[Kim Seong-kon] Living in the age of ‘difference’ and ‘crossover’
By 김케빈도현Published : May 3, 2016 - 18:06
Since the 1960s, literary critics have preached the importance of “difference” and “crossover.” Inspired by postmodernism, they have urged us to respect differences and to be open to crossovers in every sphere of our lives.
As a result, people all over the world now value cultural differences and ethnic diversity, abandoning the either/or mentality and embracing a both/and way of thinking. As postmodern perceptions spread, the world is changing rapidly and radically.
Alas! Only Korea seems to have lagged behind, still stubbornly unchanged. For example, many Koreans still do not want to acknowledge the differences in wealth and class in our society. It is only natural that in a capitalist society, financial and class distinctions such as rich and poor, and privileged and underprivileged exist. However, we are resentful toward the rich and the privileged, and try to deprive them of their wealth and privileges. We wrongfully think of it as social justice and democracy.
We are also reluctant to acknowledge the differences in people’s abilities. Thus, we demand equal salaries and lifetime employment guarantees whether we are competent or not. We also demand an equal share of the pie regardless of our contributions or efforts because we believe all people are equal. But that phrase means all people are equal in human integrity, not in individual abilities, wealth or social status. In a capitalist society, your salary can be reduced or you can even be fired if you are incompetent at the workplace. In Korean society, however, people do not tolerate it, criticizing it as inhumane.
Strictly speaking, therefore, what we pursue is not so much equality, per se, as sameness. When we mutter, “How come he is rich and privileged while I am not?” we, in fact, complain, “I want to be the same as that lucky guy who was born with a silver spoon in his mouth.” When we grumble, “Why is he promoted and tenured while I am not?” we are actually saying, “I should be treated in the same way as he is, regardless of my qualifications.”
Perhaps that is why we are opposed to the policy of giving extra credit to people who have served in the military when they apply for a government position. We think that they should be treated in the same way as everyone else, even though they spent two years serving the nation, while others got a job and made money. People from other countries, which treat army veterans with the utmost respect, cannot possibly understand such strange psychology.
The problem is that our tendency of pursuing sameness makes us intolerable to those who are different from us. Indeed, we divide ourselves into factions and antagonize others who are different from us, even treating them as our enemies. Such an attitude leads us to believe “We are always right and all others wrong.” Naturally, we tend to flock together and are not friendly to people from different territories. Perhaps that is why we frequently ask, “Where are you from?” or “What school did you graduate from?” For the same reason, we tend to shun and discriminate foreigners and outsiders because they are different from us.
A country with little diversity is likely to degenerate into a totalitarian society. In Korea, there are always those who try to force you to drink against your wish. Koreans immediately identify and condemn those who are a black sheep or a wet blanket. In premodern Korea, villagers wrapped such a person with a carpet and beat the person collectively, hiding behind the anonymity of the group. Today this custom has vanished, and yet invisible hostility against those who are different still persists. In order to avoid such antagonism, you should be part of the same community.
In a society of sameness and uniformity, “crossover” is neither welcome nor encouraged. For example, many Koreans are not accustomed to interracial marriage yet, despite the radical social change that has significantly altered Korean society lately. Korean writers, too, are still reluctant to cross the line between pure literature and popular literature. They also have reservations about integrating the techniques of fantasy, science fiction or detective novels into their own works. Scholars of the humanities, too, are reluctant to embrace other disciplines such as science and technology. Korean publishers are also suspicious of e-books because paper books bring them quick money and give them a halo of authenticity. We are hopelessly stuck on the notion of authenticity and purity in this age of hybrid cultures.
The entropy theory warns that if a system culminates in monochromatic uniformity or sameness, it inevitably leads to annihilation. In order to be healthy and to prosper, the system should be full of colorful diversity or different elements.
Indeed, both Hitler’s Nazism and Stalin’s communism perished because they lacked diversity while blindly pursuing uniformity. So will the ultranationalism of some Third World countries. We should nurture and embrace diversity and difference, thereby accomplishing the rainbow coalition. Only then, will Korea have a bright future.
