It is well known that Korean parents who can afford it send their young children to private extracurricular classes, often competitively and fashionably. They are not alone. American parents, too, often send 3 or 4-year-old children to private classes after preschool, such as art class, dance class, violin class or gym class. But there are some crucial differences. In Korea, extracurricular classes typically focus on developing and cultivating individual children’s aptitudes and abilities. In America, however, many after-school classes center on team spirit, collaboration and coalition-building.

In American extracurricular classes, children form several groups, work in teams and cooperate or compete with other teams. As for competition, it is not a matter of life and death, but fun and stimulation. Besides, competition occurs mostly among teams rather than between individuals. In these classes, children learn how teamwork operates. They know that if they perform well or make a mistake, it directly impacts their team. When different teams work harmoniously, the whole class completes a great ensemble, just like an orchestra.

American society, too, bears a resemblance to an orchestra. America consists of diverse races and cultures, and yet in some ways, it exhibits harmony and consonance, just like a grand orchestra. In that sense, we could call America an “orchestra-oriented society.” Unlike children, however, grown-ups often create dissonance due to their personal biases and investment in political campaigns.

Some foreigners call Korea a “group-oriented society.” Perhaps it is the only way to put it in English, but “group-oriented” may not be an accurate term to describe Korean society because “group” is a neutral word, just like “team.” In Korea, however, “group” traditionally implies “faction,” in which birds of the same feathers flock together. In a faction, you are supposed to maintain a low profile and remain inconspicuous, blending with others.

It is convenient when you do something you are not proud of because you can hide behind the group or crowd. Perhaps that is why some of our politicians often do not hesitate to do indecent things, under the excuse of carrying out their party’s policies. They think that their party justifies the disgraceful things they do. Naturally, they do not suffer from a sense of shame or guilt.

The same thing goes for soldiers in uniform. When American war veterans returned from Iraq or Afghanistan, many of them were reported to have suffered from trauma and needed therapy at psychiatric clinics. That phenomenon is closely related to American individualism. Even when wearing a uniform or being part of a group, Americans still seem to think that they are personally responsible for everything they do.

On the other hand, many Korean soldiers seem to suffer less trauma because they tend to think that it is their uniform or the army that is responsible for everything that happens on the battlefield. Perhaps that is why civilians wearing the ROK Reserve Forces uniform for training do not seem to feel particularly guilty, for example, when whistling at young women passing by. It means that when you are in uniform or a group in Korea, your individuality is inconspicuous.

Likewise, when Koreans cheer for their soccer team, they aim for unity wholeheartedly. They enjoy strong ties and companionship with one another. Naturally, neither black sheep nor wet blankets are welcome. Koreans easily become zealots who do not tolerate different opinions. Due to this unique phenomenon, there seems to be no “Lonely Crowd” in Korea.

Traditionally, many Koreans prefer unity to diversity, and therefore, they are proud of their homogeneity, even though it is dubious because the Korean people, too, may in fact be heterogeneous. For this reason, many Koreans are not good at tolerating differences. In the past, for instance, interracial children had a hard time adapting to Korean society. Fortunately, things are much better these days, as the younger generation has changed.

Koreans’ preference for homogeneity is closely linked to their preference for factions. Factions exist virtually in every sphere of Korean society, and Korean people belong to them in one way or another: school factions, hometown factions, or ideological factions, to name but a few. Even in the Korean republic of letters, there are factions, to which Korean writers belong.

One problem with factions is that they divide society. For example, political factions have divided our country sharply. Recently, the New York Times carried an article about the extreme internal division of South Korea by political and ideological factions. Division brings forth social disintegration and, inevitably, wider social disruption.

It would be great if Korea could become an “orchestra-oriented society” so our children could learn the spirit of teamwork, instead of cutthroat competition, and value harmony and collaboration, instead of discordance and segmentation. We also hope that for our children, competition no longer means stepping on others to win and succeed. When the day comes for Korea to change its mentality, we, too, will be sure to hear the harmonious, sublime ensemble of an orchestra in our society.

Kim Seong-kon

Kim Seong-kon is a professor emeritus of English at Seoul National University and a visiting scholar at Dartmouth College. The views e


koreadherald@heradcorp.com