Recently the term “affluenza” has come into use all over the world. According to “Affluenza: The All-Consuming Epidemic,” the term is a portmanteau of “affluence” and “influenza,” which indicates a contagious condition of “anxiety and waste, resulting from the dogged pursuit of more.” In “Affluenza: Too Much Is Not Enough,” Clive Hamilton and Richard Denniss argue that affluenza causes “luxury fever,” “psychological distress” and the tendency to “self-medicate with excessive alcohol consumption.” Just like influenza, affluenza is undoubtedly a socially and psychologically transmitted disease.

Indeed, affluenza is an infectious epidemic that plagues our society by making people feel unhappy and discontent. These days, people frequently complain, “They say the economy is getting better. Why, then, am I not becoming happier?” As psychologist Oliver James points out, “The more unequal a society, the greater the unhappiness of its citizens.” The problem is that if you think of your society as an unequal one and thus are not satisfied with your current situation, you will inevitably end up being unhappy and discontent. And if you compare yourself with affluent people and consequently feel that you are relatively poor, you will be frustrated and miserable forever.

Unfortunately, quite a few people in today’s Korean society carry such symptoms. According to a recent newspaper report, South Korea ranked the lowest among OECD countries on a life satisfaction survey index. Comparing themselves with others constantly, many Koreans feel discouraged and despondent. Under the circumstances, it is only natural that they harbor grudges against the rich and privileged, and tend to blame society for social inequality. And giving up hope, they sadly lose motivation to climb the social ladder.

Wealthy people, too, seriously lack motivation. If you have enough money to be as snug as a bug in a rug, you do not need to accomplish anything to prove yourself. Also affected by affluenza, these people assume that wealth buys privilege and thus are unable to link their bad behavior to consequences. Last year, there was an intriguing case in North Texas: a teenager was arrested for drunk driving, killing four pedestrians and injuring eleven. But his lawyers successfully defended him by claiming that he suffered from affluenza and thus needed rehabilitation, not prison.

In Korea, we, too, find the two types of affluenza sufferers everywhere: those who are affluent and languid, and those who spend lavishly as if they were affluent. Indeed, if you are rich, not just well-off, but really rich, why would you bother to do anything eagerly when you can enjoy your life comfortably? By the same token, if you are seeking excessive wealth in a consumer society, are you not likely to have “luxury fever” and spend conspicuously to quench your thirst for vanity? These days, young Koreans unhesitatingly buy luxury import cars or expensive designer clothes instead of saving for a rainy day.

Whether rich or poor, we all seem to think that money is the most important factor for happiness. But we are wrong. We should place family, well-being and contentment above income. Then we will be able to enjoy our lives in contentment and happiness. And we should have strong motivation to improve ourselves, instead of simply spending extravagantly in order to burn off stress or show off.

When I was young, South Korea was one of the poorest countries on earth. So I had strong inner motivation to escape from the overwhelmingly bleak reality ― military dictatorship, ideological warfare and inherited poverty ― and soar into a brighter future. Like the protagonists of Yi Sang’s “Wings” or James Joyce’s “A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man,” I spread the atlas in front of me every day and dreamed of flying away.

On the map the Korean Peninsula was so small that I desperately wanted to go abroad to learn more in a broader world. Whenever I found more advanced, affluent countries in the atlas, my heart leaped. Instead of resenting rich people, I applied for and won a Fulbright scholarship which enabled me to study in the States. Had it not been for the strong motivation that inspired and sustained me, I could not have become what I am today.

These days, I frequently hear a cry of despair in Korean society: “If you are not lucky enough to have a rich father, your future is ruined permanently,” or “If you are not well-off, you cannot possibly acquire good scores on English tests such as TOEIC or TOEFL.” Maybe I am an incorrigible idealist, but I do not believe in such determinism. Of course, things have changed now and if you are rich you can afford to study at a prestigious English academy or hire a native speaker of English as a tutor. Nonetheless, even without taking such shortcuts, you can still become a fluent speaker of English, if only you try hard. As long as you have dreams, hopes and strong motivation, you can surely change your destiny.

By Kim Seong-kon

Kim Seong-kon is a professor of English at Seoul National University and president of the Literature Translation Institute of Korea. ― Ed.