Rethinking Korea’s Global Brand: What We’re Missing About Ourselves
An Anthropological Perspective on Culture, Identity, and Storytelling
I recently came across an insightful interview with Pauline Brown, former North American Chairman at LVMH, in Korea’s JoongAng Ilbo. In it, she describes Korea’s explosive global popularity — through K-Pop, K-Dramas, and K-Beauty — as akin to “sweet candy,” beloved globally yet at risk of losing momentum unless it matures and gains deeper authenticity. Brown emphasizes that successful brands like Chanel offer not just products but experiences deeply connected to a nation’s history and cultural values, something Korea’s leading brands — such as Samsung and Genesis — have yet to fully accomplish. While acknowledging Korea’s remarkable ability to balance its cultural heritage with modern dynamism, she also cautions that Korea’s current branding approach, reliant on immediate visual appeal and trendiness, may soon reach its limits unless anchored in genuine storytelling and identity.
Reading this interview sparked several reflections. Some Koreans might instinctively react defensively, seeing Brown’s observations as an outsider’s simplistic critique (“She probably knows Past Lives, but does she even know The Green Fish?”). Others might readily accept her views, hurriedly using her critique to justify rapid brand strategy changes. Yet, Brown’s core point wasn’t about Korean culture itself — it was specifically about how Korea brands itself to the world.
Through this lens, the conversation becomes clearer. The real challenge for Korea lies in understanding and effectively communicating the unique social fabric and dualities that distinguish our culture, rather than relying solely on surface-level attractions.
Branding is Easy, Culture is Difficult.
Branding is the process of refining and packaging the emotions and images that naturally arise when people think of a country or a brand. National branding follows the same principle.
When you think of El Salvador, you might immediately associate it with Bitcoin. Mention Cambodia, and most people instantly picture Angkor Wat. But France? Countless images come to mind.
A strong brand resembles a machine with many small gears. The more small gears it has, the more easily it runs — each gear representing a distinct, easily recalled image or emotional association.
How about Korea’s branding?
Korea’s history is long, and our culture is unique. But the way Koreans see Korea and the way foreigners see Korea as a brand can differ significantly. Korea currently relies heavily on a few large gears: K-Pop, K-Beauty, and K-Dramas.
However, if branding depends too heavily on these big gears, the entire mechanism risks failing once even one of them fades. Just as El Salvador’s Bitcoin branding resonates primarily with crypto enthusiasts, K-culture, despite global popularity, still appeals strongly to specific niches rather than everyone.
Son Heung-min’s remarkable talent, character, and the Korean flag proudly waving at Tottenham Stadium have greatly promoted Korea’s image abroad. Yet even that gear has its lifespan.
If you ask anyone to summarize French culture succinctly, they’d struggle — because culture is inherently complex. Branding, however, is comparatively straightforward. Pauline Brown’s observations struck a chord precisely because she was addressing branding, not culture itself.
The Genesis Branding Mistake
“Luxury car buyers in the U.S. don’t really know Genesis — not due to any technological or design shortcomings, but because Genesis lacks a compelling story.”
Pauline Brown
To put it bluntly:
Genesis has no story.
Genesis initially started as a single Hyundai model name, never planned as Hyundai’s premium brand. Had history been slightly different, perhaps the brand name today would be Equus.
The car itself is excellent — guided by a clear design philosophy called “Athletic Elegance,” complete with a distinctive two-line headlamp motif. Yet, the brand narrative is nonexistent. Even the logo directly evokes Bentley and Aston Martin.
The U.S. Genesis marketing team probably realized this long ago, quietly shifting their communications to a minimalist typeface, avoiding the winged logo. But why do the cars themselves still bear the wings?
Recently, Korean Air’s brand refresh sparked considerable online debate. Regardless of whether it was successful or not, at least Korean Air clearly maintained its Korean identity — something Genesis failed to do.
Pauline Brown also noted, “Using a Samsung product doesn’t convey a particular lifestyle.” She’s correct. That’s the fundamental difference between Apple and Samsung.
It’s also why Korean Air’s rebranding didn’t strongly resonate with me. Branding should never be merely superficial; substance is essential. Singapore Airlines, for instance, plays a central role in branding Singapore as a nation.
Korea and Japan: How Are We Different?
“Japan is precise, emotional, and possesses a remarkable aesthetic intelligence, driven by meticulous craftsmanship and deep cultural preservation. But Japan emphasizes maintaining existing standards over innovation.”
Pauline Brown
In the 1980s, Japan reached its branding peak, resembling a real-life “Blade Runner” techno-utopia. But Japan’s perfectionism and hesitation towards radical innovation halted its growth. Korea picked up that baton in certain ways.
Japan and Korea remain geographically close yet culturally distant, historically entwined with unresolved issues yet significant collaborative potential. To capitalize on this, we must understand the branding differences between the two.
Living abroad, I’ve consistently noticed a special fondness Western cultures have for Japan. Though Korea’s global status has dramatically risen, Japan continues to enjoy significant affection internationally, prompting me to wonder: Why is this? Why do media outlets like Monocle consistently favor Japan?
Japan, like France, benefits from many small branding gears, resulting in a robust national brand. Pauline Brown hinted at this when comparing Japanese and Korean cuisine. Sushi is already globally codified, whereas Korean cuisine is yet to establish its global identity at that level.
