By Sung Soo Eric Kim
During the 2026 New Year's Eve countdown in Dallas, two K-pop songs were played: "APT." by Rose and Bruno Mars, and "Golden" from "KPop Demon Hunters." This past Halloween, a curious scene unfolded in American neighborhoods. Among children dressed as superheroes or cartoon characters, some were dressed as figures from "KPop Demon Hunters," singing their songs as they went door-to-door. What stood out was not the children. It was that parents and neighbors knew the songs as well. "KPop Demon Hunters" marks a symbolic transition from K-culture to the era of Koreanism.
Koreanism is an early concept that only a few are beginning to define. My definition of Koreanism parallels Japan’s Japonism in the 19th century. It suggests that Korean culture should no longer be consumed as a “wave,” but instead become a system that shapes global taste and values. By this, I mean a system in which Korean culture influences global culture and the economy as a broadly accepted asset, generating soft power and economic returns.
K-pop has been globally successful for years. World tours sold out. Songs topped charts. Yet much of that success remained concentrated among younger audiences and devoted fans. For many middle-aged and older audiences, K-pop was something they were aware of but did not really engage with, much like any other passing pop trend. It was visible, but it had not fully entered everyday life.
If Psy opened the door to K-pop and the idol system helped it grow, "KPop Demon Hunters" carried it across generational lines. Its appearance in a Macy’s parade in New York was symbolic, but the more consequential shift happened quietly inside homes and neighborhoods. Through children, K-pop entered homes. Through children singing along at home, it crossed generations. This was not just another hit. It was the moment K-pop began to settle into daily life.
That is why "KPop Demon Hunters" should be seen not simply as another success story, but as the beginning of genuine cultural diffusion, one that is transforming K-culture into a durable regime of economic power.
However, "KPop Demon Hunters" also raises an important question. Not whether it is successful, but whether it is Korean-made, and more importantly, whether that distinction still matters.
"KPop Demon Hunters" was distributed by Netflix and produced by Sony Pictures Animation. This global structure enabled its creation and worldwide distribution. Yet the structure that enabled that spread, ownership, financing and distribution, is not controlled by Korea. In the era of Koreanism, Korea does not necessarily need to create all K-cultural content. However, Korea remains structurally weak in controlling global ownership and distribution, particularly in screen-based content.
Japan offers a valuable comparison. Building on the legacy of Japonism in the nineteenth century, when Japanese aesthetics reshaped Western art and influenced painters such as Vincent van Gogh, Japan later pursued a strategy of cultural dominance through its own creations. Well into the 1990s, Studio Ghibli’s animations and games, such as Nintendo’s Super Mario, allowed Japan to project cultural influence globally through content it directly created and owned.
In the 2000s, Japanese companies increasingly shifted strategy. Rather than relying solely on “made in Japan” production, they began to control larger segments of the global cultural value chain, including finance, distribution and IP management for global content.
The strategy for cultivating Koreanism can learn from this trajectory. In the era of Koreanism, whether content is made in Korea becomes less important than how much Korea controls the ownership and value capture of Korean and global cultural content, even for content that is not made in Korea.
The ultimate goal of Koreanism should not be cultural dominance driven only by Korean artists and talent leading content creation. Instead, the goal should be a system in which global creators can participate in producing K-cultural content, while Korea retains meaningful ownership, governance and economic control. Ultimately, Korean ownership and control over global cultural content, not just Korean-made content, should define the strategic horizon.
Seen this way, "KPop Demon Hunters" is both a triumph and a warning. As the fantasy of success fades, Korea must rethink its cultural and industrial strategy and how to shape the era of Koreanism not merely as soft power but as a sustainable engine of future economic growth.
Sung Soo Eric Kim is an expert on AI and semiconductor strategy, with professorial appointments at leading business schools at KAIST, Keio University and National Taiwan University. He also researches how cultural dominance shapes technological leadership and global power. His views expressed in this article are his own. -- Ed.
christory@heraldcorp.com
