What must, need not and should not be done

Yeh Young-june

The author is the head of the editorial board at the JoongAng Ilbo. 

During the Moon Jae-in administration, at a time of heightened tensions with Japan, the president summoned the minister of oceans and fisheries after a Cabinet meeting and made an unusual request: “I heard Korean sea lions once lived on Dokdo. Please look into ways to restore them.”

The reasoning was straightforward. Reviving the animals, called gangchi in Korean, driven to extinction by Japanese overfishing, could strengthen Korea’s claim to the islets and bolster public diplomacy. But the idea rested on an impossible premise. Unlike the dinosaurs in “Jurassic Park” (1993), whose resurrection depended on fictional DNA preserved in fossils, the gangchi left no genetic material to work with.

Even so, the minister could hardly dismiss the president’s proposal outright. Researchers were consulted, and alternatives such as importing related species were explored before officials finally reported that restoration was impossible.

Why do such episodes occur? The fairy tale in which no one dares tell the king that he is naked occasionally finds its counterpart in real life.

Earlier this month, the Ministry of Health and Welfare abruptly canceled a policy forum on extending national health insurance coverage to hair-loss treatment, an issue in which President Lee Jae Myung has repeatedly shown interest. Critics argued that scarce public resources should instead go to patients with severe illnesses and rare diseases.

Whether the proposal has been abandoned remains unclear, but it is fortunate that the government did not rush ahead. Had the president not shown interest, the ministry would likely never have treated the issue as a priority.

Lee later raised another contentious matter: the introduction of the abortion drug Mifegyne. The issue involves medical risks, legal liability and ethical questions. There is merit to the argument that illegal online purchases are already widespread. But once a president publicly raises an issue, few officials regard it as a mere suggestion. In Korea’s bureaucracy, presidential instructions quickly become policy.

Many initiatives emerge in exactly this way. Recently, Kang Yu-jung, the presidential spokesperson, announced that authorities had uncovered more than 1,100 cases in which sanitation workers had been underpaid. Correcting such injustices deserves praise, but one may ask why the presidential office made the announcement.

Kang emphasized that the investigation had been conducted “on the president’s instructions.” Other aides frequently use the same phrase. Perhaps this reflects loyalty, but is it really necessary? Would it not be more appropriate for the relevant ministries to make such announcements themselves?

During the Yoon Suk Yeol administration, aides constantly repeated that “the president is furious.” The expression was intended to underscore presidential authority, yet many citizens found it unsettling. Governance should not fluctuate with the emotions of a single leader, and even the annals of the Joseon Dynasty (1392-1910) record instances in which officials softened royal anger rather than amplifying it.

The current administration’s emphasis on “presidential instructions” is far less troubling, but it still risks weakening initiative within the civil service.

Curiously, however, there is one matter on which Lee has refrained from giving clear direction: whether prosecutors should retain supplementary investigative powers. At press conferences in January and June, he said that such powers remain necessary in exceptional cases. As a former lawyer familiar with both prosecutors and police, he appeared to be expressing a considered judgment.

Yet Lee has deferred to the National Assembly, citing political realities. In practice, he has left the issue to the ruling DP while stepping back himself. Hard-line lawmakers have intensified their campaign, aided by broadcaster Kim Eo-jun’s allegations of political deals involving prosecutors’ authority.

The issue has now become entangled with the DP leadership race and turned into a test of ideological purity. Even the lessons of the Jang Yun-gi case, which exposed alleged police misconduct, have largely been ignored.

If Lee truly believes, as he said in June, that he bears responsibility for shaping Korea’s criminal justice system, he should step forward and resolve the confusion. Otherwise, he risks criticism that his principles and actions no longer align.

A nation suffers under an ignorant, lazy and incompetent president. But would citizens necessarily prosper under one who is learned, diligent and capable? Those qualities may be necessary, but they alone are not sufficient. Every leader faces three kinds of tasks: things that must be done, things that would be nice to do and things that should never be done. Success depends on distinguishing among them, setting priorities and acting at the right moment. For any president, attending to essential responsibilities alone should already consume all the time available.