This article is by Cho Jung-woo and read by an artificial voice.

Hundreds explored Mount Namsan and caught the final blaze of autumn foliage during the inaugural Seoul Eco Hiking Festa, which took place over two consecutive weekends and wrapped on Sunday.
The event, hosted by the Seoul Tourism Organization, drew some 600 participants, including more than 130 foreign residents and tourists.
Held on weekend days from Nov. 15 through Sunday, the festival offered four themed experiences, ranging from a hike inspired by the Joseon Dynasty (1392-1910) to a self-challenge walk, family-focused trekking routes and activities featuring yoga sessions in downtown Seoul.
All trails began at Namsangol Hanok Village in Jung District, climbed toward N Seoul Tower and looped back down to the village. Easier courses took participants along the Namsan Sky Forest Path, a new route that opened in late October, instead of bringing them to the tower.

The mountain has gained global attention recently after its appearance in Netflix's hit animated film "KPop Demon Hunters."
The festival emphasized inclusivity, encouraging participation from anyone wishing to enjoy nature in the city, including families with children in strollers.
Four days, four hiking themes
Each day of the event featured a distinct theme. On Nov. 15, the event opened with a performance-filled hike designed to evoke the Joseon Dynasty. Participants were encouraged to wear hanbok, or traditional Korean dress, as they set out on a 5.4-kilometer (3.4-mile) route with about 200 fellow hikers, including families and groups of friends.

Along the trail, actors dressed as yangban - members of the traditional ruling class - and nobi, or enslaved laborers, greeted hikers. Near N Seoul Tower, visitors were treated to a performance of Bukcheong Saja Noreum, a traditional lion mask dance.
Foreign residents were among those who joined the event.
Eva Suvorkina, a university student from Russia, said she hikes around Seoul regularly with friends.
"I just love looking at nature and taking in the scenery," she said as she prepared for the hike on Nov. 15. "It is also a kind of challenge for myself, because I have to really focus, especially when going down."
On the second day, Nov. 16, hikers joined self-guided sessions, choosing between an easier route or the standard hiking course set by the organizers, while sharing their participation on social media.
Saturday, the third day, shifted the focus to families. An easier route was laid out for those with strollers or carrying young children and included walking the newly opened Namsan Haneul Forest Path. To ensure accessibility, a Danurim van provided by the city's Danurim Accessible Tourism Center remained on standby for anyone who needed assistance.

The festival concluded Sunday with yoga-oriented sessions, including lessons on proper posture and walking techniques. After completing the hike, participants gathered for group stretching and yoga.
All successful participants were given certificates recognizing their accomplishments.
More than a hike
Beyond the trails, the festival featured a range of cultural and recreational activities set up in the Namsangol Hanok Village square throughout the four-day event.
In one zone, participants played traditional Korean games - gonggi nori, the Korean equivalent of jacks; jegichagi, shuttlecock-kicking; ddakji chigi, a folded paper-throwing game made famous by "Squid Game"; and tuho, an arrow-throwing game. Nearby, others made miniature versions of gat, the black traditional hats worn by the Saja Boys characters in "KPop Demon Hunters."

On the Joseon-themed opening day, a booth provided free hanbok rentals for participants who had not brought their own. Saturday's family hikers were also invited to a workshop where they crafted camping chairs from recycled banners.
Suvorkina, who participated in the event on Nov. 15, said she finds Seoul's mountains particularly safe.

"Mountains in Korea are equipped w...

This article is by Choi Min-ji and read by an artificial voice.

Most Korean parents may not recognize the name Choi Sin-gyu - but they know his work. From "Beyblade" (1999-) to "Hello Carbot" (2014-) and "Turning Mecard" (2017-), his characters have filled toy chests, TV screens and playgrounds across the country. Now, the man behind those childhood memories has been awarded one of Korea's highest cultural honors.
On Nov. 7, the Ministry of Culture, Sports and Tourism revealed this year's recipients of the Order of Culture Merit. Among the 17 honorees - including novelist Hwang Sok-yong and cellist Yang Sung-won - was 69-year-old Choi, CEO of Choi Creative Lab, who received the Hwagwan Order of Culture Merit.
While it may seem unusual for a business owner to receive a national honor for cultural achievement, almost all Korean parents are familiar with Choi's creations, from buying toys or watching shows with their children.
A first-generation content producer, Choi launched Korea's spinning top craze in the early 2000s by bringing in Japan's "Beyblade" franchise, and then went on to plan and produce hit children's series such as "Hello Carbot" and "Turning Mecard."
He served as executive director for film adaptations of these series, writing and composing the full soundtracks himself. Since 2015, Choi has led Choi Creative Lab, shifting his focus to artist management and music production. He also served as organizing committee chairman for the 32nd Seoul Music Awards in 2023.

When the JoongAng Ilbo met Choi on Thursday at Choi Creative Lab's office in Mok-dong, Yangcheon District, western Seoul, he offered a business card that did not feature his contact details but rather the images of the characters he created - like Pentastorm, the fusion robot from "Hello Carbot," Nachan, the boy hero of "Turning Mecard" and Cherry, a magical girl with mysterious powers. Below the characters was his nickname: "The President of Toys."
"Rather than chasing short-term profit, it was the bold reinvestments I made with the long view in mind that led to this recognition," Choi said, reflecting on his award.
"Korean animation had little staying power in the early 2000s, mainly due to astronomical production costs," he continued. "Even after the success of 'Beyblade,' I couldn't find anyone willing to produce 'Turning Mecard,' so I invested 18 billion won [$12.2 million] of my own money. Reinvestment is key - that's why I always start by making the toy. It becomes the main source of funding for the next animation and character development."
Though Choi has brought joy and inspiration to countless children, his own childhood was anything but easy. His father died when he was three, and his mother raised five children by working as a street vendor.
He dropped out of elementary school in third grade and began working at a jewelry store in Yeongdeungpo District, western Seoul, at age 13, learning metal craft. He later honed casting and mold-making skills at a foundry.
Still, Choi describes his childhood as "quite happy."

"Sometimes, I feel like I'm still that 12-year-old staring up at the sky while waiting for my mom to come home," he said. "I used to follow ants down the street and give them food, or find joy just watching leaves blow in the wind. My content ideas come from memories like those."
Choi's connection with children began in 1983, when he was asked to develop a toy vending machine. After creating a hit nontoxic sticky toy, he fully immersed himself in toy development. He later invested in Korean animations like "White Heart Baekgu" (2000-01) before teaming up with Japanese toy giant Takara Tomy to launch "Beyblade" in Korea. With its accompanying signature spinning toys that launch with a pull-chain, allowing kids to pit their toys against each other, the toys and series went on to generate around 1 trillion won in global sales.
Having once been immersed in animation and toys, Choi now focuses on music and entertainment. Since handin...

This article is by Choi Min-ji and read by an artificial voice.

Korean indie musicians, squeezed by fierce competition at home, are increasingly turning to overseas markets where multilingual content, social media popularity and broader genre openness offer a far smoother path to global listeners.
One might wonder why a private English tutor would be needed for rock musicians, but a mid-sized entertainment agency recently assigned such a tutor to one of its artists as part of plans for an overseas debut.
"The first target markets are in Southeast Asia - Indonesia and Thailand," a representative from the agency said. "In Korea, the music scene is heavily dominated by K-pop in terms of genre and by major agencies in terms of marketing. So it's difficult to survive the competition, and that led us to explore opportunities abroad."
In an example of Korean indie bands making efforts to reach a larger market, rock band To More Raw, which debuted this year, uploaded its most recent music video to YouTube with subtitles in Korean, English and Thai.
"The three of us are all working day jobs while continuing our activities as a band, and we study English whenever we can," said bassist Yang Jun-hyeok of To More Raw. "We're not aiming to debut in a specific country, but we think having music that can be understood in English opens up more possibilities."
Independent Korean musicians are increasingly turning to international markets to avoid the intense competition at home. Social media-driven viral marketing has lowered the entry barrier, and once momentum builds, artists can access far larger listener bases than in Korea.

