South Korea’s education system, a key driver of the nation’s economic success, is facing increased criticism ranging from failing to meet the demands of a modern labor market to contributing to worsening mental health among the young.
Korea has the highest share of college graduates in the developed world and its citizens’ educational zeal has been praised by other countries. The current system helped the nation rise from the ashes of war in the early 1950s to become a manufacturing powerhouse.
But a deeper inspection of the education sector highlights an obsession with “glamor” colleges at the expense of real-world skills, a lack of ongoing learning to remain competitive and an industry of cram schools that are blamed for rising teenage suicides.
Photo: AP
Korea receives the lowest labor productivity return from education spending in the Organization for Economic Co-operation and Development. It spends 40 percent more on a typical teenage student than Ireland yet obtains 60 percent less in gross domestic product per employee.
The bulk of Korean spending on education goes to hagwons, businesses that instruct children on preparing for tests and exams via intensive coaching. These tutoring firms have swelled into a 23.4 trillion won (US$17 billion) industry by promising better exam results.
Hagwons for college admission normally charge hundreds of dollars a month. Enrollment begins early, with one English-teaching hagwon for kindergarten-age kids costing US$25,000 a year, five times the average tuition fee of a college, according to lawmaker Min Hyung-bae.
Korean students are regularly ranked among the world’s best, but soon after they join the workforce, their cognitive abilities begin to slide at the fastest pace in the OECD.
Researchers cite a dearth of ongoing training, as well as a lack of competition and autonomy, among reasons workers are unable to maintain their edge.
Korea has the worst mismatch between labor-market needs and job skills in the developed world, with half of the nation’s university graduates ending up in roles that have little to do with their degrees.
Part of the reason is Koreans’ “golden ticket syndrome” that prioritizes entry to a prestigious university over attending a school that would help develop their lifelong passion and career, an OECD report found.
Nearly two-thirds of Korean firms say the skills they seek actually have little to do with whether an applicant is a college graduate, according to Day1Company, an online campus operator. Korea is the only OECD member where the correlation between course taken in tertiary education and employment is essentially zero.
Yet rising numbers of vocational students believe their next step must be attending college rather than joining the workforce. That likely worsens the training-job mismatch and erodes productivity. Those same students blame a culture that unfairly favors college graduates in both promotion and pay.
The share of vocational students is already low, at 18 percent last year, compared with an OECD average of 44 percent, according to Kim Tai-gi, a labor economist.
Yet attending college doesn’t guarantee social mobility. The chances of moving up the social ladder have been on the decline as the share of college graduates has risen, surveys show.
An obsession with college has fueled the cost of cram schools and private tutoring, meaning many couples simply can’t afford this extra education, making them reluctant to have children if they can’t provide them with the best opportunities.
Korea last year shattered its own record for the world’s lowest fertility rate and its population is projected to halve by the end of the century.
Stress over college entrance is a leading cause of teenage suicide, and also tends to correlate with the number of hours students spend at hagwons. Last year, the suicide rate jumped by 10.1 percent among teenagers, the biggest increase among all generations.
Policy makers are increasingly aware of the problems in the education system, but reforms have made little progress.
“Korea is caught in a trap of its own success,” said Ban Ga-woon, an economist at the Korea Research Institute for Vocational Education & Training. “Education has played a crucial role in bringing the nation this far, but may now be sabotaging its economic future.”
Last week gave us the droll little comedy of People’s Republic of China’s (PRC) consul general in Osaka posting a threat on X in response to Japanese Prime Minister Sanae Takaichi saying to the Diet that a Chinese attack on Taiwan may be an “existential threat” to Japan. That would allow Japanese Self Defence Forces to respond militarily. The PRC representative then said that if a “filthy neck sticks itself in uninvited, we will cut it off without a moment’s hesitation. Are you prepared for that?” This was widely, and probably deliberately, construed as a threat to behead Takaichi, though it
Nov. 17 to Nov. 23 When Kanori Ino surveyed Taipei’s Indigenous settlements in 1896, he found a culture that was fading. Although there was still a “clear line of distinction” between the Ketagalan people and the neighboring Han settlers that had been arriving over the previous 200 years, the former had largely adopted the customs and language of the latter. “Fortunately, some elders still remember their past customs and language. But if we do not hurry and record them now, future researchers will have nothing left but to weep amid the ruins of Indigenous settlements,” he wrote in the Journal of
Even after years in business, weekend tables here can be booked out a month in advance. The price point far exceeds its competitors. Granted, expectations are soaringly high, but something here failed to hit the high notes. There are a few telltale signs that a restaurant relies solely on outstanding food to create the experience, no gimmicks or distractions needed. La Mole is such a restaurant. The atmosphere is food-forward, with an open kitchen center stage. Our tables are simple; no candles, no dim lighting, no ambient music. The menu is brief, and our waiter directs most
If China attacks, will Taiwanese be willing to fight? Analysts of certain types obsess over questions like this, especially military analysts and those with an ax to grind as to whether Taiwan is worth defending, or should be cut loose to appease Beijing. Fellow columnist Michael Turton in “Notes from Central Taiwan: Willing to fight for the homeland” (Nov. 6, page 12) provides a superb analysis of this topic, how it is used and manipulated to political ends and what the underlying data shows. The problem is that most analysis is centered around polling data, which as Turton observes, “many of these