a striking bright shade of orange, the Magma stands out from a distance. The three air vents carved into the front bumper — what Genesis calls the "three-hole" — give it a sportier edge.

The first surprise came the moment I settled into the driver's seat. The Magma-exclusive bucket seats were unexpectedly plush, almost indulgent.

It's a quiet rebellion against a longstanding performance-car orthodoxy — that speed must come at the expense of comfort. In many German rivals, stiffness is treated as a badge of seriousness, and the Magma GV60 seems to question that premise. Why must fast always mean unforgiving?

Its true character emerged on the highway. Switch into GT mode and the car undergoes a palpable transformation. The car suddenly feels sharper, and the road surface is much more noticeable.

The apex of the experience sat quietly beneath my right thumb, a small button mounted on the lower right of the steering wheel with the text "Boost Mode" that unlocks the Magma's most visceral self.

Press it, and for 15 electric seconds the car sheds restraint. Power surges instantly, a controlled explosion of acceleration. In less than 10 seconds, the speedometer was brushing 200 kilometers per hour (124 miles per hour) — delivered not with chaos, but with an almost unnerving composure.

The Magma only takes 10.9 seconds to go from zero to 200 kilometers per hour, with a top speed of 264 kilometers per hour. In Boost mode, the dual motors unleash up to 650 horsepower. I only regret that I did not have the stretch of road to see it all the way through.

The test drive course also included a series of winding bends — and despite a car that weighs over 2 tons, there was no ungainly lurching, no sense of the body lagging behind the steering input.

High-performance cars with stiff, lowered suspensions can feel harsh on rough roads, making every bump more noticeable. The Magma, however, softens the impact without losing the sense of connection to the road — a balance that feels intentional.

Adding another layer to the theatrics is its Virtual Gear Shift system, which, when using the paddle shifters, drivers can simulate stepped gear changes along with an artificial engine sound.

But as much as one might wish to end the drive on that crescendo, reservations remain. Attention to detail alone does not automatically amount to greatness. And when asked whether the Magma fulfills the elemental promise embedded in the words "high performance," I find it difficult to answer without hesitation.

Perhaps Genesis, in launching its first performance model, tried to accomplish too much at once. In attempting to check every conceivable box, the car risks diluting the singular, almost primal identity traditionally associated with the genre.

When one thinks of a high-performance car, certain images come to mind: low-slung proportions, mechanical rawness, a sense of barely restrained aggression. The question is whether the Magma fully lives up to that most basic expectation.

Above all, it's an SUV. Unlike the storied performance sedans and coupes that built the reputations of Eur...

This article is by Woo Ji-won and read by an artificial voice.

[INTERVIEW]

In a fiercely competitive city full of top-notch five-star hotels, Fairmont Ambassador Seoul has chosen a different tactic: expanding accessibility while redefining exclusivity.

"You are the new baby," said Franck Loison, the hotel's general manager, during a recent interview with Korea JoongAng Daily at the property. "You need to make your own name."

Fairmont Ambassador Seoul opened five years ago in the busy business hub of Yeouido in Yeoungdeungpo District, western Seoul, joining the ranks of Seoul's five-star hotels.

The hotel is part of Accor, which operates a multitiered portfolio ranging from economy to luxury brands. Fairmont sits at the very top of that hierarchy — a positioning that comes with strict standards, but also room to interpret what luxury should feel like.

"At the end, you cannot oblige them to pay a penalty because they bring their pizza in the room," Loison said. "It's a bit cheap to do that. And after all, you upset them and then they don't come back." The hotel does not charge extra for pool access either.

Loison has also pushed to make the hotel feel more accessible, emphasizing that five-star hotels are not only for the "rich and famous." Last year, the hotel sold scones and baguettes for 1,000 won (70 cents) at its cafe to mark its fourth anniversary.

"Sometimes, people are scared to come to five-star because they think it's super expensive. But you can come for a coffee, a pastry or bread. You can use the toilet, sit in a nice chair, use the Wi-Fi. You are welcome and it's not necessarily very much expensive.

"It's not because we're desperate," he added. "It's to show that we are affordable. See for everyone that this space isn't only for the rich and famous."

"It was the first hotel that did its grand opening online," said Loison. The hotel opened in 2021, at the peak of the Covid-19 pandemic. "It was basically a Zoom call. It wasn't the best time to open a hotel."

In its early days, Fairmont Ambassador Seoul relied almost entirely on domestic demand, with couples filling its rooms for staycations. "Ninety-five percent of the guests at that time were Korean."

As international travel resumed, the hotel focused on drawing guests from nearby shopping complexes such as IFC Mall, home to major corporate tenants including Apple and IBM Korea, as well as The Hyundai Seoul, now one of Korea's trendiest shopping destinations.