There have been previous cases of success abroad, such as Jambinai, a band that blends traditional Korean music with rock.
But since the Covid-19 pandemic, and in an age when online platforms like YouTube Music and Shorts have become central to music listening and promotion, a more diverse range of acts have found success overseas. These include modern rock band wave to earth, alternative pop band The Rose, synth-pop group ADOY, surf rock band Say Sue Me, R&B and ballad singer-songwriter Dept and the electronic hip-hop duo Hypnosis Therapy.
wave to earth is considered the most prominent success story. As of November, its monthly Spotify listeners stood at 7 million, with the number once reaching 9 million - more than singer IU, who has around 4 million.
The band kicked off its international performance career at VERY Festival in Bangkok in 2023 and has since held two world tours, performing 107 shows overseas and drawing 200,000 audience members.

In North America, all 51 of wave to earth's concerts in the two tours sold out, and the band even held a separate seven-show encore tour in response to the positive reception.
Regions that have responded positively to Korean music include Southeast Asia, Taiwan, Europe and North America.
A common thread among the acts that gained popularity in these regions is that their lyrics are largely written in English.

At least one member in each group is fluent in English and takes on songwriting responsibilities, making such output possible. The typical trajectory has been to go viral online, gain visibility through festivals, then follow up with world tours.
"The Rose's debut song 'Sorry' [2018] gained traction in Europe through word-of-mouth, and we began receiving offers for local tours," said a representative from Windfall, the agency that manages The Rose. "We started with small shows for 500 people, and now each concert draws 5,000 to 7,000 fans."
Why are indie musicians from Korea gaining traction overseas? The reason lies in the variety of music genres listened to by music lovers overseas, say experts.

"In foreign markets, listeners consume a wider range of genres and artists from various countries compared to Korea," said music critic Kim Hak-seon.
Korea ranked sixth in terms of listening to domestic artists - 77.4 percent of streamed music came from Korean acts, accor...

Kim Bong-ryeol
The author is an architect and a former president of the Korea National University of Arts.
In Greek mythology Prometheus, the god who thought ahead, and his brother Epimetheus, the god who thought after the fact, descended to earth to create animals and humans. Epimetheus distributed abilities to all animals without restraint. When it came time to design humans nothing was left, forcing Prometheus to fashion them in the image of the gods and deliver fire, a divine privilege. Enraged, Zeus chained him to a cliff at the end of the world and sent an eagle each day to devour his liver for eternity.
That edge of the world is Mount Kazbek, a 5,047-meter peak in the Caucasus mountain range in what is now Georgia. The snow-covered massif rises like a sheer wall. In the age of myth, it was believed that Tartarus, the underworld, lay beyond the mountain. Georgians consider the Prometheus story a later adaptation of their own Amirani myth, passed down from ancient times, and regard Mount Kazbek as the nation's sacred peak.

On a mid-elevation ridge at 2,170 meters stands the Gergeti Trinity Church. Built in the 14th century, the church is modest in scale at roughly 200 square meters. It consists of a cross-in-square sanctuary with a conical dome and a separate bell tower topped with another conical dome. Constructed from rough-cut local stone, the structure has only minimal carved decoration around its doors and windows. Light enters through narrow, vertically extended windows called tolobate openings, illuminating frescoes and icons inside the otherwise dark interior.
The church once served as a refuge for Georgia's most treasured religious object, the Cross of Saint Nino, during times of war. Although the country is dotted with larger churches and monasteries of the Georgian Orthodox tradition, Gergeti Trinity Church remains the most symbolic. The red volcanic-stone bell tower and the gray tuff sanctuary form a striking silhouette against the white cliffs of Mount Kazbek.
Since the mythical liberation of Prometheus by Heracles, the church has come to be seen as the guardian of the mountain. Nature provides the backdrop, while architecture adds history and meaning, turning the vista into a cultural landscape. Small and unadorned, Gergeti Trinity Church carries a significance as grand as the mountain itself.
This article was originally written in Korean and translated by a bilingual reporter with the help of generative AI tools. It was then edited by a native English-speaking editor. All AI-assisted translations are reviewed and refined by our newsroom.

Won Ok-kum
The author is a representative of the Migrant Center Donghaeng and is originally from Vietnam.
Another migrant worker has died in Daegu's Seongseo Industrial Complex. The victim, Tuan, came from Vietnam. She fell to her death while trying to hide between factory buildings to evade an immigration crackdown on undocumented workers. Official records will frame it as an "accident during enforcement." Yet behind that phrase lies a much deeper story about the people Korea needed but never accepted, and the accumulated fear that shaped their lives.

For me, the death of a young woman from my own country, who migrated to the same nation as I did, was a painful shock. She was not even undocumented in the way the term is often used in Korea. She graduated from a Korean university and was searching for full-time employment. To ease financial stress during her hunt, she took on a temporary part-time job. Even so, the crackdown pushed her into hiding and ultimately to her death.
The word "illegal immigrant" stings each time I hear it. It brands a person as "illegal," defining their existence as criminal. In 2016, the National Human Rights Commission recommended discontinuing the term and replacing it with "undocumented migrant worker," arguing that while actions can violate the law, people themselves cannot be illegal. Yet government documents and enforcement sites routinely use the former term as if it were neutral. How long will we continue labeling people as illegal?
The reasons people become undocumented are rarely simple. Many do not deliberately overstay their visas. Instead, they fall victim to gaps in policy and structural contradictions. Under trainee programs and the Employment Permit System, Korea has relied on skilled foreign labor for decades while denying them paths to permanent residency or citizenship. Migrants are welcomed when labor is needed, then treated as disposable once their work is done. That contradiction falls hardest on the most vulnerable individuals.
In my work counseling undocumented workers, one emotion is constant: fear. Some hide in factory bathrooms for hours when enforcement teams arrive. Others have been deported after failing to retrieve identification during raids, torn from families and livelihoods. Many remain silent despite wage theft because reporting it could lead to deportation. They do not live outside the law; they live under its constant shadow.
If the goal of enforcement is to uphold legal order, we must ask who the system is protecting. The more that crackdowns are measured by results, the more that people run, hide and take risks. Tuan's death was not an anomaly. It was a predictable outcome of the system.
Korean society now stands at a turning point. Multicultural families are common. Entire industries rely on foreign workers. Migrants live, work, pay taxes and raise children here in greater numbers than many realize. Yet institutions still treat them merely as labor, offering minimal rights and little cultural or legal integration. Policy has fallen behind reality.
This incident forces us to ask hard questions. How do we see the people who share this country with us? Are we prepared to recognize them as members of society? Most importantly, what must change to prevent more deaths?

The government must shift away from enforcement-first policies and create pathways that provide undocumented workers a way to gain legal status. This requires rational visa adjustments, policies that acknowledge structural dependence on migrant labor and law enforcement that prioritizes human dignity above all else. Society, too, must see migrants not as threats or criminals but as neighbors.
Tuan's death marks the end of one life, but it also asks where this society is heading. We have witnessed many tragedies and vowed each time that they must not happen again. But nothing changes if we only speak and do not act. The attitude and policies regarding migrant workers must move beyond the contradi...