In cinema, if Past Lives represents contemporary Korean storytelling abroad, Japan had Lost in Translation long before. Even more powerful was the global cultural impact of Jiro Dreams of Sushi. Does Korea have an equivalent? Not yet, though efforts like Paik Jong-won’s Rhapsody series help fill this gap.
Yet some differences between Korea and Japan are impossible to overcome:
Firstly, Japanese words are phonetically simpler — easier to pronounce, write, and remember. This gives Japanese brands an inherent global advantage. I even sometimes struggle pronouncing “tteokbokki.”
Names also matter. Japanese names sound comfortably familiar to Western ears — helping Japanese individuals integrate more easily abroad. Nakata fit seamlessly into Italian football culture, partly due to his easily pronounceable name. On the contrary, Ahn Jung-hwan faced linguistic hurdles long before scoring against Italy in 2002. Relationships always start with correctly pronouncing someone’s name.
Japanese surnames are also far more diverse than Korea’s. This inadvertently gives foreigners the false impression that Koreans lack diversity — every Korean football lineup prompts foreigners to joke, “Does Korea only have Kim, Lee, and Park?” This can lead to unintended branding challenges.
Historically, Japan’s regional autonomy during the Edo period laid the foundation for contemporary economic diversity. After the Meiji Restoration, regional specializations persisted. Today, major Japanese corporations remain distributed across regions — Toyota in Nagoya, Uniqlo in Yamaguchi, Panasonic in Osaka.
In contrast, nearly all Korean conglomerates concentrate around Seoul, forcing young Koreans nationwide to migrate to the capital, weakening regional vitality and character.
Additionally, Japan frequently passes businesses through generations, cultivating localized craftsmanship. Korean companies typically prioritize rapid change. Korean car facelifts feel more like complete redesigns, quickly making older models obsolete. Economically beneficial perhaps, but culturally unsettling.
Japan fears change; Korea fears stagnation.
Constant self-reflection and relentless comparison exhaust Korean society, heightened by geopolitical uncertainties like North Korea. This instability sometimes fuels a “carpe diem” mentality.
Japan remains deeply risk-averse — from personal finance to social interactions. Koreans impulsively act first and regret quickly afterward, whereas Japanese cautiously refrain and regret later.
Japan currently navigates slow decline; Korea strives to sustain its pace of innovation. Ideally, the two nations could positively influence each other, collectively reshaping East Asia into a global center.
Yet globally, audiences discovered Japan first. To brand Korea effectively, we must understand how others perceive Japan and position ourselves thoughtfully.
How Should Korea Brand Itself?
As discussed earlier, branding and culture aren’t interchangeable. Culture is inherently complex, yet establishing a strong national brand requires those involved to deeply understand their culture first. What, then, is the true essence of “Korean-ness”?
Korea is a civilization that has preserved a distinct culture and tradition for nearly five thousand years, even amidst powerful neighboring nations. However, civilization and culture differ fundamentally. Consider Rome, which has maintained its urban identity unchanged for centuries; residents continue to live in buildings erected generations ago, updating only interiors. Korea, by contrast, redevelops its urban landscapes roughly every 30 years, with entire environments drastically transforming within a single decade.
Our way of life has dramatically shifted over the last century. Wars led us to immense losses, forcing earlier generations to rebuild from scratch with fierce determination to survive. From this struggle emerged Korea’s extraordinary economic growth. The 20th century, in particular, was transformative — akin to the profound change one undergoes after military service — marking Korea as a distinctly different country before and after this era. Recognizing and embracing this radical change is vital.
Today, Korea is exceptionally skilled at quickly identifying global trends and reinterpreting them for local tastes. When something becomes successful abroad, Korea swiftly adopts, refines, and often enhances it. However, this process involves boldness — sometimes bordering on recklessness — frequently replacing rather than coexisting harmoniously with established cultures and traditions. This dynamic closely parallels Korea’s economic model: pursue vigorously, then quickly discard and move forward when interest wanes.
Neighborhoods like Seongsu perfectly embody Korea’s distinctive spirit today. At first glance, it might appear fragmented or chaotic, yet beneath the surface, it’s a place of endless experimentation, rapid evolution, and creative boldness. This dynamic unpredictability — vibrant, stimulating, and confidently embracing new ideas — represents one of contemporary Korea’s greatest strengths. Far from fading, Seongsu continues to thrive, constantly reinventing itself and cultivating its own unique identity.
Yet Korea before the 20th century presented an entirely different image: it was calm, quiet, and elegantly restrained. The traditional Korean hanok architecture symbolizes this refined subtlety, which continues to resonate deeply within Korean cultural DNA.
Take Pyongyang Naengmyeon broth, for example. Simple yet deeply impactful, its subtle depth resonates profoundly. Similarly, Korean content differentiates itself not merely through entertainment but through carefully capturing delicate emotional nuances beneath the surface.
Today’s Korea embodies both these extremes — the dynamic, vibrant, and trend-driven side, and the tranquil, understated, sophisticated side.
I believe this duality, along with the capacity for contrast and inclusivity, represents the critical “gears” for Korea’s national brand. This vision guides my platform, Kosmosis, aiming to craft these nuanced and essential elements.
Our grandparents’ generation tirelessly worked to elevate Korea into a global economic powerhouse. Now, it’s our responsibility to cultivate and pass down a Korean brand to future generations — a brand richer, more nuanced, and authentically resonant.