The hotel has since actively collaborated with luxury brands launching at the complex, an approach Loison said helped "drive traffic and interest."

"International travelers come and stay with us and talk about it," Loison said. International customers now account for about half of the hotel's occupancy. "I think this year will be 50, 50."

Sponsoring and hosting high-profile sports teams, such Newcastle United and last year, MLB superstar Shohei Ohtani's team, the Los Angeles Dodgers, have also boosted visibility.

This gradual rise in awareness is what Loison says he is most proud of during his three years at the hotel. "We can see now that people are more aware of this brand and this destination, and I think that's one of our success."

With 28 years of experience in the hotel industry — spent exclusively in Asia — Loison, who joined Fairmont Ambassador Seoul in January 2023, says there is one thing that he also came to prioritize specifically for the Korean market: precision.

Korean customers, he said, tend to follow policies strictly.

"If it's written, the check in time, check out time, if the price is like this, if the room is like this, it has to be like this."

That level of precision, he said, works well — as long as hotels are equally clear in their communication.

"We need to be very specific," he said. "But at the end it's great because it works."

"It takes time to build a reputation. [...] We will keep pushing our reputation, guest experience and our F&B outlets."

To that end, the hotel is trying ...

Park Chul-wan

The author is a professor of Department of Smart Automotive Engineering and Future Mobility Master's Program at Seojeong University.

The future is approaching faster than expected. Advanced electrified humanoids are being discussed as a solution to structural labor shortages in manufacturing, logistics and caregiving.

Policy discussions are already underway. President Lee Jae Myung recently addressed labor-management tensions over humanoid deployment, saying that "the massive wheel that is coming cannot be avoided."

Even so, safety must take priority over economic gains. Introducing humanoids into high-density environments such as assembly lines requires trust in human-robot interaction.

In this context, Isaac Asimov's "Three Laws of Robotics" (1942) — protecting humans, obeying orders and preserving themselves — are often cited as a minimum framework for safety, responsibility and control. These three issues must be addressed before large-scale deployment.

The first is the effectiveness of human protection. In assembly environments where falling parts and sudden worker movements are common, it remains difficult to fully ensure that physical AI systems can detect risks and respond accurately in real time.

The second is the ambiguity of command compliance. Instructions such as "work quickly but safely" are contextual for humans but represent conflicting computational goals for machines. If productivity and safety clash without clear priorities, the risk of hesitation, shutdown or malfunction increases.

The third issue concerns self-protection and liability. If a system halts to prevent damage, responsibility for production losses is unclear. It has yet to be determined whether manufacturers or operators should bear the costs.

These challenges must be resolved first. Rather than accelerating deployment, authorities should establish safety standards and accountability frameworks in advance. Asimov's principles must be translated into concrete engineering requirements such as sensor accuracy, response speed and reliable emergency stop systems.

Labor transition measures should also accompany deployment, including retraining, job placement support and data governance rules. Innovation pushed forward simply because the technology is ready risks deepening conflict.

Advanced humanoids differ fundamentally from simple service robots. The fact that they are needed does not mean they are ready for immediate use. This is especially true in the automotive industry, where humans and robots work closely together.

The question facing Korean society is not when to introduce humanoids but how to control them safely. Korea must move beyond using humanoids only to improve productivity and instead build a full ecosystem spanning design, manufacturing and operation. The foundation is not technological optimism but trust — public confidence that the technology can be safely managed.

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.

During Japan's recent House of Representatives election campaign, visits to Tokyo, Yokohama and Yokosuka offered a close look at the political mood. Conversations with university professors, students and ordinary citizens in restaurants and shops suggested a clear trend. Even before arriving in Japan, campaign footage online pointed to a decisive victory for Prime Minister Sanae Takaichi.

Takaichi captured voters with a confident and consistent vision. Her habit of starting work at 3 a.m. drew some criticism, but the image of personal dedication reinforced a style of charismatic leadership. Since entering politics in 1993, she has accumulated extensive campaign experience, while her background as a broadcaster has helped her deliver concise and persuasive messages.

At campaign stops across the country, thousands gathered wherever Takaichi appeared. The appeal did not come from abstract ideology but from promises that addressed everyday concerns. She pledged to protect people's livelihoods and improve conditions in health care, welfare, education and employment while safeguarding the nation's future. These themes resonated in a country where prolonged low growth and a weak yen have pushed up import prices and heightened anxiety about living standards.

Takaichi has framed these concerns within the slogan of building a "strong and prosperous Japan." Her repeated warning that "it will be too late if we do not act now" amounted to a call for national redesign. The result was a landslide, with the ruling Liberal Democratic Party securing 316 seats. Many voters appeared to be endorsing Takaichi's leadership itself rather than the party alone, reflecting a belief that decisive leadership is needed to break out of long stagnation.