Choi Hoon
The author is a senior columnist at the JoongAng Ilbo.
The government launched the Constitutional Order Reform Task Force on Friday, with the stated aim of identifying public officials who allegedly abetted insurrection. The stance of Democratic Party lawmaker Park Kyoon-taek, a former high-ranking prosecutor, drew attention. Asked what constitutes assisting insurrection, he pointed to officials who cooperated when former President Yoon Suk Yeol declared martial law.

"There must have been correctional officials who helped check for empty cells at prisons," he said. "One bureau director at the Ministry of Justice was known among subordinates for enjoying such cooperation or for expressing concern whenever bad news emerged for Yoon. If such officials thrive, what subordinate would accept it, and who would try to correct unlawful situations by the state going forward?"
The Office of the Prime Minister said it will request the voluntary submission of personal cell phones for investigation, and may consider suspension from duty or criminal referral for those who refuse.

Summarized, public officials who expressed concern when misfortune befell former President Yoon, or left digital traces on their devices, may now face potential removal. Yet public reactions have been less formal. When seeing recent photos of Yoon or his wife Kim Keon Hee looking worn down, many have remarked, "I disliked them when they held power, but I feel a bit sorry now," "He looks gaunt, maybe his diabetes has worsened," "Is he suffering withdrawal because he cannot drink?" or "Could he be contemplating something extreme?"
Are these expressions of empathy or simply idle curiosity? Hard to say, but officials may choose caution, fearing complaints or anonymous accusations. Some may feel pressure to delete files on their phones.
At the same time, the ruling party referred 18 senior prosecutors to the prosecution on charges of insubordination, following accusations that they resisted government directives. This pressure follows comments telling prosecutors to "leave quickly if they plan to resign" and begins legislative efforts to allow their dismissal like ordinary civil servants, or even demotion of senior prosecutors to junior ranks.
No one disputes that political maneuvering within the prosecution under past administrations created this backdrop. One Democratic Party lawmaker argued that prosecutors remained silent in March when the decision to arrest Yoon was canceled and the appeal was dropped, suggesting selective defiance. The longstanding practice of sidelining key officials of previous administrations has become routine, regardless of which party holds power. The cycle in which governing and opposition parties trade blows after changing positions has become entrenched among political elites. As the line between authority and coercion blurs, public sensitivity to abuse of power also fades, creating a deeper crisis.
There was once a thinker who argued that politics must operate with ruthless clarity, even at the cost of criticism: Machiavelli. Rejecting the moral idealism of Confucius and Mencius, he insisted on stark political realism. "Humans are ungrateful, fickle, deceitful and hypocritical," he wrote. "They more easily betray those they love than those they fear. A ruler is safer feared than loved. Love is severed when interests change, but fear rooted in punishment cannot be abandoned. Those who seek to be good in all matters are ruined by those who are not. In power, results alone matter. Between mercy and cruelty, choose cruelty." Such conclusions may appear reasonable from the perspective of someone who holds power.
Machiavelli also stressed method. "Those who gain power through fortune or another's help must quickly build a new foundation. Fortune is fickle. Destroy those who threaten the ruler, reshape the old order through force and deception, and expand one's own base. Make the rich poor and the poor rich. Tear down existing ci...

The government has extended the construction period for Gadeok Island New Airport from 84 months, or seven years, to 106 months, or eight years and 10 months, and plans to reopen bidding within the year. The consortium led by Hyundai Engineering and Construction had been selected as the preferred bidder after four failed rounds, but the offer was withdrawn after Hyundai requested extending construction from 84 to 108 months due to safety concerns.
Though the longer timeline is aimed at ensuring safety and resuming the stalled project, fundamental problems remain. The airport is designed on an artificial island made through land reclamation. The seabed around Gadeok Island has a 50-meter (164-foot) layer of soft ground, which has raised concerns regarding uneven subsidence. Typhoons pose a flood risk, as they are capable of making waves that are 12 meters tall. The site is also just three kilometers (1.86 miles) from a migratory bird habitat at the Nakdong River estuary, increasing the chances of bird strikes. Despite the longer construction timeline, the government has not increased the budget, fueling concerns of further delays.
Residents fear the new timeline may lead to false hope after repeated setbacks. Wasteful spending appears inevitable: The Ministry of Land, Infrastructure and Transport has already spent 15.3 billion won ($10.4 million) on research to justify the original 84 months.
The project is widely seen as an election-driven development. Former President Roh Moo-hyun initiated the proposal of a southeastern airport, but concerns over safety and costs led to a 2016 decision to expand Gimhae International Airport instead. Ahead of the 2020 Busan mayoral by-election, the Moon Jae-in administration revived the Gadeok Island plan, with the opposition joining in to appeal to local voters.
The rollout was rushed. The project skipped preliminary feasibility studies, cost assessments and basic and detailed design. The Land Ministry opposed the plan, citing seven major concerns, including safety and economic viability, but a special law was passed just three months after it was introduced. The shifting construction timeline reflects the project's political nature: The opening year moved from 2035 to December 2029 during the World Expo bid, then to seven years of construction - and now to nearly nine.
Airport construction requires massive public funding. If even builders are hesitant, the government must reassess safety comprehensively. Political pressure to accelerate the schedule risks wasting public funds and causing serious safety failures. Rather than fixating on deadlines, feasibility and safety must be reviewed from the start.
This article was originally written in Korean and translated by a bilingual reporter with the help of generative AI tools. It was then edited by a native English-speaking editor. All AI-assisted translations are reviewed and refined by our newsroom.

This article is by Seo Ji-eun and read by an artificial voice.

"We commit to working together under the United States' Presidency in 2026 and meeting again in the United Kingdom in 2027 and in the Republic of Korea in 2028," the leaders stated in the final section of the G20 South Africa Summit Leaders' Declaration.
The event will mark the first G20 summit held in Korea since the 2010 Seoul Summit.
The presidential office welcomed the decision, saying Korea's assumption of the G20 presidency, following its term as president of the UN Security Council in the first year of the administration and the successful hosting of APEC, "reconfirms our elevated status and demonstrates our determination to lead global solidarity and cooperation."
G20 leaders adopted the declaration on the opening day of the summit, despite complications ahead of the meeting stemming from tensions between this year's host, South Africa, and the United States.
Washington had opposed adopting any document that presumed prior agreement without its consent, saying it could not endorse such a text. The United States ultimately did not participate in the summit.
Even so, South Africa, as chair, proceeded with adoption on day one - an unusually early move, given that the declaration is usually endorsed on the closing day.
U.S. President Donald Trump has argued that multilateral organizations do little to improve people's daily lives, favoring instead bilateral deals struck directly between two countries. The declaration's language - highlighting climate urgency, renewable-energy goals and developing-country debt burdens - touched on precisely the themes the Trump administration has long resisted.
"We reiterate our commitment to the G20 as the premier forum for international economic cooperation and its continued operation in the spirit of multilateralism, on the basis of consensus, with all members participating on an equal footing in all its events, including Summits, in accordance with international obligations," the statement said.
With the declaration containing numerous issues Washington opposes, Korea ultimately backed the adoption in line with its consistent support for multilateral diplomacy.
"Under any circumstances, we intend to play our role and make contributions on the existing international multilateral diplomatic stage," National Security Adviser Wi Sung-lac said during a briefing in Cairo on Thursday.
President Lee Jae Myung reaffirmed multilateral cooperation during the opening day's Session 1, which addressed inclusive and sustainable economic growth.

