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When vulnerabilities become fatal in politics

Published: 06 May. 2026, 00:02

Ko Jung-ae

The author is the editor-in-chief at the JoongAng Sunday.

Two scenes, one from sports and another from television, offer a lens into how power can unravel when weaknesses are mishandled.

First, consider retired tennis player Andy Roddick. After losing to Roger Federer in the 2005 Wimbledon final, his remarks stood out. It was his second consecutive defeat. Half joking, he said he hoped Federer might grow tired of tennis or move on to something else. Then he added a more telling reflection.

“Even if it becomes one win to 31 losses, I still want to beat him. I will face him again. Who wouldn’t want to compete with the best? He is the benchmark that shows me where I stand and where I need to go.”

President Lee Jae Myung answers reporters’ questions after delivering a special address to the nation marking the first anniversary of the Dec. 3 martial law crisis, titled “One Year After the Revolution of Light,” at the presidential office in Yongsan, Seoul, on Dec. 3, 2025. [YONHAP]

There was something poignant in that statement. Roddick was known for his powerful serve, among the best in the game. His backhand, however, was ordinary. Federer repeatedly exploited that weakness. Over time, other players followed the same approach. Roddick was initially known as a player who lost to Federer. Eventually, he became one who lost to many others as well.

The second example comes from the U.S. television series “Homeland” (2011). It follows Elizabeth Keane, a politician who survives an assassination attempt and becomes president. After learning that elements within the intelligence community had plotted against her, she becomes consumed by fear and anger, convinced that she could be eliminated at any time. This leads her to make a series of extreme decisions, including ordering the mass arrest of 200 federal intelligence officers.

In the end, she reflects on her actions. The attempt on her life had been terrifying. She had been enraged and driven by a desire for revenge. Although she believed her actions were not illegal, she acknowledged they were wrong. Her response to the threat ultimately eroded her own legitimacy.

These stories are not simply about sports or fiction. They illustrate a broader dynamic. Everyone has weaknesses. A weakness becomes a fatal vulnerability not only because it exists, but because of how one responds to it. Excessive defensiveness can signal to others where to strike. It can invite further attacks and unsettle one’s composure, leading to misjudgment. The crisis itself may not be decisive. The response often is.

Roddick, increasingly conscious of his backhand, leaned too heavily on his serve and forehand. His game plan became predictable and easier to counter. Elizabeth Keane, though genuinely under threat, reacted in ways that alienated even her allies, making her appear to be the problem. At one point, she feared that whatever she said would be dismissed as false by half the public.

This pattern can be seen in real politics as well. Former President Yoon Suk Yeol offers one example. His vulnerability lay in controversies surrounding First Lady Kim Keon Hee. Each time criticism intensified, his responses appeared increasingly emotional and unbalanced. The situation was compounded by a governance structure in which significant political decisions were effectively outsourced to her. While hypothetical, it is conceivable that if she had remained politically engaged during mounting investigations, the failed Dec. 3, 2024, attempt to impose martial law could have been avoided. The relationship became a source of both strength and instability.

People Power Party leader Jang Dong-hyeok, center, speaks at a press briefing at the National Assembly on May 5, strongly criticizing the ruling camp’s push for a special counsel probe into alleged “prosecutorial fabrication of indictments.” The slogan in the background reads, “Even the president should go to prison if he commits a crime.” [YONHAP]

Signs of limitation are also emerging around President Lee Jae Myung. He has shown a pragmatic and rational style rarely seen in recent presidents, reflected in approval ratings in the 60 percent range. Yet when it comes to his own legal challenges, that rationality appears less consistent. Moves such as proposals to dismantle the prosecution service, push forward judicial reform bills and consider a special counsel tied to case dismissals have raised questions about balance.

Recent messaging from the presidential office suggested that public consensus had formed around the need for further investigation, while leaving timing and procedures to the ruling party. Even progressive outlets interpreted this as a delayed but inevitable step. In contrast to last year, when Lee exercised restraint by warning against turning legislation related to his case into political conflict, that restraint now seems diminished.

Why does this happen? The answer lies in how vulnerabilities are handled. When leaders respond with excessive defense, they risk turning manageable weaknesses into critical pressure points. What begins as a personal liability can evolve into a defining flaw that shapes both perception and decision-making.

This article was originally written in Korean and translated by a bilingual reporter with the help of generative AI tools. It was then edited by a native English-speaking editor. All AI-assisted translations are reviewed and refined by our newsroom.