Korea vs. aging

Last year, I and several colleagues from the foreign correspondents’ community interviewed President Lee Myung-bak. A color photograph of the tableau ― the serious-looking president surrounded by several busily scribbling overseas reporters ― duly appeared in a vernacular daily.

A friend pointed out something curious about this picture. Although he was a good 20–30 years older than the reporters, the president was the only one among us not sporting a few gray hairs: MB’s mane was dyed jet black.

For a country whose citizens endure the highest rates of cosmetic surgery on earth, this should be no surprise; there is a national mania for looking good. But a large part of looking good, it seems to me, is denial of the natural effects of age.

It is not just looks; it is clothes, too.

In the United Kingdom, scuffed shoes, a shirt with a frayed collar and a stained, old-school tie denote a gentleman; carrying a worn-out wallet or your grandfather’s battered briefcase grant a certain classic style.

Not in Korea. Here, fashion is all about looking spotless, shiny and brand, spanking new.

Need further examples? Take cars. There is no Korean tradition of vintage cars, and certainly no fun to be had in driving an old banger. An old (or oldish) car is, instead, an object of derision.

When it comes to buildings – well. In Seoul, traditional hanok (Korean cottages) are virtually extinct. Most of those in Bukchon – ironically, dubbed “Seoul’s traditional district” – are of more recent vintage than my 1990s apartment.

What happened? Rich people bought up old hanok, tore them down and rebuilt shiny, new ersatz “hanok” in their place. Hence this formerly lively and cozy district is now dark at night, because nobody lives there: Most hanok in the heart of Bukchon are used to host cocktail receptions or to house art collections, rather than people.

In Europe, such disrespect for architectural heritage and such dispersal of traditional community would be unthinkable.

Then there are the “medieval” palaces. Gyeonbokgung is Korea’s most famous tourist attraction, but its front gate and wall have been so drastically over-restored that the palace’s sense of antiquity has evaporated; so, I would argue, has its dignity. What will be revealed when the restoration of Namdaemun Gate is eventually unveiled, I dread to think.

It seems that any historical architecture looking its age is restored – or rather, replaced – by something new and spiffy. Hence, many pieces of “cultural heritage” look less like antique heirlooms and more like the spotless sets of a sterile TV costume drama.

My point is this. It is not just possible to grow old with grace and dignity; it is natural and desirable.

Wines (generally) age well. If they are well built and maintained, buildings garner character over time. Retro style has its place in fashion, and even in technology. And for us humans, if health is maintained, there is no reason why we should not embrace seniority, rather than trying to obliterate signs of age by disguising them with a façade of youthfulness.

But the problem goes deeper than looks.

It used to be the West which most enthusiastically celebrated the cult of youth. Koreans, it was assumed, were culturally conditioned to respect the elderly. Now, with December’s election having carved a canyon between the generations, I am not sure how true that remains.

Certainly, a loss of unquestioning respect for age – by which I mean, age alone – is no bad thing. But the ongoing erosion of the extended family in favor of the nuclear family, and the loss of elders’ natural role in the home, brings social problems in its wake; problems we in the western world have experienced to our cost.

The old generation ― say, those north of 70 ― may not be familiar with fashion or technology, may not share our political opinions, may not be economically productive. That does not make them worthless.

Their life experiences ― colonization, division, war, nation-building ― bought sterner challenges than ours. Suffering is the foundation of spirituality; it also forges character. Our grandparents have stories to tell, lessons to teach.

For these reasons alone, the elderly deserve respect, but there is also a very practical, future-focused reason to re-examine attitudes: Korea now has one of the world’s fastest aging populations. Ergo, the taboos and prejudices surrounding old age need to be re-calibrated for economic as well as for social reasons.

If millennial Koreans continue on their present course – of prioritizing only the bright, the new, the young and the trendy – not only will they be losing some very precious things, they will be laying a shaky foundation for a silver future.

Andrew Salmon is a Seoul-based reporter and author. Reach him at andrewcsalmon@yahoo.co.uk. <The Korea Times/Andrew Salmon>