His reference to a "predictable" trade and investment environment came roughly one week after Korea and the United States completed their joint fact sheet on tariff negotiations. Those talks began in April after President Trump abruptly raised reciprocal tariffs on Korea to 25 percent, creating what Seoul described as an "unpredictable" trade environment.
Lee also said, "The Republic of Korea will make every effort to secure the formal incorporation of the Investment Facilitation for Development Agreement - the initiative that Korea has led and advanced -- as an official WTO instrument at the forthcoming Ministerial Conference." The Republic of Korea is the official name for South Korea.
Lee further emphasized the importance of development cooperation.
"We must elevate the effectiveness of our development cooperation to accelerate growth in the developing countries," he said. "Having led the adoption of the Multilateral Development Banks [MDB] Roadmap Monitoring and Reporting Framework, the Republic of Korea remains committed to actively participating in ongoing MDB reform efforts."
The MDB reform road map includes measures to enhance transparency, strengthen financial safety nets and maximize development outcomes for low-income countries. Trump had argued that multilateral institutions such as MDBs were inefficient relative to the U.S. financial contributions they received and pushed to reduce...

This article is by Chon Kwon-pil and read by an artificial voice.

The 30th United Nations Climate Change Conference (COP30) closed Sunday without reaching an agreement on phasing down fossil fuels, despite days of tense negotiations. While Korea formally declared an end to coal power, global momentum toward a fossil fuel exit appears to have stalled.
According to the Ministry of Climate, Energy and Environment, the conference - held in Belém, Brazil - concluded at 9 a.m. Sunday, a day later than initially scheduled. Approximately 50,000 participants from around the world gathered for the summit, where 149 countries adopted the so-called "Belém political package," including the "Mutirão decision," which outlined climate action plans for the next decade.
The Mutirão decision - named after a Brazilian Indigenous term meaning "collective effort" - commits to science-based, equitable and multilateral cooperation in response to the climate crisis. It also includes a pledge to triple funding for climate adaptation to $120 billion by 2035.
Fossil fuel phaseout scrapped
Despite being a key agenda item, the proposed road map for phasing out fossil fuels failed to win consensus. Brazil, as the host nation, pushed for an end to fossil fuel use with the backing of 80 countries. But the proposal faced fierce opposition from major oil-producing nations such as Saudi Arabia and Russia, as well as some developing countries. The deadlock delayed the closing session, and the final agreement omitted any mention of fossil fuels altogether.

The Washington Post described the outcome as capping "a year of victories for fossil fuel interests in international talks," highlighting how much the global political landscape has shifted in the decade since the Paris Agreement.
"There is significance in maintaining momentum for climate action despite external headwinds," said Yeh Sang-wook, a professor of marine convergence engineering at Hanyang University. "But it is regrettable that the most critical issue - a fossil fuel phaseout - was not codified, leaving the pace and direction of energy transition unclear."
Korea declares coal exit, climate leadership missing
The Korean delegation at COP30 advocated for reducing greenhouse gas emissions and transitioning to low-carbon energy. It announced a new Nationally Determined Contribution (NDC) target to cut emissions by 53 to 61 percent from 2018 levels by 2035. Korea also became the second Asian country to join the Powering Past Coal Alliance (PPCA), officially declaring its coal exit.

However, as COP30 marked the 10th anniversary of the Paris Agreement, many observers noted a lack of meaningful progress. Instead, the conference highlighted a growing leadership vacuum in global climate efforts. The United States, on the verge of formally withdrawing from the Paris Agreement, did not send a government delegation - a first for the COP - while China refrained from taking a strong stance on reducing fossil fuel emissions.
"As COP30 ends, the reality is clear: bold titles and grand promises have not translated into meaningful action," wrote Manuel Pulgar-Vidal, who chaired COP20 and now heads global climate and energy policy at the World Wide Fund for Nature (WWF) in a post on Saturday. "Hope was offered but not delivered. The absence of a credible plan to address the climate crisis and the failure to recognize core drivers of the climate crisis, like fossil fuels, speaks volumes. These countries lack the political will to take bold action."
This article was originally written in Korean and translated by a bilingual reporter with the help of generative AI tools. It was then edited by a native English-speaking editor. All AI-assisted translations are reviewed and refined by our newsroom.

This article is by Shin Ha-nee and read by an artificial voice.

When Plave finally stepped - or rather, streamed - into Gocheok Sky Dome in western Seoul, the nation's largest indoor concert venue, it felt like witnessing K-pop's latest evolution unfold in real time.
Yet by the end of the night, what stood out wasn't the tech pushing the virtual boy band onto that massive stage, but the older truth in the industry: K-pop thrives on community.
Plave, K-pop's biggest virtual group, made a somewhat glitchy but undeniably real debut at one of the industry's most coveted venues with two shows on Friday and Saturday. The two-day run marked a finale for the boy band's first Asia tour, "Dash: Quantum Leap," which kicked off in Seoul in August, and continued with stops in Taipei, Hong Kong, Jakarta, Bangkok and Tokyo.

"This is not the 'Truman Show,' right?" said member Bambi in disbelief during the Friday show, looking into the massive crowd filling the dome.
"I don't know if anyone remembers this, but during our 100th day live stream, we asked, 'Will we ever get to perform at Gocheok Sky Dome one day?'," he recalled.
"Indeed, and the important thing is this isn't a dream but our reality," said member Hamin.
"And the ones who made this reality possible are PLLI," he added, referring to Plave's fandom.
Plave, a five-member virtual boy band, debuted under Vlast in March 2023. The virtual quintet is powered by motion capture technology that enables real performers wearing gadgets to bring anime-like avatars to life.
Plave has been making history in the K-pop virtual scene. The group sold more than a million copies of its third EP, "Caligo Pt. 1," released in February, the first virtual act ever to achieve such a feat. Its latest single, "PLBBUU," dropped on Nov. 10, repeating that success by hitting its own million-copy milestone.

Opening the show with a video of the members jumping from a spaceship, the virtual group appeared on stage riding a descending lift, projected onto a massive screen.
Kicking off the near three-hour run with "Watch Me Woo!" (2024), the quintet leveraged its virtual aspect to the fullest from the start. Costumes shifted instantly from school uniform-inspired looks for "Virtual Idol" (2024) to charismatic tech-wear for "Rizz" with only seconds of blackout in between, and continued throughout the concert, even changing mid-song during "Our Movie" (2024) at the peak of the performance.
The set transformed just as freely. A snowy field for "Dear. PLLI" (2023), a grand piano sitting on top of a mountain-shaped structure during "Island," a spiraling tower for "12:32 (A to T)" and even entering through a wormhole-style portal - a visual that would be physically impossible for real-life idols to create. Occasional appearances by real backup dancers and a live band added weight and texture, further blurring the line between virtual and physical performances without feeling out of place.

But their choice paid off vocally. In a busking-style segment inspired by members Noah and Yejun's pre-debut street performances - which were livestreamed on a Hongdae street - each member sang solo, showcasing vocal strengths that grounded the virtual spectacle in something unmistakably human.
And Plave fans got what K-pop fans always want: a fresh jolt of something new and exciting. Some of the loudest cheers of the night came during a surprise cover of K-pop legend TVXQ's "Mirotic" (2008), as the crowd absolutely lost it when the members appeared in sleek black outfits to perform the iconic track.

