From Olympiad gold to Nobel Prize: Why is the gap so wide?

Oh Se-jung

The author is a professor emeritus of physics and astronomy and a former president of Seoul National University. 

Every July, students from around the world gather for the International Science Olympiads. This year is no exception. Beginning with the International Physics Olympiad on July 4, competitions in chemistry, mathematics and biology have followed, with contests in informatics, Earth science and astronomy and astrophysics scheduled for August.

Korea has participated in these competitions since entering the International Mathematical Olympiad in 1988 and has consistently produced outstanding results. This year alone, every Korean contestant won a gold medal in both the International Physics Olympiad and the International Biology Olympiad, earning overall team championships. These achievements demonstrate that Korea's most gifted students are fully competitive with the world's best.

Yet one question continues to surface: Why has Korea still not produced a Nobel laureate in the natural sciences? Do these exceptionally talented students somehow lose their creativity as they grow older?

The answer lies in the different meanings of being "good at science." Olympiad problems, however difficult, already have correct answers based on established knowledge. Success depends on thoroughly understanding existing theories and applying them accurately. Nobel Prize-winning discoveries are fundamentally different. They open unexplored fields or overturn accepted ideas by revealing their limitations and proposing new ways of understanding nature. Great scientists do more than master existing knowledge; they challenge it and create something original.

Unfortunately, Korea's education and research systems remain poorly designed to cultivate that ability. Throughout primary and secondary education, students are rewarded for mastering established knowledge as efficiently as possible, largely because of the pressure of the College Scholastic Ability Test. Questions that challenge conventional thinking are often discouraged. As a result, students may become outstanding Olympiad competitors without developing the intellectual independence required of groundbreaking scientists.

This pattern frequently continues through university and graduate school. Many doctoral students complete their degrees by producing competent research that extends existing knowledge rather than challenging prevailing assumptions. They become skilled researchers, but not necessarily pioneers.

The problem does not disappear once they begin independent careers. Instead, it takes a different form. Research funding becomes the central concern, and failure to produce results can seriously damage future prospects. Consequently, researchers often pursue projects with predictable outcomes by combining established ideas instead of proposing bold new directions.

The system also discourages originality during grant reviews. Researchers who propose ideas that differ from mainstream thinking often struggle to win funding because reviewers are reluctant to back untested approaches. There is even a saying among scientists: a proposal claiming, "This is a completely original idea," is less likely to succeed than one saying, "Leading countries have already begun similar research, and we can quickly catch up." In Korea, following others is often safer than leading.

The problem is compounded by the country's longstanding view of science as a tool for economic growth. Korea's Constitution even states that the government should promote science and technology to develop the national economy. As a result, basic research aimed at expanding human knowledge has often received less support.

The Laser Interferometer Gravitational-Wave Observatory (LIGO), which confirmed gravitational waves predicted by Albert Einstein and contributed to the 2017 Nobel Prize in Physics, offers a contrast. The U.S. National Science Foundation supported the project for more than two decades beginning in 1990. A similarly long-term investment in Korea would likely have faced criticism long before producing results.

Today, however, the environment has changed. AI already knows far more established knowledge than any individual, and AI scientists may not be far away. The role of human researchers is therefore shifting from mastering existing knowledge to asking questions no one else has asked.

Korea has also become an advanced economy. Rather than relying on discoveries made elsewhere, it must contribute new knowledge by exploring paths no one has taken before — the very approach that defines Nobel Prize-winning research.

To make that possible, Korea's education and research systems must shift from rewarding those who follow established paths to encouraging those who create new ones. Such a transformation is essential not only for the AI era but also for Korea's next stage of national development.