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On the night of the 8th of last month, NBC's late-night talk show "The Tonight Show" featured a scene familiar to Koreans. Korean American actor Daniel Dae Kim balanced a pair of chopsticks across a beer glass, placed a shot glass of soju on top, and then struck the table, sending the soju glass plunging into the beer. It was the so-called "somaek." Host Jimmy Fallon marveled, and soon "cheers" and "one shot" followed. Daniel Dae Kim said, "When I was growing up, being Korean wasn't considered as 'cool' as it is now, but things have completely changed." He added that Korean culture has become a "phenomenon." Just a few years ago, "K" needed an awkward explanation; now it has become a shining cultural asset in its own right.
K-culture has expanded beyond the boundaries of genre. Going beyond K-pop and K-literature to beauty, food, fashion, and tourism, Korean culture is no longer confined to the achievements of individual industries. It has become a taste, a lifestyle, and a shared sensory language among young generations around the world. We are now in the era of "K-Everything."
This is why CNN spotlighted the secret to K-culture's success through a documentary of the same name. Above all, the power of Korean storytelling looms large. Korean culture is layered with the turbulent memories of modern history, the shadows of compressed growth, competition and alienation, wounds and recovery. Because the texture of time that ultimately endured and rose again is imprinted in the content, it resonates broadly across races and generations. The foundation that turned this into an industry is also indispensable. Music had audition programs and global platforms; film had long-term investment and patient time. Behind the visible stars, there were always invisible systems and soil.
CNN took note of the CJ Cultural Foundation, which quietly cultivated that soil. CJ Group Chairman Lee Jae-hyun, who laid the foundation's groundwork by contributing 1 billion won of his own money in 2006, has often expressed his wish that "the goal is for people around the world to enjoy Korean culture freely in their daily lives—watching Korean films every year, eating Korean food every month, watching Korean dramas every week, and listening to Korean music every day." Back in 1995, even before founding the foundation, he had already foreseen the potential of K-culture. The belief of founding Chairman Lee Byung-chull, conveyed by Vice Chairwoman Lee Mi-kyung—that "a nation's true competitiveness arises when the power of culture combines with industry"—became the root of that vision. Through "Tune Up" in music, "Story Up" in film, and "Stage Up" in musicals, the foundation extended a hand to unknown creators. Musicians like Car, the garden and Hanroro grew, independent films were called upon at international film festivals, and original musicals met audiences on stage.
If a creator's talent is the seed, the industry is the soil and the ecosystem is the seasons. No matter how good the seed, if the soil is barren and the seasons do not allow, a forest cannot grow. Today's K-culture is the achievement of a forest carefully cultivated and crafted by soil and seasons.
The question is whether that forest can be protected. The government recently unveiled a blueprint to broaden the scope of K-culture beyond the content and arts industries to fashion, food, and tourism, raising the projected 2030 market size from the original 300 trillion won to 400 trillion won. But the mood on the ground is chilly. The film industry's very ecosystem is shaking due to shrinking investment, and cultural infrastructure, including K-pop concert venues, falls far short of meeting demand. Support for creators remains meager, and practical mechanisms like tax incentives are insufficient. This is not a problem that can be solved by the support and goodwill of some private companies or local governments alone. The government must establish a mid- to long-term plan and act strategically. It must meticulously design the entire cultural ecosystem—from production incentives and support for small and mid-sized production companies to expanding translation and distribution networks and nurturing new creators.
In the recently concluded drama "Everyone Is Fighting Their Own Worthlessness," which left a profound resonance, Hwang Dong-man (played by Koo Kyo-hwan) finally shoots his first film and even wins the Best New Director award. Behind Hwang Dong-man was producer Byun Eun-a (played by Go Youn-jung), who believed in and cheered for his potential to the very end. To become a Byun Eun-a for the countless Hwang Dong-mans across Korea who, even at this very moment, fight their own worthlessness and endure day by day. Perhaps that is the government's rightful role and realistic promise for the revival of K-culture. We hope the government becomes a steadfast supporter that builds a solid ecosystem and backs them to the end, so that more Hwang Dong-mans can meet the world through their own work.