K-pop has always evolved by absorbing new technology and pop culture shifts into its fast-paced star-making system, and Plave's rise fits neatly into that trajectory. Yet Friday's show underscored that even on the digital frontier of the genre, what drives fandom is still the sense of personal connection, something that fuels emotional investment and keeps people deeply attached to the journey.
Despite never stepping onto a thrust stage...

This article is by Yoo Ju-hyun and read by an artificial voice.

Baek Ji-yoon once aspired to become a ballerina like the famous Kang Sue-jin.
Now she is Korea's first theater actor with Down syndrome and has already stepped into the spotlight at Myeongdong Theater in Jung District, central Seoul.
While the lead in the play "Jellyfish" - which ran at Modu Art Theater from March to April and at Myeongdong Theater in September - Baek boldly addressed the experiences of love and sexuality among women with Down syndrome.
"Jellyfish" is a work of "inclusive art," in which the abilities and identities of disabled actors are fully embraced. Baek's debut in this play was not simply a feel-good, triumphant spectacle, like a kind of Paralympics for theater, but something more significant: a disabled actor stepping into the mainstream alongside her nondisabled peers.
Of course, Baek's journey to becoming a professional artist wasn't driven by family support alone. The Korea Disability Arts and Culture Center was also behind this milestone. The center celebrated its 10th anniversary this year and opened its Modu Art Theater two years ago.
"Jellyfish," written by British playwright Ben Weatherill, was Modu Art Theater's inaugural production. The JoongAng Sunday recently spoke with the theater's operating manager Oh Se-hyeong, Baek's mother Lee Myeong-hee and Baek herself.
"It's not easy to stand on stage for two hours and recite dialogue, you know. At Modu Art Theater, it felt like a family event, but at Myeongdong Theater, the audience was so much larger - and we still got a standing ovation. The original author said [Baek] outdid her British counterpart," Oh said.
"It's all thanks to my manager and seniors who guided me well," Baek said. "At first, I was scared [the audience] might look at me strangely, but a fan I met on the street even gave me a bag as a gift."

Much has changed in the past 15 years. Just a decade ago, Baek's future looked uncertain, and Lee struggled with depression.
"[Baek] graduated with a dance major and had no path forward - the despair was overwhelming," Lee said. "I thought, 'Was I wrong for letting her learn ballet while others were already searching for a job?'"
It's why Baek, who was working as a sanitation worker at the time, saw the news of an audition for a dance troupe for people with disabilities as a ray of light.
"Jobs for artists with disabilities were slowly starting to emerge," Lee said. "Ji-yoon worked with a dance troupe for a few years, and when she turned 30 and her body couldn't keep up, she moved on to 'Jellyfish.' If she doesn't use her body, her cognitive function can decline, but the repetition in rehearsals helps with that. Looking back now, I realize that all the activities Ji-yoon has taken part in were supported by grants from the Korea Disability Arts and Culture Center."
As a parent, Lee worried about contingency plans in case Baek gave up, but the production team promised to accommodate Baek's physical and psychological needs.
"There were 1,700 lines and scenes where I had to scream or say sexual words. It was hard," Baek said. "Director Min Sae-rom would hold my hand and say, 'We're doing this together.' Now I have my own little trick. I tell myself, 'Just show what you've practiced - nothing more.' I try to control my thoughts, reminding myself that my mom is always by my side, as are the theater's manager and director."
Despite the extra time and effort required, Baek flourished among her nondisabled peers.
"The biggest concern was the sexual dialogue. I thought that she wouldn't understand it, but a social welfare group told me it was a limit we needed to overcome," Lee said. "In the end, even that part was naturally resolved during rehearsals. What I've come to realize through theater is that people with disabilities learn life patterns and ways of speaking by working alongside those without disabilities. When Ji-yoon was only around others with disabilities, she didn't reall...

This article is by Lee Jae-lim and read by an artificial voice.

Fighting against aging has been a universal obsession that has fascinated people for centuries, regardless of their age, gender, nationality or social status, from the fabled Fountain of Youth to the story of Dorian Gray's portrait and the rise of plastic surgery.
Yet nowhere is the pursuit of youth more culturally ingrained, and perhaps more creatively interpreted, than in Korea. Here, the idea of preserving youth extends well beyond mundane procedures like smoothing out wrinkles or basic skincare routines. It belongs to a broader aesthetic philosophy known as dongan, a term that literally translates to "baby face."
The wide proliferation of unusual dongan therapies in Korea reflects a desire to cultivate features that are more than just youthful, they are reminiscent of childhood itself: softer contours, fuller cheeks, wider eyes and a certain gentle roundness associated with innocence. This cultural ideal has largely influenced countless beauty practices now trending - predictably, more often for women than for men - spanning from lifestyle habits and skincare regimens to cutting-edge cosmetic surgeries. Some of these procedures may seem unusual or extreme to outsiders, but in Korea, they are widely embraced as legitimate methods of achieving that coveted dongan look.
What's the origin behind dongan?
The word dongan originates from the Chinese characters meaning child ( dong) and face ( an), used to describe people who appear younger than their chronological age. The aesthetic is rooted in traditional Korean beauty ideals that favored round, plump faces and fair, soft skin. Although the idea has existed for centuries, it became a mainstream cultural standard in the late 1990s and early 2000s, driven by celebrity influence, media imagery and growing access to cosmetic enhancements.
As Korean skincare and cosmetic surgery technology advanced, the dongan ideal merged seamlessly with the global antiaging movement. Yet Korea remains unique in that being told one "looks dongan" is considered a high compliment - driving many to use makeup or undergo procedures specifically to look younger, not merely refreshed.
What are some unique treatments to achieve a baby face?
Among the most distinctive trends is the rise of "elf ears," or subtly protruding ears that create the visual illusion of a shorter midface. This effect is considered youthful because shorter midface proportions evoke childlike balance.
Singer Mimi of girl group Oh My Girl recently revealed on a TV program that she uses ear tape to mimic this look.
Celebrities often cited as having ideal "elf ear" proportions include Blackpink's Jennie, aespa's Karina and Newjeans' Haerin.

Clinically, the trend is achieved by injecting filler into the cartilage so ears that normally lie flat against the head will project further forward, becoming more visible from the front.
Although not exclusive to Korea, other proportion-focused procedures also play a central role in achieving a dongan appearance.
Forehead reduction surgery shortens a long upper face by lowering the hairline, creating more balanced facial thirds.
Lip lifts shorten the philtrum - the area between the nose and upper lip - which naturally lengthens with age and can elongate the face.
There are also filler-based procedures that are distinctly Korean, such as rounded forehead filler and aegyosal filler. These treatments have been around for years, with the former creating a smooth, convex forehead silhouette long associated with youthfulness, particularly among older generations. Aegyosal filler, one of Korea's most iconic dongan procedures, adds volume to the small band of fat beneath the eyes to create a softer, more youthful expression when smiling. Another common procedure, especially among middle-aged and older patients, is under-eye fat repositioning, which corrects age-related concerns such as bulging fat pads, hollowness or deep shadows by redis...

This article is by Lee Jae-lim and read by an artificial voice.

