South Korea's new president faces battle over gender equality

Australia Broadcast Center

5 days ago

In South Korea, children as young as eight are repeating misogynistic slurs they picked up from YouTube and online forums.
"They think it's just a joke," said Seonyeong Baek, a researcher who studies online hate.
"But it's actually a serious problem in everyday speech."
This isn't fringe behaviour.
It's part of a larger shift — where incel rhetoric and anti-feminist backlash have spilled from internet communities into real life, shaping how young people talk, how women are treated at work, and even how the government sets policy.
President Lee Jae-myung's recent win gave many women hope that the country would finally tackle gender inequality.
But so far, that hope is clashing with deep-rooted bias, rising digital abuse, and a culture that still treats working mothers like a problem to solve.
South Korea has the worst gender pay gap in the developed world — hovering near 30 per cent — but that barely scratches the surface.
"It's not always about the wage," said Hyunsook Jung from the southern port city of Mokpo.
"It's about where the ladder stops."
Even in female-heavy industries like fashion, she watched men rocket past her into overseas roles and executive positions.
"When both parents work, it's still the mother who prepares meals, cares for in-laws, and gets the first phone call from school. That's the default," she said.
The message is clear: women can work, but they're still expected to run the household — and look good doing it.
"Korean women and working mothers still find themselves torn between being the 'perfect mother' and the 'perfect professional,'" said Young Ha Yoon, a 50-year-old mother from Incheon.
Exit polls showed the majority of women voted for Mr Lee.
Many voters, like Ms Hyunsook, told the ABC they wanted practical changes — stable economic policy, affordable child care, and more support for working mothers.
JH, a mother of two from Gwangju who asked not to be identified, hoped the new government would help women stay in the workforce after childbirth — a key concern in a country with one of the world's lowest birth rates.
"Flexible hours, reliable personal leave, and a workplace culture that supports carers should be treated as essential, not optional," she said.
Some women spoke of returning to work just two months after giving birth.
"Waiting lists are long for child care, and the hours don't reflect the reality of working parents," said Ms Young from Incheon.
She said there had been some progress, citing "Women's Re-employment Centres".
But barriers after career breaks remain.
"The causes of the wage gap are complex — career interruptions, promotion discrimination, job instability, and gender-based job segregation," she said.
"The government is looking at equal pay policies and a wage transparency system."
Others described stress balancing long work hours and difficulties with solo parenting.
Former president Yoon Suk Yeol vowed to abolish the Ministry of Gender Equality.
Mr Yoon's People Power Party leaned on that rhetoric, pushing many women to support the Democratic Party instead.
"Not only did female approval ratings for the Democrats rise, but voter turnout among women — especially younger ones — increased," said Jeong Han-wool, a polling expert at the Research Institute of Korean People.
The ministry — which translated literally from Korean is called the "Ministry of Women" — has faced criticism for underperformance and Mr Yoon's conservative base called it unfair to men.
Yet analysts say its existence remains important.
In early July, the ministry announced monthly support payments for single-parent families of 200,000 South Korean won ($220).
The ministry also supports victims of sexual violence with a hotline service.
The ABC contacted the South Korean government for comment.
Mr Lee has tried to appease both sides, offering a rebrand of the department instead.
"It's optics, not substance," said Youngmi Kim, a senior lecturer in Asian Studies at the University of Edinburgh.
"Renaming it won't fix structural problems — discrimination, career gaps, safety."
Despite the pay gap, in a 2019 survey Mr Jeong found that nearly 70 per cent of men in their 20s think discrimination against men is serious.
He said there had been a rise in the zero-sum thinking that women's gains come at men's expense.
Much of this resentment brews in online echo chambers like Ilbe and FM Korea, both internet forums where anti-feminist comments flow, according to researchers.
Ilbe gained notoriety in 2014 when its users mocked grieving parents of the Sewol ferry disaster by holding pizza parties during hunger strikes.
"It wasn't just misogyny anymore. It became politicised — anti-liberal, anti-feminist, and deeply disrespectful," Ms Baek said.
Since then, it's gotten darker.
"Men come out of the compulsory military for two years and see their female peers ahead in the workplace," said Professor Kim.
"There's a lot of anger," she added.
But Mr Jeong cautioned against generalisation.
"The narrative of young Korean men turning radical is often overstated. Most don't support extreme views. Many actually back reforms like increased conscript pay and more inclusive military policies."
The term "incel" — involuntary celibate — originated in North America, but in South Korea, it has found a uniquely local expression.
Ilbe is one of the most notorious communities.
Ms Baek said the incel mindset was trickling down into universities.
And it's not just words.
There's a surge in deepfake porn, often made and shared by young men and even boys in middle school.
Telegram chatrooms swap non-consensual AI-generated nudes like trading cards, Ms Baek said.
"They don't even see it as a crime — it's just entertainment for them," she said.
Students even compiled spreadsheets listing deepfake porn chat groups.
Most of these deepfake communities operate on encrypted platforms like Telegram, making regulation difficult.
The government has laws to punish people who possess or share deepfakes, regardless of their intent.
But enforcement remains weak.
"There's no way to monitor chat rooms unless someone reports it," Ms Baek said. "So if no-one speaks up, no-one is caught."
Last year, nearly 800 people sought help from the national digital sex crime centre — an 11-fold increase since 2018.
Telegram cannot proactively moderate private groups but accepts reports from users, NGOs and authorities.
Mr Lee's approach has been described as cautious — more reactive than visionary.
Mr Jeong said there was agreement that the pay gap should be closed.
"But very little serious diagnosis of where and why it happens — and almost no concrete proposals on how to fix it."
He noted that anti-feminist commentators often dismiss the gap as a statistical illusion.
"That argument continues to muddy the public debate and prevent real progress," he said.
Women's rights groups have been treading cautiously in recent months, avoiding open confrontations amid political uncertainty after Mr Yoon's failed martial law attempts.
Still, activists hope to see movement on key issues: wage transparency, a consent-based rape law, LGBTQ+ protections, and gender equality lessons replacing patchy sex education at schools.
So far, most of these are missing from the administration's early agenda.
Despite the polarisation, some common ground is emerging: many across the political spectrum now recognise the urgency of tackling deepfake abuse and digital sexual violence.
But broader reforms — from equal pay and childcare policy to cultural norms in the home and workplace — will require more than tweaks or rebranding.
As polling expert Mr Jeong put it: "The political crisis has suppressed contentious issues like gender equality. But that doesn't mean they've gone away."
Ms Young said the work ahead is clear.
She said Korean women are stuck between policies that look good on paper, and a reality that hasn't caught up.
"Although Korea's policies have made significant progress, workplace culture and societal perceptions are evolving more slowly."