the suicide of Lee Sun-kyun

Someone slapped this up on Instapundit:

I wrote the following comment in response:

One of the worst things that can happen to a person in a group-first culture like Korea's is to be ostracized, to become what Koreans call 왕따/wangdda, or a social outcast. To be cut off from the hive is to shrivel and die. In group-first culture, then, notions of "face" and "honor" and "shame" are all public: they have to do with what others think of you, and your standing in society is affected by people's attitudes toward you, so even the impression that you've become involved with drugs (South Korea is prudish about drugs except for alcohol) is enough to drain you of social capital.

This is in contrast with guilt, which is a private thing between you and your conscience or you and God. Guilt is there whether people are watching you or not. Shame, on the other hand, only happens when you've been caught at something or erred publicly. The classic example of shame is Dr. Hwang Woo-seok, a geneticist who got caught faking data—a pattern of behavior going back years. Had he never been caught, Dr. Hwang would simply have continued along his twisted path, but because he got caught, he made a big show of repentance—tears, "getting sick" such that he went to the hospital, and bowing apologetically for supposedly having let everyone down. None of that comes from a conscience: it comes from the public sense of shame. And because the Korean public is forgiving when people grovel, Hwang eventually returned to his practice.

While many of us in the West will say suicide is a selfish act because the person committing suicide hasn't considered the effect of his death on those around him, many in places like Korea will see suicide as an altruistic gesture, an act of abject apology for having already hurt others, as well as an act that might restore one's "face" or "honor" in some measure. Far from being "the coward's way out," suicide is arguably viewed as brave or even noble. Unlike Japan, though, Korea has no grand tradition of ritual suicide, so people breathe in carbon monoxide from charcoal or leap off apartment buildings or step in front of subways (harder to do, these days, thanks to all the suicide barriers).

I'm of two minds on the whole issue. I used to have a much harsher attitude toward people who kill themselves, but working with ADHD kids years ago taught me that chemical imbalances are real, so why shouldn't this be true for clinical depression? I've also come to see, at least somewhat, the Korean point of view about suicide even if I don't accept that point of view. And there are, frankly, times when I wish members of American celebrity culture would find a sense of shame instead acting out even more after being discovered to be garbage people. Someone like Madonna can be called out as a slut, and she'll simply double down on her behavior instead of taking the honorable way out. I'd prefer that she fall on her sword, but people like her never will.

Anyway, Lee Sun-kyun's suicide is a shame and a tragedy no matter which cultural lens you view it through. Another talented person gone too soon. And even though the movie he starred in, "Parasite," was a shamelessly overt Marxist tract, it told a gripping story well. Lee was part of that.

And now, to end on a digression: I hate K-dramas. The shouting and screaming, the tears, the repetitively formulaic nature of each drama's story... my mother used to watch those dramas, and whenever I walked in on her, I'd troll her by asking, "또 우는 게? 또 싸우는 게?" They're crying again? They're fighting again? Mom would give me a sour look, then go back to her viewing.

I should explain that digression. The Instapundit commenter who uploaded the above news image started his/her comment by saying how much s/he liked K-dramas.