[NEWS ANALYSIS]
LG Group - once defined globally by its consumer electronics, displays, components and batteries - is now leveraging those same core strengths to position itself as a major supplier in the fast-rising humanoid robotics industry, aiming for future supply deals in the United States.
The conglomerate has been expanding investments in its robotics portfolio in recent years, betting that physical AI represents a new growth engine where early suppliers can scale quickly. Goldman Sachs predicts a bullish outlook of $38 billion for the humanoid robotics market, with global robot shipments projected to reach 1.38 million units in 2035.
LG Electronics CEO William Cho highlighted robotics as one of LG's core technologies and labeled the sector "a certain future" to reporters at a press conference held on the sidelines of CES 2025 in Las Vegas in January.
Following this momentum, foreign investors have been actively buying LG Group stocks in November. LG CNS, the group's information technology service arm, topped net purchases at 158 billion won ($107.6 million), followed by LG Chem, its chemicals and materials flagship, at 121 billion won, while LG Innotek, its electronics components manufacturer, came in at 84 billion won and battery maker LG Energy Solution raked in 83 billion won as of Nov. 19, according to Korea Exchange data.
Eyes of humanoids
One of its most high-profile bets is on Figure AI, a U.S. robotics startup developing general-purpose humanoid robots for both household use and industrial sites. Investors in the February 2024 Series B round included LG, Microsoft, OpenAI, Nvidia and Jeff Bezos, the founder of Amazon. In September the next year, LG Technology Ventures, LG's venture capital arm, joined the $1 billion Series C round that pushed Figure AI's valuation to an estimated $39.5 billion. LG's total investment amount is undisclosed.
Industry observers widely expect LG's investment to translate into a supply relationship. LG Innotek, which already provides camera modules for premium iPhone models, is increasingly seen as the likely supplier of the "eyes" for Figure's humanoid lineup. Anticipation of such a deal comes amid similar supply deal speculation by several Korean reports that LG Innotek may become a supplier for Tesla's Optimus robot, as U.S. companies seek non-Chinese component suppliers due to the risk of data leakage and national security sensitivities.
Camera modules, which enable robots and autonomous systems to recognize and respond to their surroundings, are considered high-security components, making Korean companies like LG Innotek particularly attractive partners.
Kim Dong-won, an analyst at KB Securities, says the affiliate's next major growth driver lies in the humanoid robot sector - a market accelerating not just technologically but geopolitically.
"Sales of cameras for humanoid robots will surge more than tenfold from 5.1 billion won this year to 54 billion won next year," Kim said. "Prospects for LG Innotek are especially bright as U.S. companies are likely to seek Korean suppliers amid rising security concerns in the U.S.-China AI power struggle."

Vertical integration through Bear Robotics
LG strengthened its vertical integration in robotics after securing management control of Bear Robotics in May, exercising a call option that raised its stake to 61.1 percent. The move is intended to accelerate collaboration between LG affiliates' hardware capabilities and Bear Robotics' software expertise.
Founded in 2017 in Silicon Valley, Bear Robotics is considered an early mover in commercial and industrial autonomous mobile robots. The kind of robots are designed to perform repetitive delivery tasks, and its flagship lineups for Servi, restaurant server bots, and Carti brand, a larger, open cart-style robot for carrying heavy items.
LG CNS has partnered with Bear Robotics to expand into warehouse and logistics robotics. I...

This article is by Sarah Chea and read by an artificial voice.

Genesis has unveiled the GV60 Magma, the brand's first high-performance model, positioning it to compete directly with long-established rivals such as Mercedes-AMG and BMW's M.
Production is set to begin in Ulsan, Korea, later this year, with the domestic launch scheduled for January. The model will roll out in Germany, Britain and Switzerland in the second quarter, followed by additional European markets including France, Spain, Italy and the Netherlands.
The much-anticipated Magma variant is built on the same architecture as the standard GV60 - Genesis's first dedicated EV developed on the E-GMP platform - which it shares with Hyundai Motor Group siblings like the Hyundai Ioniq 5 and Kia EV6.
The car features a lowered profile on 21-inch wheels, framed by prominent vented arches, while a rear diffuser and the signature rear wing complete its performance-focused look.

Borrowing the dual-motor setup from the Hyundai Ioniq 5 N, the GV60 Magma generates up to 641 horsepower. It takes 3.4 seconds to go from zero to 100 kilometers per hour (62 miles per hour), and 10.9 seconds to hit 200 kilometers per hour.
Its top speed reaches 264 kilometers per hour.
Equipped with 84 kilowatt hours of battery, the car can run up to around 222 miles on a single charge.
The Magma GV60 also incorporates a unique, patented feature: a black button on the right side of the steering wheel that activates Burst mode, temporarily increasing torque and power for up to 15 seconds to maximize acceleration and overtaking performance.
The electric performance is also influenced heavily by battery temperature, which can be set in two different modes.
"For short drag-race runs, the system raises the battery temperature to around 30-40 degrees Celsius [86-104 degrees Fahrenheit] for optimal power delivery," said Song Hae-rim, an engineer at Genesis.
"In Race Mode, designed for sustained high-performance driving over longer distances, the vehicle maintains the battery at a lower range of roughly 20-30 degrees. These settings allow the car to balance peak output with endurance."

As a luxury marque, Genesis is a relatively late entrant to the high-performance arena, where established players like Mercedes and BMW performance lines have long dominated.
Yet shifting consumer preferences are creating new opportunities, with more buyers seeking to experience a brand's engineering capability and emotional appeal through its performance models. For Genesis, this has underscored the need for a dedicated performance sub-brand comparable to those of its German rivals.
Genesis says it plans to roll out Magma versions across its full lineup - from the G70 and G80 to the G90, GV70 and GV80. The Magma sub-brand is also headed for the track, with Genesis Magma Racing preparing to enter the FIA World Endurance Championship in 2026 and the IMSA series in 2027 as it targets the legendary 24-hour races at Le Mans and Daytona.
"The GV60 is the youngest and most dynamic model in the Genesis lineup, brimming with energy. Choosing the GV60 as the launch point for the Magma and then expanding the Magma lineup across different vehicle types was the most logical strategy," said Genesis Chief Creative Officer Luke Donkerwolke.

The author is a music critic and director of the classical music brand Poongwoldang.
Singing is the oldest and most fundamental form of music. It needs no instruments. It does not need to be long. It does not need to be elaborate. If it is easy to follow along, even better. It can exist without words, carried only by a hum. Singing is the minimum form of music that even the untrained can hold, and like a childhood lullaby, it lies at the foundation of the human heart.

Perhaps that is why singing still attracts the largest number of listeners. Whether in sacred choral works, symphonies, jazz standards or pop music, a voice is rarely absent. Instrumental genres in classical music developed into diverse structures and forms, yet neither composers nor audiences have ever lost their longing for song.
A cappella refers to singing without instrumental accompaniment. The absence of instruments does not make it less of a song; it remains whole on its own, so the music does not disappear even in solitude. A song without words is an instrumental work that sings without a text. Emotion alone carries the line beyond speech, allowing sincerity to travel without language. A vocalise uses only a single vowel sound. It conveys no concrete meaning, yet its emptiness allows emotion to fill the space more completely.
Even when something is missing, song is not taken from us. There is meaning in that absence. The mystery of music that moistens time does not arise only from grandeur, spectacle, technique or a sense of heavy intent. A song remains a song even without lyrics, without a human voice or without articulated language. It is striking. When the body resonates and the heart stirs, what we hear is the soul contained in that vibration.
We soothe, comfort, smile, cry and call out in longing through song. We recognize song as song because there is a soul within us that reaches out to meet the echo of another soul.
This article was originally written in Korean and translated by a bilingual reporter with the help of generative AI tools. It was then edited by a native English-speaking editor. All AI-assisted translations are reviewed and refined by our newsroom.

