28page

www.groovekorea.com / November 2014 28 Edited by Elaine Ramirez (elaine@groovekorea.com) COVER stORy InsIde the ‘chulIb cheo’: JoIn the club Much of Korea’s mainstream media culture is built on an intricate web of connections between the outlets, the government and big companies from the top down. Because of a combination of unique historical and cultural factors, producing news in this environment boils down to access to the elites and how to get it. The Korean media’s closest cousin is Japan. While newspapers first emerged in the late 19th century, many of the features of the modern Korean press came into being in the 1920s during Japan’s colonial rule, meaning they were largely modeled after the Japanese newspaper system. This structure continued even after the U.S. occupation of Korea, says Lee Jae-gyeong, a journalism professor at Ewha Womans University. One feature borne of this history overwhelmingly shapes how journalism is produced to this day: a culture of journalist beats, or “chulib cheo,” revolving around exclusive press clubs. Each government ministry and chaebol typically has its own press club that serves as its sole official source of information. Only members, typically journalists from the most powerful media, get access inside. These exclusive groups of journalists decide which other media organizations can join — and which can be kicked out. As with the “kisha” clubs of Japan, the South Korean equivalents often exclude foreign or minor media and freelance journalists. As a cub reporter with Gyeonggi Province-based TV network OBS, Heo Eun-sun was tasked with winning access to the Ministry of Education for her employer. “When we want to get the ability to get a desk in the press room, we should prove we are a ‘safe’ news company,” she says. In practice, this meant submitting an uncontroversial news report for daily review as well as extensive socializing with the members of the press club. To prove she was a “good girl” not out to challenge the established order, Heo had to demurely accept invitations to eat and drink with her seniors. “At that time, I wanted to quit because I didn’t know if I was a journalist or a businesswoman,” she says. Once inside the club, reporters spend much of their time socializing with government officials or company executives related to their beat. Both Heo and Newstapa’s Choi believe these relationships often become too close for journalists to maintain the necessary skepticism. “They eat together, they drink together, they become very friendly, and they listen to stories from their beat, only from their beat,” says Choi. “They never prove their stories. They never investigate.” Many journalists, Heo and Choi say, do little more than rewrite the press releases fed to them. “Journalists (here) choose one of these two options,” says Heo. “Option one, be just as a salaried worker: Just produce one to three articles per day based on some press release documents distributed by the chulib cheo. Two, try to be a real journalist: Even though it is hard for journalists who have a chulib cheo to investigate labor issues deeply every day, make an effort to listen to people outside of the chulib cheo. But, sadly, in my view, there are more journalists who choose the first option in Korea.” ‘journalists choose one of these two options. Option one, be just as a salaried worker: Just produce one to three articles per day based on some press release documents distributed by the chulib cheo. Two, try to be a real journalist: Even though it is hard for journalists who have a chulib cheo to investigate labor issues deeply every day, make an effort to listen to people outside of the chulib cheo. But, sadly, in my view, there are more journalists who choose the first option in Korea.’ Heo Eun-sun, former OBS reporter Such outside pressures on the media reach past the reporter network into management itself. On the corporate side, blackmailing conglomerates to leverage ad revenue is a newspaper industry norm. Speaking on condition of anonymity out of fear of losing her job, one journalist at a financial newspaper describes how her editors blackmail chaebol executives to take out ads by threatening them with negative stories. “They ask for advertisements and if that company doesn’t give the money, usually the reporter has to write something bad about the company,” she says, adding that it is common practice at most newspapers to approach firms in this way at certain times of the year. Similarly, she says her newspaper regularly carries glowing coverage of chaebol in exchange for money. Unlike clearly labeled “advertorials” in Western newspapers, such quid-pro-quo articles give the reader no indication of the financial exchange. Other pressure takes on a more personal flavor. Once, she says, an editor altered her story to put a negative spin on a visit by Seoul Mayor Park Won-soon to the site of a major development project. The edited article portrayed the mayor’s visit as motivated by concern over his image rather than genuine interest in safety fears surrounding the project. The reason? The newspaper chairman disliked Park. Though conscious of the compromising nature of her work, she is resigned to the reality of her profession. “I think I have gotten used to it now. It’s not good, but it’s how the newspaper companies work here,” she says.