What, then, does a "strong Japan" mean in policy terms? Since the collapse of the asset bubble in the early 1990s, Japan has struggled through what is often called its "lost three decades." Structural reforms have been attempted repeatedly. The Ryutaro Hashimoto administration in 1996 pursued administrative reform and financial liberalization. Prime Minister Junichiro Koizumi, who took office in 2001, promoted "reform without sacred cows," including the disposal of bad loans and the privatization of Japan Post. While politically significant, these efforts delivered only limited momentum for long-term growth.

The Shinzo Abe government, launched in 2012, introduced "Abenomics," built on monetary easing, fiscal expansion and structural reform. The policies helped lift stock prices and improve employment, but their impact on raising Japan's potential growth rate remained modest.

Takaichi's economic approach, sometimes described as "Sanaenomics," follows the broad direction of Abenomics but differs in emphasis. Earlier fiscal spending often focused on public works and infrastructure as short-term stimulus. The current strategy places greater weight on state-led investment in strategic industries.

The government has identified 17 priority sectors, including semiconductors, artificial intelligence, quantum technology, next-generation batteries and the integration of defense and advanced manufacturing. Large-scale public investment is expected. The aim is not simply to boost demand but to reshape industrial structure and restore competitiveness in high-value sectors where Japan has lost ground to Korea, Taiwan and China.

In this sense, Japan is moving toward a national industrial strategy comparable to China's "Made in China 2025" or the United States' recent push to rebuild domestic manufacturing. The effort reflects a shift toward economic security and technological sovereignty as central policy goals.

Changes are also likely in the security sphere. As the United States calls on allies to shoulder greater defense responsibilities, Japan is accelerating legal and institutional reforms while expanding military capabilities. For Korea, this creates a complex...

The author is a special appointment professor at the Graduate School of Economics at Yonsei University.

Rapid technological advances and shifting geopolitical and economic conditions have repeatedly upended forecasts about the future in recent years. The pace of AI development has exceeded expert expectations, while intensifying geopolitical tensions are reshaping the global economic order. The reorganization of supply chains, driven increasingly by security concerns rather than efficiency, has added to the burden facing businesses and policymakers. Technological competitiveness and industrial capacity are now directly linked to national security.

In a world where uncertainty has become constant and divisions are deepening, the World Economic Forum released a report ahead of this year's Davos meeting titled "Four Futures of the New Economy: Geoeconomics and Technology to 2030." Based on a survey of global business leaders, the report found that 72 percent identified advances in AI as the most important force reshaping the global economy over the next five years, while 52 percent pointed to geopolitical fragmentation. It outlined four scenarios for how these forces could transform the global landscape and urged companies to prepare for structural change.

A key insight from the report is that the speed of technological progress does not refer to the development pace of leading technology firms alone. Rather, it reflects how quickly and deeply AI and related technologies spread across economies, organizations and institutions. The economic impact of AI, humanoids and other emerging technologies depends less on innovation itself than on how broadly they are adopted. Ultimately, this is determined by the flexibility of labor markets, employment structures, government systems and corporate organizations.

AI is already approaching the status of a global public good, and the gaps in models and algorithms are narrowing rapidly. In the AI era, differences in national and corporate performance will be shaped less by technological leadership than by institutional capacity to absorb and utilize new technologies.

History offers a clear precedent. Although the Industrial Revolution began in Britain, Germany and the United States later emerged as the primary beneficiaries. Their success reflected their ability to deploy new technologies widely and deeply in production, supported by economic institutions and social structures that could adapt to change.

The AI initiatives being pursued by the Lee Jae Myung administration — including large-scale investment, securing GPUs, training AI talent, strengthening legal frameworks and reinforcing a presidential-level strategy body — are necessary steps. AI infrastructure requires substantial upfront investment and cannot be built by the private sector alone. Computing resources, skilled personnel and data utilization are all strategic assets that must be addressed at the national level. In this sense, the government's diagnosis of the challenge is appropriate and its policy commitment is encouraging.

Yet a more fundamental task remains overlooked. Korea is unlikely to lead global AI development in the way the United States or China does. The realistic goal should be to become a country that applies AI quickly, widely and effectively.

Koreans are among the fastest adopters of AI tools, but the critical question is whether businesses and institutions can integrate these technologies at the organizational level. Even with ample computing resources and sovereign AI capabilities, economic impact will be limited if new technologies are not embedded rapidly into workflows, production systems and management structures.

The AI era demands more than incremental efficiency gains. It requires redesigning work itself, restructuring organizations and reallocating human resources. In societies where adjustments to employment structures, job definitions, organizational boundaries and compensation systems are const...