The author is the president of the Korean Veterinary Medical Association.
As winter approaches, avian influenza has been detected not only at major migratory bird sites in North Jeolla but also at local poultry farms. In September, a native chicken farm in Paju, Gyeonggi, reported the first highly pathogenic strain of the season. The detection came one to two months earlier than usual, raising alarms among authorities and farmers. Last spring, foot-and-mouth disease was confirmed at a cattle farm in Yeongam, South Jeolla, leading to the culling of thousands of cattle. A nearby pig farm in Muan also tested positive. In July, African swine fever was found again in Paju. The disease has appeared four times nationwide this year alone, burdening farms and quarantine officials.

Authorities deploy rapid culling and movement restrictions to block pathogens, yet the damage falls largely on farmers and their communities. Some farms face steep reductions in compensation due to delayed reporting or procedural errors, creating both financial losses and emotional distress.
This pattern is no longer unfamiliar. During the massive foot-and-mouth outbreak from November 2010 to April 2011, more than 3.5 million livestock animals were culled. Highly pathogenic avian influenza continued to resurface in subsequent years, bringing cumulative culling past 100 million animals. The government spent trillions of won in compensation, yet livestock diseases persist. Farmers suffered irreversible wounds, and public trust in quarantine policy eroded. The current system imposes heavy burdens on state finances and the livestock sector without fundamental solutions.
Under border control measures, veterinarians and livestock industry workers must disinfect their footwear at airports and seaports. The policy appears to rely on the notion that these workers pose higher transmission risks, yet the measure lacks scientific grounding. Disease transmission is not limited to specific occupations. Ordinary travelers returning from overseas trips, logistics networks, parcel deliveries and even pet movements can carry risk too.
Countries such as Japan and Taiwan do not require occupationally targeted disinfection. Instead, all inbound travelers undergo strict inspections. Detector dogs and X-ray scanners block meat and dairy products from entering. Violators face fines reaching millions of won, and repeated violations may lead to travel restrictions. Their approach focuses on high-risk items capable of carrying pathogens, not the occupation of the traveler.
In Korea, however, the image of veterinarians and livestock workers being singled out for disinfection persists, while baggage carried by ordinary travelers receives relatively lax oversight. Viruses do not choose hosts based on professions. Border control should close actual transmission routes rather than perform symbolic cleanings.
For years, quarantine policy has operated on the principle of speed and force, imposing immediate large-scale culling and movement bans once disease appears. Yet the social and economic costs far exceed the effectiveness. Trillions of won in compensation have been paid, but outbreaks continue.

A paradigm shift is now unavoidable. Genetic diagnostics should distinguish infected from uninfected animals. Epidemiological analysis using geographic information systems and big data should identify high-risk and safe zones. High-risk regions should receive broad pre-emptive vaccination along with immune monitoring. The World Organization for Animal Health also recommends shifting from blanket culling to risk-based precision quarantines. Japan, Taiwan and several European countries have already adopted scientific systems that minimize damage.
Catastrophic livestock epidemics are not merely agricultural problems. They are national emergencies tied to public health, food safety and the broader economy. Border controls must operate with precision rather than symbolism, and accuracy rather tha...

Cho Yoon-je
The author is a special appointment professor at Yonsei University's School of Economics.
Autumn has deepened. Fallen ginkgo leaves pile along the sidewalks, and even with thicker coats, the cool air still makes us pull our collars tighter. The season is often called "the season for reading," yet the phrase no longer feels convincing. Reading is receding from daily life.

In the United States, leisure reading has dropped 40 percent over the past 20 years. Even in Britain, long known for its reading culture, more than one in three adults no longer reads for pleasure. The decline is steeper among children. According to the National Literacy Trust, the share of children who say they enjoy reading fell from 43 percent in 2005 to 28 percent in 2023. In 1976, 40 percent of American high school seniors reported reading six or more books for leisure during the previous year, but by 2022, the figure had dropped to 11 percent.
Korea, where recreational reading has never been particularly strong, is unlikely to be an exception. The trend is an ominous signal for the future.
Reading was largely confined to select groups for centuries after the invention of the printing press in the mid-15th century. But in the early 1700s, expanded education and a surge in printed material sparked what historians call the "reading revolution." The shift transformed societies without shedding a drop of blood. Many historians argue that this revolution laid the groundwork for the Enlightenment, democracy and the Industrial Revolution.

The democratization of knowledge allowed the public to question aristocratic privilege, absolute monarchy and rigid social hierarchies. Enlightenment philosophers, supported by a growing middle-class readership, articulated the foundations of universal rights, liberty, equality and modern democratic institutions. As people read newspapers, history, philosophy, science and literature, they formed logical habits of thought, rejected superstition and paved the way for democratic governance, scientific progress, industrialization and capitalism.
But today, reading is in retreat. The chief culprit is the rise of smartphones in the 2010s. Mobile internet habits are deeply addictive. People now spend an average of seven hours a day looking at screens, and members of Generation Z spend closer to nine. In a world of short videos, online gaming and algorithm-driven feeds, people lose focus, depth of understanding, judgment and logical thinking. The OECD's Programme for International Student Assessment tests show that since the mid-2010s, students' math, reading and science scores have declined rapidly.
Books provide access to vast reserves of knowledge across class, age and gender, connecting writers and readers across time and space. They convey ideas refined by years of reflection, revision and verification. A YouTube video, by contrast, is more superficial and fragmented, seeking emotional resonance rather than deliberation.
Democracy assumes citizens who can understand issues in depth and debate them rationally. Yet, global political discourse increasingly drifts toward anger, resentment and demagoguery. Populist leaders and far-right movements gain traction partly because people now absorb the world through video rather than text.
The digital and AI revolutions have brought convenience and efficiency, but they also reshape communication, reshape knowledge systems, and risk widening the cognitive gap between a small elite of developers, scientists, and capital owners and the broader public. That gap could lead to a new form of knowledge monopoly reminiscent of premodern hierarchies.

One habit unites the architects of modern civilization: they were readers. Abraham Lincoln, Winston Churchill and Clement Attlee read voraciously. So did Charles Darwin, Thomas Edison and Albert Einstein. Bill Gates is a lifelong reader, and even Elon Musk says he was "raised by books."
The future of the world is clouded by widening ine...

A large ferry en route from Jeju to Mokpo struck an uninhabited island near Jangsan-myeon in Shinan County, South Jeolla, on Nov. 19. Images of the Queen Jenuvia II, a 26,546-ton passenger vessel more than three times the size of the Sewol, with half its hull grounded on the rocky shore, revived painful memories of the 2014 tragedy. With 267 passengers on board, the incident risked becoming another major maritime disaster.
The Korea Coast Guard rescued everyone within about three hours. Thirty passengers were taken to hospitals, though none suffered critical injuries. President Lee Jae Myung, traveling overseas at the time, instructed authorities to respond swiftly, and the initial rescue operation proceeded relatively quickly. Even so, the lessons of this latest accident cannot be taken lightly.
Early findings by investigators point strongly to human error. According to the Coast Guard's preliminary review, the first mate responsible for navigation allegedly missed the timing for a course change because he was reading the news on his mobile phone. The ferry, traveling at around 22 knots, should have shifted direction about 1,600 meters before the island, but the officer reportedly recognized the danger only when the ship was within 100 meters of land. A helmsman was also required to switch to manual steering in the area, but did not follow procedures.
The captain was reportedly absent from the bridge, arguing that it was not his duty shift. Officials noted that the area is dense with small islands and narrow shipping lanes, making attentive navigation critical. The failure to follow basic protocols in such waters is difficult to comprehend. The requirement for captains to directly supervise navigation in hazardous zones also appears to have been ignored. Safety rules reinforced after the Sewol sinking did not seem to function in practice.
Korea vowed after the Sewol disaster that such negligence would never be repeated. Yet this case suggests that fundamental practices are still not fully embedded in day-to-day operations. Authorities must examine whether oversight by ferry operators, crew training, and monitoring by the Ministry of Oceans and Fisheries and the Coast Guard weakened over time.
A thorough investigation into the causes and responsibilities is the minimum. More importantly, regulators must determine whether the structural vulnerabilities identified a decade ago remain unresolved and whether the safety framework built after the Sewol tragedy is functioning as intended. The promise of a safer Korea cannot remain a slogan.
This article was originally written in Korean and translated by a bilingual reporter with the help of generative AI tools. It was then edited by a native English-speaking editor. All AI-assisted translations are reviewed and refined by our newsroom.