By Kim Seong-kon
Kim Seong-kon is a professor emeritus of English at Seoul National University and president of the Literature Translation Institute of Korea. -- Ed
As a result, people all over the world now value cultural differences and ethnic diversity, abandoning the either/or mentality and embracing a both/and way of thinking. As postmodern perceptions spread, the world is changing rapidly and radically.
Alas! Only Korea seems to have lagged behind, still stubbornly unchanged. For example, many Koreans still do not want to acknowledge the differences in wealth and class in our society. It is only natural that in a capitalist society, financial and class distinctions such as rich and poor, and privileged and underprivileged exist. However, we are resentful toward the rich and the privileged, and try to deprive them of their wealth and privileges. We wrongfully think of it as social justice and democracy.
We are also reluctant to acknowledge the differences in people’s abilities. Thus, we demand equal salaries and lifetime employment guarantees whether we are competent or not. We also demand an equal share of the pie regardless of our contributions or efforts because we believe all people are equal. But that phrase means all people are equal in human integrity, not in individual abilities, wealth or social status. In a capitalist society, your salary can be reduced or you can even be fired if you are incompetent at the workplace. In Korean society, however, people do not tolerate it, criticizing it as inhumane.
Strictly speaking, therefore, what we pursue is not so much equality, per se, as sameness. When we mutter, “How come he is rich and privileged while I am not?” we, in fact, complain, “I want to be the same as that lucky guy who was born with a silver spoon in his mouth.” When we grumble, “Why is he promoted and tenured while I am not?” we are actually saying, “I should be treated in the same way as he is, regardless of my qualifications.”
Perhaps that is why we are opposed to the policy of giving extra credit to people who have served in the military when they apply for a government position. We think that they should be treated in the same way as everyone else, even though they spent two years serving the nation, while others got a job and made money. People from other countries, which treat army veterans with the utmost respect, cannot possibly understand such strange psychology.
The problem is that our tendency of pursuing sameness makes us intolerable to those who are different from us. Indeed, we divide ourselves into factions and antagonize others who are different from us, even treating them as our enemies. Such an attitude leads us to believe “We are always right and all others wrong.” Naturally, we tend to flock together and are not friendly to people from different territories. Perhaps that is why we frequently ask, “Where are you from?” or “What school did you graduate from?” For the same reason, we tend to shun and discriminate foreigners and outsiders because they are different from us.
A country with little diversity is likely to degenerate into a totalitarian society. In Korea, there are always those who try to force you to drink against your wish. Koreans immediately identify and condemn those who are a black sheep or a wet blanket. In premodern Korea, villagers wrapped such a person with a carpet and beat the person collectively, hiding behind the anonymity of the group. Today this custom has vanished, and yet invisible hostility against those who are different still persists. In order to avoid such antagonism, you should be part of the same community.
In a society of sameness and uniformity, “crossover” is neither welcome nor encouraged. For example, many Koreans are not accustomed to interracial marriage yet, despite the radical social change that has significantly altered Korean society lately. Korean writers, too, are still reluctant to cross the line between pure literature and popular literature. They also have reservations about integrating the techniques of fantasy, science fiction or detective novels into their own works. Scholars of the humanities, too, are reluctant to embrace other disciplines such as science and technology. Korean publishers are also suspicious of e-books because paper books bring them quick money and give them a halo of authenticity. We are hopelessly stuck on the notion of authenticity and purity in this age of hybrid cultures.
The entropy theory warns that if a system culminates in monochromatic uniformity or sameness, it inevitably leads to annihilation. In order to be healthy and to prosper, the system should be full of colorful diversity or different elements.
Indeed, both Hitler’s Nazism and Stalin’s communism perished because they lacked diversity while blindly pursuing uniformity. So will the ultranationalism of some Third World countries. We should nurture and embrace diversity and difference, thereby accomplishing the rainbow coalition. Only then, will Korea have a bright future.
By Kim Seong-kon
Kim Seong-kon is a professor emeritus of English at Seoul National University and president of the Literature Translation Institute of Korea. -- Ed