I have been subscribing to a current affairs magazine for several years. As I reluctantly accept renewal at the urging of a sales representative, I sometimes wonder whether this is affection for the magazine or simply loyalty. This year, too, I have chosen to keep that loyalty alive. As it happens, news about a globally influential major magazine publisher caught my attention. Self, a leading title in the health and fitness category, is being shut down, and the German, Spanish, and Mexican editions of Glamour, along with the Italian edition of Wired, are also closing. The CEO put up a brave front, saying these account for only about 1% of total revenue, but a bitter undertone lingers — that this is flesh cut away for the sake of survival.
This is hardly a new development. The global magazine industry has been on a trajectory of decline. The print advertising market has shrunk sharply, and the digital transition has not been a savior. Social platforms first took readers away, and now artificial intelligence (AI) is ushering in a "zero-click" era, allowing people to access summarized information without clicking through. Travel tips, cooking recipes, financial advice, and health knowledge — information that magazines once painstakingly curated — can now be sorted out through just a few exchanges with AI.
Korea is no exception. According to the Korea Press Foundation's 2024 survey on the magazine industry, total revenue of the domestic magazine industry stood at 531.5 billion won, down 21% from 2021. The average number of employees at a magazine company is just 3.7, and 61% of magazine companies are small businesses with annual revenue of less than 100 million won. In the 2025 media audience survey, only 4.4% of respondents reported reading a magazine in the past week, and the figure drops to just 1.9% for current affairs magazines. In effect, magazines as a medium are disappearing from the daily lives of most people.
For the generation that remembers the heyday of magazines, the change is staggering. In childhood, Treasure Island (Bomulseom), Eokkaedongmu, and Saesonyeon drew lines in front of bookstores on every publication day, and the freebies were a big part of the fun. Women's monthlies served as a compass for culture, and Monthly Mountain (Wolgan San) and Fishing magazine were bibles for hobbyists. Sunday Seoul was itself a portrait of an era. Time and Newsweek were regarded as windows for understanding the world. But Time now publishes its print edition only biweekly, and Newsweek went through the ordeal of being sold for one dollar, halting its print edition, and later resuming it.
Magazines are often called "legacy media." Legacy means an inheritance. An inheritance is both a trace of a bygone era and a value to be passed on to future generations. A magazine is more than a vehicle for delivering information. There are the articles selected and arranged over a week or a month, the rhythm of photographs and text, and the sense of relationship slowly built up with readers. These constitute a trust and an identity that algorithms cannot mimic. I said I subscribe out of loyalty, but the reason I feel glad I subscribed every time I receive a freshly printed magazine is precisely this.
The more we live in an era where AI delivers all information instantly, the more precious the editor's eye and the warm gaze toward the reader become. It is a comforting scarcity to be found amid an arid abundance. If there is a path forward for magazines, that is where it lies. Of course, it is up to magazines themselves to prove it.