This article is by Seo Ji-eun and read by an artificial voice.

Kevin Kim, the acting U.S. ambassador to Korea, indicated that Washington's surprise approval for Seoul's push to acquire what would be its first nuclear-powered submarine reflects "evolving" security challenges in the Yellow Sea, as he addressed a bipartisan parliamentary union forum on Thursday.
"Our mutual prosperity also depends on a stable security environment," Kim said in his keynote address at the first Korea-U. S. Diplomacy Forum held at the Lotte Hotel Seoul, stressing that the two countries "must work together to address those common challenges."
What has happened in the Yellow Sea, Kim said, is why President Lee Jae Myung and U.S. President Donald Trump agreed to modernize the alliance, increase Korea's defense spending and explore new capabilities "such as nuclear-powered submarines to meet that challenge."
Kim's reference to activity in the Yellow Sea appears to allude to China's moves to install unauthorized structures in the Korea-China Provisional Measures Zone (PMZ), part of what Seoul and Washington see as Beijing's push to internalize the waterway. His remarks echo the view expressed by U.S. Chief of Naval Operations Adm. Daryl Caudle earlier this month, who said it was a "natural expectation" that nuclear-powered submarines acquired by Korea would be used to "counter" China.

He lauded the recently released joint fact sheet as a "historic document" that captures the "comprehensive nature of our relationship."
The National Assembly's Korea-U.S. Parliamentarians' Union, launched in March with 162 lawmakers - more than half of the 300-seat parliament - was established as Korea's first official legislative channel dedicated to institutionalizing exchanges with the U.S. Congress. The bipartisan body was formed at the start of U.S. President Donald Trump's second term amid growing recognition in Seoul that shifting global dynamics, from trade friction to industrial policy, require deeper parliamentary coordination with Washington.
Thursday's forum, co-hosted by the East Asia Foundation, marked the launch of the union.
Korean-American U.S. lawmakers Sen. Andrew Kim and Rep. Young Kim also delivered congratulatory messages via video at the forum.
Ruling Democratic Party (DP) Rep. Cho Jeong-sik, who co-chairs of the parliamentarians' union, urged for a swift establishment of a counterpart group in the U.S. Congress as the alliance moves to become "a higher-level future-oriented comprehensive strategic alliance" in his welcoming remarks.
He added that acting Ambassador Kim had also expressed support for deeper legislative engagement.

"The way I see it, when dealing with Korean-American members of the U.S. Congress, partisan interests seem to be at play, and Korea appears to use them temporarily for short-term gains," Kim said. "I think such a strategy can lead to a major failure."
Emphasizing that Korean-American lawmakers are ultimately American politicians, he continued, "Because they are Americans, when they work hard in the United States for America's interests [...] they can become an extremely important strategic asset for us in the long run."
He said forming an identical organization like the parliamentarians' union in the U.S. Congress would be difficult due to structural differences in the American legislative system, though creative options could be considered - for example, signing an MOU with the speaker of the U.S. House.
John Delury, senior fellow at the Asia Society, argued that the central challenge for Seoul is learning to live with a nuclear-armed North Korea while navigating the dual pressures of a U.S.-China trade war and tariff-driven economic strain under Trump's second administration.
"In an age like this of great powerful rivalry, it is for representative democratic bodies to act in solidarity around the principles and best practices of democracy itself," he said.
Delury said Korea-U.S. parliamentary exchanges "truly rise to ...

This article is by Cho Jung-woo and read by an artificial voice.

[EXPLAINER]
Would new skyscrapers spoil the protected landscape of Jongmyo Shrine, a Unesco World Heritage site in central Seoul?
The question emerged after the Seoul Metropolitan Government late last month released a revised redevelopment plan for Sewoon District No. 4 in Jongno District, relaxing height restrictions to allow buildings up to 142 meters (466 feet).
As the dispute broadened and public outcry intensified, even Unesco stepped in, calling on the city to halt development approvals in the area and to conduct a Heritage Impact Assessment (HIA), warning that the new towers could threaten the shrine's historic vista.
The HIA evaluates how development may affect cultural properties and aims to protect a site's Outstanding Universal Value, which Unesco defines as "cultural and/or natural significance which is so exceptional as to transcend national boundaries and to be of common importance for present and future generations of all humanity."
Under the city's updated blueprint, the district could see buildings rise to 142 meters in an area that has sat largely vacant for years while awaiting redevelopment. Landowners, eager for movement on a project stalled for nearly two decades, welcomed the shift.
But the central government pushed back. The Korea Heritage Service, joined by Prime Minister Kim Min-seok, warned that the taller buildings could undermine the shrine's scenic and symbolic value, reigniting a debate over how Seoul should balance growth with the protection of one of its most symbolic cultural sites.

How did the dispute begin?
The dispute began after the city announced the plan on Oct. 30, raising height limits in Sewoon District No. 4 from 55 meters to 98.7 meters on the Jongno side and from 71.9 meters to 141.9 meters along the Cheonggyecheon stream. It was the first height change since 2018.
The 32,224-square-meter (7.96-acre) district has been marked for redevelopment since 2006, but strict height rules and heritage reviews have repeatedly delayed progress. The area sits between Jongmyo to the north and Cheonggyecheon to the south. The revised blueprint calls for buildings under 20 floors on the Jongno side and offices and officetels under 38 floors along Cheonggyecheon.
Tensions escalated after the Supreme Court ruled on Nov. 6 that a Seoul Metropolitan Council amendment to the city's cultural heritage ordinance was valid. The amendment, passed in September 2023, removed a provision restricting construction outside officially designated preservation zones. The Ministry of Culture, Sports and Tourism had argued that the amendment required consultation with the Korea Heritage Service and filed the complaint.
What is the significance of Jongmyo?
Jongmyo Shrine houses the ancestral tablets of Joseon Dynasty (1392-1910) royalty and was the setting for royal memorial rites and seasonal rituals. Unesco describes it as the oldest and most authentic surviving Confucian royal shrine.
The shrine is also known for the Jerye, a royal ancestral ritual, and Jeryeak, its accompanying music and dance. The ritual and music are registered on Unesco's list of Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity.

Jongmyo was inscribed on the Unesco World Heritage list in 1995 and remains one of central Seoul's most valued historic sites, surrounded by ancient trees and traditional structures.
Across from the shrine stands Makercity Sewoon, Korea's first mixed-use residential and electronics complex. In the 1970s and '80s, the area was a symbol of Korea's modernization, where people could find almost anything from clothing to electronics. It later fell on hard times, but the neighborhood is now linked by a skywalk that connects seven commercial buildings, stretching over both Cheonggyecheon and the popular Euljiro district.
What are the responses of the Korea Heritage Service and the central government?
The Korea Heritage Service argues that high-rise buildings across f...