 |
Office workers commuting to work in Yeouido (Yonhap) |
Jang Yun-jeong, 28, grew up in a world where numbers defined her worth. From academic achievements to salary and social status, her standing was calculated in terms of scores, grades and ranks.
At school, where comparison was at its most ruthless, Jang received report cards after every midterm and final exam, which displayed her rank in each subject within her class and the entire school. These numbers made her constantly aware of where she stood relative to her classmates.
"Feeling the need to outperform my classmates, I became increasingly obsessed with scores and rankings," Jang said.
After graduation, grades were replaced by other metrics like age, salary and assets. It was only after she left South Korea that she truly grasped the pervasive influence of numbers on her life here.
"In Canada, I felt myself becoming more distant from numbers," Jang, the author of an autobiographical book of essays titled “Lost in Vancouver,” told The Korea Herald.
As someone who works in the field of education, Jang said she was impressed to find an education system that does not rely wholly on numeric evaluations to assess a student's performance. From what she has observed so far, all levels of education in Canada, from elementary school to university, use an absolute -- not relative -- grading system in which each student is graded according to fixed standards instead of a comparison with others. This environment encourages not only academic performance but also participation in extracurricular activities and sports, she explained.
Life shaped by rankings
The emphasis on rankings and numbers is deeply embedded in various aspects of Korean society, serving as the basis for the many hierarchies that permeate everyday life.
High schools across the nation are ranked annually based on the number of students they send to the top-ranked Seoul National University. The year a student enters college identifies them with a cohort that forms the basis of many relationships they build while in school and later in life, including those with other alumni. For example, students entering in 2025 are referred to as the “class of ’25,” and this designation determines their seniority or junior status when interacting with others from the same school.
When cheering for Team Korea during the Olympics, as seen in this summer’s games in Paris, the most widely used measure of Korea’s performance cited in local media is the country’s standing in the medals table.
 |
Korean media keeps reporting on how many medals Korean athletes are winning (Yonhap) |
Music is no exception to this obsession with numbers.
The nation's most popular music television programs, "Inkigayo" and "Show! Music Core," feature live performances by leading K-pop artists and rank their songs based on various criteria, including digital sales, album sales, YouTube views, social media mentions and real-time voting by fans.
Although comparison is to some extent a human instinct, “No country in the world loves ranking things more than Korea. This is because Koreans are so accustomed to competition. It is the soul of this society,” said Kim Nu-ry, a professor in Chung-Ang University’s German literature department and author of multiple books on Korean society.
From an early age, Koreans are exposed to constant competition and are conditioned to be mindful of how they rank in comparison to others, he explained.
“They see ranking and competition as something natural and desirable because it leads to progress and growth,” he said. "The reasons for this are deeply connected to modern Korean history."
 |
Music program Inkigayo ranks idol performers. (Screenshot of SBS Inkigayo) |
‘Driver of progress’
Ranking things can have a positive effect, as numerical goals and comparisons provide clear guidance for achievement.
For example, setting specific sales targets or outlining action plans that include clear deadlines and percentage goals can motivate employees. Similarly, recognizing and rewarding top students can encourage their peers to study harder.
This is the approach taken by Korea as a nation in its quest to lift itself out of postwar poverty and achieve prosperity, explains Kim Soo-han, professor of sociology at Korea University.
Korea’s remarkable development, as noted by the World Bank, of becoming “one of the few countries that has successfully transformed itself from a low-income to a high-income economy,” is deeply intertwined with numerical assessments.
Sociologist Kim said that numbers were a convenient tool for leaders in managing national development. Administrations have presented national goals in terms of key metrics, such as the percentage growth of the gross domestic product, export volume or per-capita income, and even after goals were achieved, leaders have continued to promote them to the public in order to reinforce their own legitimacy.
In particular, former President Park Chung-hee, an iron-fisted leader who ruled the country from 1961 to 1979, set numerical targets during each of his five-year economic development plans, such as average annual economic growth rates and export increase rates. This emphasis on using numbers to quantify national development progress continued under subsequent governments.
Former President Lee Myung-bak’s main campaign slogan was the “747 plan,” which aimed for 7 percent economic growth, $40,000 gross domestic product per capita and Korea becoming one of the world’s top seven economies.
Former President Park Geun-hye then put forward her “474 vision,” targeting 4 percent economic growth, a 70 percent employment rate and GDP per capita of $40,000.
 |
Former President Lee Myung-bak’s main campaign slogan, the 747 plan (Namu wiki) |
“The Korean government has proceeded based on the slogan that if each and every one in this country would strive just a little bit harder, we could surpass the countries ahead of us and become a middle-power nation, and with a little more effort, we could become an advanced nation,” said Kim Soo-han. “They have constantly emphasized where we stand globally, what our rankings are and how our gross national income measures up. Election posters have always been filled with numbers.”
Many believe the approach has been successful, as Korea, which was one of the world's poorest countries after the Korean War, has become the 14th-largest economy in a little more than 60 years. The nation’s GDP per capita stood at $78 in 1960, seven years after the war ended in an armistice in 1953. By 2022, it had reached $32,410, reflecting an increase of more than 410 fold over 62 years.
Value of the unquantifiable
Though that era of high national economic growth has passed, the influence of numbers in Korea has only intensified.
In fact, quantifying everything in daily life -- from calories and "likes" to how many steps one walks, and even friendships -- is to a certain extent a global phenomenon, as noted by co-authors Micael Dahlen and Helge Thorbjornsen in the 2023 book, “More Numbers Every Day.” The world is experiencing a “numberdemic,” the two economists write.
Professor of German literature Kim Nu-ry says that South Korea is suffering from the side effects of its overuse of numbers.
“This has made South Korea into an appallingly competitive society,” the professor said, warning Koreans not to blindly accept the ideology of meritocracy as an unquestionable good.
Sociologist Kim Soo-han pointed out that the lack of diversity and the uniformity of lifestyles in Korean society exacerbate the issues associated with rankings.
When people’s preferences for jobs, housing, schools and fashion become more similar, it becomes easier to rank them.
He used housing as a typical example. About 90 percent of Seoul's population lives in apartment buildings or other types of multiunit housing. When individuals live in freestanding houses on their own land, it is harder to make comparisons. However, in the case of standardized apartments, by knowing the neighborhood and size of the unit, one can estimate their approximate value -- and potentially their owners' assets, which has become a measure for assessing someone's status here.
"Koreans can roughly figure out someone just by asking a few questions: how old are you, where do you live, where did you go to school and where do you work,” he said.
“Imagine there were 1,000 different types of fruit in a fruit shop. It would be challenging to rank them. However, if all 1,000 fruits were apples, the comparison would seem much easier. You might simply compare their weight, sweetness and size," he said.
Some things in life, though, just cannot be quantified, he stressed.
“You can’t rank happiness, well-being, satisfaction, art, music or even rest.”
In some other societies, people seek satisfaction from within, he said, focusing on one's own values and self-assessment, whereas in Korea, they have been taught to find happiness and self-worth through external comparisons.
“This reliance on comparison often leads to a heightened focus on measurable achievements, such as grades, job titles or income, but it can also lead to less happiness, as people may constantly feel inadequate or anxious about where they stand in relation to others.
