The lifespan of semiconductors is measured by performance metrics, while the lifespan of culture is gauged by human memory. Today’s fastest chips will soon give way to the next generation. However, the stories of Homer from thousands of years ago have found new audiences through Christopher Nolan's film Odyssey. While old technologies may be replaced, the human experiences of love, loss, and the longing for return remain eternal. This raises a crucial question for South Korea in the age of AI: What will we create better? And what will we leave behind in the hearts of people around the world?
Semiconductors represent a monumental achievement for South Korea, underpinning its economy and security while serving as the foundation for AI competition. However, while semiconductors make South Korea a necessary player on the global stage, culture fosters a nation that is loved and trusted. The next successful strategy for South Korea must begin with a dual focus on technology and culture.
The Lumiere Summit, co-hosted by President Lee Jae-myung and French President Emmanuel Macron on September 7 in Saint-Paul-de-Vence, showcased this potential. The two countries announced the 'Lumiere Partnership,' pledging to invest 500 million euros each over five years, totaling 1.6 trillion won, into the film and video industry. They also adopted the 'Lumiere Declaration,' which emphasizes the protection of diversity in works and the prevention of piracy. Discussions included support for independent films, human-centered creation in the AI era, and the global expansion of local content. This focus on the future of culture in diplomatic relations deserves recognition. Now, we must ask a more important question than the amount of investment: Whose imagination will that investment nurture, and what kind of creative environment will it leave behind?
The power of culture extends beyond box office revenues. Interest generated by a single work can spill over into food, tourism, fashion, and the learning of the Korean language. Most importantly, it transforms a foreign country into a familiar one, allowing people to understand the hopes and concerns of its citizens. This accumulated familiarity and trust also strengthen diplomacy and the economy. This is why cultural policy should not be evaluated solely on short-term sales and export figures.
So why has the world listened to Korean stories? The underground setting of Parasite and the dalgona of Squid Game are distinctly Korean. Yet, the inequalities and survival struggles depicted resonate with global audiences. BTS has crossed borders by singing about youth anxiety and self-esteem in Korean. The success of Hallyu demonstrates that the most localized stories can garner universal empathy.
The success of Hallyu cannot be attributed solely to a single national character or the efforts of any one government. It is infused with history, tradition, the scars of war and division, and the aspirations of rapid growth. The persistence of creators, combined with corporate planning and investment, has led to public selection of these works. International fans have voluntarily translated, shared, and distributed them, breaking down barriers in distribution. Hallyu has become a global shared culture nurtured by Korea and the world.
What has enabled this growth? The answer lies in democracy. The freedom to challenge authority and expose society's darker sides has deepened storytelling. Works that do not shy away from issues like wealth disparity, social violence, and youth despair have fostered a deeper understanding of Korea. Trust has also been built in a society that allows criticism. Freedom of expression is not merely an ornament of culture; it is a protective barrier for the imagination of creators and a source of competitiveness for the cultural industry.
Kim Dae-jung expanded that freedom and supported openness through policy. Even during the economic crisis, he viewed culture as a key industry for the 21st century. In 1999, he enacted the Cultural Industry Promotion Act and established the Korean Film Council. By 2000, the cultural budget exceeded 1% of the total government budget for the first time since the establishment of the government. His judgment was that the more difficult the situation, the more investment was needed for the next era beyond mere survival.
The opening of Japanese popular culture exemplifies Kim Dae-jung's cultural confidence. At the time, there were significant concerns that an influx of Japanese culture would undermine Korean culture. However, Kim Dae-jung believed in the ability of Koreans to adapt and transform foreign cultures into their own. Following the joint declaration of the Korea-Japan partnership in October 1998, a phased opening began. Instead of locking the doors, he chose a path of becoming stronger through exchange and competition. The fears proved unfounded, as Korean popular culture expanded into the Japanese market. Openness became a catalyst for leapfrogging rather than dependency.
The digital infrastructure also expanded during this time. While the ultra-high-speed information and communication network project began under previous administrations, the Kim Dae-jung government accelerated the second phase in 1998 and rapidly expanded internet access. By 1999, the number of internet users surpassed 10 million, and by 2002, households with high-speed internet exceeded 10 million. This environment fostered the growth of gaming and digital content, as the public began creating, evaluating, and disseminating works online. The intersection of cultural policy and information policy created fertile ground for the growth of Hallyu.
At the center of this was the principle of 'support without interference.' I had the privilege of closely assisting President Kim Dae-jung during this period. I remember the day in 2003 at the Chunsa Film Festival when filmmakers presented him with a lifetime achievement award, and I witnessed him tear up. Looking back, his greatest contribution was not in selecting successful works but in broadening the conditions for creators to challenge freely. The protagonists of Hallyu have always been the creators and the public. The government's role is to believe in their potential and provide a foundation that can withstand failure.
AI makes this principle even more critical. AI assists in video and music production and reduces costs for translation and editing. Small production companies and emerging creators can now attempt expressions that were previously unaffordable. As language barriers diminish, the chances for Korean regional stories and independent works to reach global audiences increase. When used correctly, AI can become a tool that broadens the doors to creation.
However, risks are evident. If existing works are used for training without permission, and creators' names, styles, and voices are easily imitated, the benefits of technology will concentrate on platforms, leaving creators without a place. If recommendation algorithms only repeat familiar formulas for success, cultural diversity will diminish. Rapid and inexpensive production does not necessarily lead to quality culture. The questions of what life to capture, what to inquire about, and how to take responsibility for the results of expression remain human responsibilities.
The Lee Jae-myung administration's cultural policy must establish four conditions. First, it must guarantee freedom of creation through the system. To ensure that works uncomfortable for the government do not face disadvantages in support, the independence of support organizations and transparency in evaluations are essential. Selection should be based on the originality of the work and the capabilities of the creator, not proximity to the regime, and the selection process should be made public, with no interference in the content of supported works. This will allow creators to question societal taboos without fear.
Second, it must expand the foundation for independent films, basic arts, and young and regional creators to fail and try again. What seems unfamiliar and lacking marketability today may become tomorrow's new trend.
Third, it must establish fair contracts and transparent settlements among platforms, production companies, and creators. Even if industry revenues increase, if creators' lives remain barren, success will not last long. Fourth, it must ensure that it is possible to verify what works AI has used for learning and creation, and establish principles of consent and fair compensation for rights holders. There is no reason to force a choice between technological innovation and copyright protection. Predictable rules are necessary for both creators and tech companies to invest sustainably.
Cooperation with France should also lead to achievements in co-production, talent exchange, and cultural diversity. It should create pathways for not only large-scale works but also independent films, animation, and regionally based content to meet each other's markets. The combination of Korea's production capabilities and France's cultural policy experience can lead to collaborations that expand options in the global market.
A nation's cultural appeal does not emerge overnight. It requires a long accumulation of free creation and fair compensation to build a culture that the world trusts.
The government cannot designate the next story that will captivate the hearts of people worldwide. However, it can ensure that those who create that story can speak without fear and rise again. The path of freedom and openness that Kim Dae-jung opened must be further expanded in the AI era. A country that possesses both the most advanced semiconductors and the most enduring stories. The lifespan of chips may be a few years, but the stories etched in the hearts of people can last for thousands of years across generations. That is South Korea's greater success strategy.
* This article has been translated by AI.
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