It is well known that Koreans hate to lose. Indeed, we seldom accept a loss, whether in an election or in an athletic competition. When we lose an election, we either accuse the winner of being fraudulent or become spiteful. When we lose an athletic match, we almost always complain that the judge was not fair. We always blame someone or something for our loss or misfortune, instead of admitting our own flaws or incompetence.

Recently, Seoul National University elected a new president. Since SNU is no longer a state-run university, it was the university Board of Directors that was authorized to elect the president. Initially, 30 members of the Presidential Recommendation Panel placed Dr. Sung Nak-in in first place. Later when 244 faculty members were given a chance to assess the candidates, they ranked another candidate as their top choice, while placing Sung in second place.

When the board voted for Sung and announced him as the final winner, those who did not support him contested that the board had ignored the faculty members’ preference and demanded that the board reconsider its decision. Obviously, they did not know that in an incorporated institution such as SNU, the Board of Directors has the ultimate power to decide everything. That is, the board is not obliged to comply with the faculty members’ opinions or other committees’ recommendations. Otherwise, the board would be reduced to a puppet controlled by those who pull the strings behind the scenes. Although such a conflict may be inevitable in a period when the university election system is undergoing a transition, the incident once again revealed the well-known fact: Koreans are sore losers.

Perhaps Koreans need good news of victory in order to survive in hard times, as Americans needed Babe Ruth’s miraculous swings in Yankee Stadium to enable them to forget World War II, however momentarily. Or perhaps sports are a better substitute for the Korean people, whose other national pastime is, as we all know, drinking. When watching a baseball, basketball or soccer game, indeed, Koreans seem to be completely intoxicated by sports. Otherwise, how could you possibly explain the 200,000 people who gathered at Seoul Plaza near City Hall in 2002 to watch soccer games on the huge outdoor screen? During the World Cup this year, Koreans once again did not hesitate to stay overnight on the street to secure a good spot to watch the game together on the outdoor screen.

Indeed, if our team loses, we wake up from intoxication and consequently suffer a terrible hangover of disappointment. Koreans do not like such unpleasant, aggravating feelings. On the contrary, when our team wins, we continue to stay intoxicated, this time by victory. Koreans enormously like those ecstatic, reinvigorating feelings. The same thing goes with winning an election. For most Koreans, elections, too, make them intoxicated, just like sports, and you must win at any cost so you can celebrate the victory in a bar while drinking together. It is only natural that Koreans hate to lose in a competition, and when they lose they become hopelessly depressed or resentful.

A few weeks ago, I visited a cultural foundation on a business errand. I noticed that its staff members were busily receiving phone calls from people loudly protesting about something. “What is it about?” I asked them. “We just announced the prize winners in a nationwide competition, The Young Writers Literary Award,” answered one of the staff. “And mothers of those who did not win are vehemently protesting.” “What’re they complaining about?” I asked. “They insisted that their child could not possibly lose the competition and so something must have gone terribly wrong with the judges,” said the staff member, sighing heavily.

Alas! The old-fashioned, admirable Korean mothers who had traditional Eastern virtues are all gone now. Instead, Korean society today seems to be full of younger mothers who are meddling and oversolicitous about their children’s education and social life. These days, I enjoy watching “The Goldbergs” on TV, which is about an aggressive, overbearing mother, Beverly Goldberg, and her family. In Korean eyes, Beverly strikingly resembles a typical Korean mother who constantly hovers around her children. The difference is that in the States it becomes a comedy on TV, but in Korea it is the reality in which we now live.

Korean mothers, too, are sore losers. They do not accept the fact that their child can lose a competition. If a mother raises her child in such a fashion, he will grow up to be a person who cannot accept losing, even in a fair competition. Instead, he will constantly whine about it, blaming others for his misfortune.

In English, there is an expression, “You win some, you lose some.” Indeed, you cannot win all the time. As the Urban Dictionary puts it, “A sore loser is fun to taunt, but no fun to play with.” We should learn how to lose graciously. Otherwise, no one will want to befriend us. 

By Kim Seong-kon

Kim Seong-kon is a professor of English at Seoul National University and president of the Literature Translation Institute of Korea. ― Ed.