A license to practice law opens many doors in life. A lawyer can choose to open a private practice, to work in business, to teach as a law professor, to work as a prosecutor protecting society from criminals, to work at an NGO protecting the environment or the less fortunate, or, for the chosen few, to work as a judge.

Many lawyers often aspire to a judgeship as the position is one of the more honorable ways to use their legal education and license. In America judges are referred to as “your honor” in the courtroom. However, these days in South Korea it seems that the judicial profession is becoming more and more dishonorable.

The sad thing is that the loss of honor for the Korean judiciary is the fault of the Korean judges. For many years the public has believed there is a practice whereby judges grant leniency to former colleagues. This practice is called Jeon-Kwan-Ye-Woo. Literally the term means to grant an honorable reception to one who held a former post; however the colloquial meaning refers to the special dispensation granted by the court to former judges.

The public believes that an individual who is fortunate enough to hire a former judge will win their case regardless of merit. Korean judges strongly deny that this practice exists; however, the perception and the terminology do exist. Even law students voice their concerns about competing against these former judges in the future. These students complain that former judges monopolize the private practice of law to the detriment of lawyers who were not fortunate enough to first work as a judge.

Whether or not Jeon-Kwan-Ye-Woo exists, other recent actions by judges also contribute to the judiciary’s loss of honor. When judges receive gifts of wine and expensive dinners from lawyers appearing before their court it raises the aura of corruption and reduces their honor.

When the court makes rulings in high profile cases, such as the Lone Star case, which are perceived in the international press as having a government bias it reduces the standing of the Korean judiciary.

When judges demonstrate clear bias against foreigners involved in divorce cases by telling the foreigner not to come to court because the judge doesn’t want to listen to another language and doesn’t want to have to deal with the requirements of having a translator it reduces the honor of the profession.

And when judges engage in political discourse and attempt to influence international agreements that are the exclusive province of the executive and legislative branches, such as the KORUS free trade agreement, their impartiality comes into question.

Compounding the effect of this dishonorable behavior is the nagging question of the actual role of judges in South Korea. While the Constitutional Court and the Supreme Court of Korea often make influential decisions that help shape Korean democracy, many district court judges meekly follow the recommendation of the prosecutor.

Up until 2009 the conviction rate in Korea for criminal trials was around 99 percent. Recently the rate dropped to 92 percent but only because the Constitutional Court found that certain criminal convictions for violations of some traffic laws were unconstitutional. This ludicrously high conviction rate demonstrates that the true power lies in the prosecutorial office and not with the judges.

Further in civil cases judges often abdicate their judicial responsibility by deferring to agreements between the lawyers instead of determining the actual merits of the parties’ cases. Perhaps this meekness is attributable to the fact that Korea has been hiring judges who have no prior legal experience.

Fortunately for the Korean judiciary the ability to reclaim their honor is within their power. Although problematic from a constitutional right to work view, instituting a ban on retired judges from practicing before their former colleagues would help reduce the public’s perception of favoritism. Perhaps addressing this issue contractually by requiring prospective judges to sign non-competition agreements as a condition of employment would address any constitutional issues.

Second, the Korean judiciary should focus on selecting judges not from recent graduates but from attorneys with decades of practical experience. These individuals would often be more senior than the attorneys practicing in their court and, therefore, would be less likely to bow to any cultural pressure. Further, after years of successful law practice these individuals should have the financial wherewithal to be immune to any bribes that may be proffered. And finally, due to age, these judges would be unlikely to return to private practice after their judgeship, thus effectively ending the public’s perception of Jeon-Kwan-Ye-Woo.

Finally, and perhaps most important for Korea’s international reputation, the Korean judiciary should select individuals from within their own ranks who have demonstrated an ability for multicultural sensitivity. These judges would be assigned to handle any cases involving foreigners or Koreans of mixed ethnicity and they should be trained to understand and cope with the difficulties and misunderstandings that often arise in multicultural situations.

Enacting these changes would be a positive step towards reclaiming the honor that once enshrined the judicial profession. Ignoring these problems will merely solidify the international and domestic perception of corruption and dishonor in the Korean judiciary.

By Daniel Fiedler

Daniel Fiedler is a professor of law at Wonkwang University. He also holds an honorary position as the lawyer representative for international marriages in Namwon. ― Ed.