In Korea, autumn is ― more accurately, used to be ― called the season for reading for its pleasantly cool weather and extended night hours. Around this time of year, many events and programs were arranged by the news media and publishers to encourage people to read more books to deepen their thinking and improve their quality of life.

In recent years, however, the intellectual description of autumn has hardly been heard of and efforts to boost the season for reading have dwindled. This fall, it seems that this valuable practice for Koreans, who are increasingly pushing aside books in their everyday lives, has been buried in oblivion.

Nowadays, taking the place of the muffled voices for more reading are the scenes of people ― women, men, young and old ― playing a smartphone game named “Anipang” at any possible time, in any possible place. Anipang, released two months ago, has since recorded more than 17 million downloads.

Concerns over the decline in reading have been raised repeatedly but to no avail. Many Koreans now appear simply too accustomed to the criticism that they read too little.

But certain figures still should embarrass and worry us.

According to data from the Seoul Metropolitan Government, an average Seoul citizen reads 9.97 books a year, compared to more than 60 in most member states of the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development. A 2010 study by a local publication research institute showed about 67 percent of Koreans aged 15 or older read more than one book during the preceding year, far below the corresponding figures of 87 percent in Sweden, 84 percent in the Netherlands, 82 percent in Britain, 79 percent in Finland and 73 percent in the U.S.

In a survey of 3,001 elementary and secondary students in Korea last year, 83.8 percent replied they read at least one book during a semester. The proportion was the lowest since 1993 when the poll started. But experts note the actual figure may be far lower, considering many students tend to exaggerate their reading habits.

It is claimed that there is a direct connection between the increase in the number of students having a cell phone and the decline in reading. Maybe so, but Korean students have already been driven into fierce competition to gain higher academic scores to enter a prestigious university, finding little time to read books unrelated to school curriculum.

Their parents and other adults will also find it hard to persuade children to read books rather than spending time playing computer and smartphone games, while they themselves kill time by doing the same.

The father of Bill Gates, founder of the software giant Microsoft, used to take his baby boy to a neighborhood library and then saw the boy go by himself to the place three blocks from his house as soon as he grew big enough to walk. This story may be an example far from the reality in Korean society but should not remain as such forever.

Koreans must find the value of reading again. Though they live in one of the most wired societies in the world, it still requires a certain depth and width of knowledge gained through reading for them to be good citizens who could fulfill their talents and choose the right leaders. A great deal of reading guided by a qualified teacher is also the foundation for educating students to be more creative and thus better prepared for the future.

It should also be noted that while one’s willingness to read is important, forging a reading-friendly environment is also crucial. From this viewpoint, efforts should be doubled to build more libraries across the country ― hopefully to put every resident within a walking distance of the facilities ― and to organize various programs aimed at establishing a firm reading culture. The slogan of autumn as reading season, which has revealed Koreans’ poor habit of reading in a paradoxical way, should not be allowed to fade away but be further trumpeted.

One of the reasons “Anipang” appeals to the Korean psyche so much is that it shows not only a player’s score but also where he or she stands compared to acquaintances, fueling their competitive spirit. It would be ideal for Koreans to vent their competition fever toward reading more books and becoming more intellectual.