Introduction

South Korean citizens are notorious for their distrustful views of police. While many officers undoubtedly make life-threatening and societal-harming mistakes, civilian complaints over small actions hangs over the heads of officers, forcing them be overly cautious at all times. But why is it that citizens are so distrustful towards police? One common belief is that, due to South Korea’s collective societal values, “a single negative experience with the police can … lead to collective dissatisfaction and distrust of the police” (Boateng 2016: 291). While a major incident seems to justify distrust, further research has found that in South Korea specifically, small things such as “the failure to provide social services, and slow police response times were major elements in police dissatisfaction” (Ibid., 293). This puts police in a very tight position – ridiculed for large discrepancies as well as small and unavoidable mistakes. This added pressure of community oversight forces the police officers to always be alert and professional, so as not to make any small mistakes that could lead to further distrust among civilians.

In an attempt to convince the viewership to be more understanding of the pressures on police, Live, aired in 2018 on the Korean channel tvN and directed by Kim Gyu-tae, shows the ways in which filed complaints and civilian oversight of the police can effectively ruin the livelihoods of officers – whether it be their personal or professional lives. Live utilizes situations such as emotional burnout, awareness of low pay, and possible job loss, as well as highlighting the corruption within the Internal Affairs review process, as a way to encourage its viewership to be more understanding of mistakes and discourage its views from filing complaints against officers.

 

The Policing Past 

South Korea’s policing past has left its mark on the memory its civilians, leading to understandable distrust today. From enforcing the Japanese colonization, to routinely supporting suppressive regimes, the police in South Korea have continually supported the groups associated as “against the South Korean people.”  Initially, under Japanese occupation, the police acted as a form of quazi-military, suppressing any opposition (Boateng 2016: 292). This not only left a deep hatred and distrust towards the police, but an innate fear, as well. Post-colonization, a new issue emerged as suppressive political regimes rose as South Korea new ruling powers. These regimes often relied on the police, again, to suppress any opposition, and often led to corruption within the police force itself, assigning duties based on loyalty to the regime (Moon 2003: 131-133). Once again, Korean fear was revived, and new distrust emerged as corruption spread throughout the police force.  With these memories very much on the forefront of South Korean perspective, it is understandable why such ostracization and hatred remains towards the police today.

In light of this negative history, the Korean National Police Agency took on a new set of reforms in the 1990s in order to transform its name into a more transparent and trustworthy institution. Titled the “Grand Reform,” Lee Mooyoung, the Commissioner General of the Korean Police, declared “fundamental changes to the system, culture, and practices of the police” (Ivkovic 2012: 77). This new “revision” of the police implemented greater civilian participation in police oversight, attempting to give citizens a newer, more exalted voice in the accountability of police (Kang 2011: 178). Looking at Live, despite this community-based modernization and revamp of the police, there still exists a high level of civilian distrust and an attitude of apathy employed by the police in civilian interaction. In many ways, this new strategy shifted civilians from fearing the South Korean police, to feeling empowered to directly express their dissent. This led to a shift in theoretical police power, from disregarding the civilian perspective to orienting police actions based solely on civilian reaction and complaints.

 

Officer Burnout

From simply being reluctant to take calls to the possibility of losing one’s job, police burnout is a common theme pursued throughout Live. Though this representation is fictitious, it is very much factual in nature – many South Korean police feel unsatisfied with their jobs, whether it be about inadequate pay, miniscule chance of promotion, or emotional exhaustion (Kwak 2018). Live pursues this theme through illustrating the emotional burnout officers feel, both on- and off-shift, in an attempt to awake South Korean society to the demands on police as a way to encourage citizens to rethink their complaints and distrust towards the police.

South Korea’s relatively new switch to Community-Oriented Policing has led to an increase in police burnout and apathy, due to their necessary community involvement. As South Korea transitioned to this new policing style, the roles and responsibilities of all ranks were changed, and all officers were expected to immediately commit to this new policing style (Lee 2011: 716). Although seemingly positive, Community-Oriented Policing places significant focus on community interaction and visibility, which has significantly led to one of most contributing factors to police burnout – frequent citizen interaction (Kwak 2018: 238). This, coupled with the need to remain exclusively ambiguous in the face of the public, has been an extremely high factor in the emotional stress harbored by police officers in South Korea (Ibid., 225). Countless scenes throughout Live show the continuous issue with the relationship between the police officer and civilian. From civilians barging into the station and complaining that “the customer service at the station sucks,” to officers being constantly reminded that “the safety of the police equals the safety of the citizens,” the officers in Live are constantly bombarded with the reminder of the citizen as number one (Ep. 17, 43:22, 12:04-12:13). As each officer is responsible for nearly 4,000 civilians (Ep. 13, 20:01), the emotional toll on officers is understandable. Live seeks to represent this invasive struggle officers face with the requirements of this new policing style to its viewers, to highlight the increased civilian focus within the police force.

A common issue with Community-Oriented Policing is lack of dedication to upholding this policing style as “community service is often perceived negatively as taking officers away from their Number 1 priority – fighting crime. Role conflicts may occur when officers become frustrated because of a lack of emphasis on ‘real’ law enforcement matters” (Ibid., 227). It is not that the officers lack the ambition to connect with the community, but rather that officers find their interactions with the community as ingenuine. In a briefing to a local PTA, Senior Officer Choe Myeong-ho and partner Kim Han-pyo complain about the civilian interaction, saying: “‘Gosh this is annoying. We have a lot to do. Can’t we just leave?’ ‘This is part of our job.’ ‘Why even bother asking if they’re not going to listen’” (Ep. 14, 11:03-11:52). Here, Senior Officer Choe’s complaint is two-fold: 1) their interaction with the community is taking away time from other, seemingly more important policing work, and 2) the community does not value the interaction, and likely won’t consider what the officers suggest. As officers are aware of this, their dedication, understandably, will dissipate as they fail to see the benefit in the increased community focus. Despite the fact that many civilians fail to listen to the suggestions officers have, it has been noted that the implementation of Community Oriented Policing directly affects the perceived effectiveness of the police themselves (Savage 2013: 887), so despite the apathetic attitude both officers and civilians is not enough to discontinue this new system of policing. It is no question that the officers in Live feel apathetic towards their community responsibilities. But this apathy stems, not from not wanting to connect with the community, but from feeling a lack of genuine connection with the community and hence, a waste of valuable time.

When considering further representation of police apathy and burnout in Live, Assistant Inspector Kang Nam-il stands out as one of the clearest examples of this common issue. It is easy to write off his reluctance to take calls while patrolling, hesitance to take a pay cut due to a complaint, and his overall apathetic attitude as signifier of a poor sense of duty. However, this reluctance is not due to a poor conscious, but signs of systematic and severe police burnout. Initially, Assistant Inspector Kang is represented poorly as an officer who spends his time assigning parking tickets, rather than aiding his fellow officers in routine calls. Without any background on his life, he is easily antagonized as a lazy police officer, looking for the easiest way out. However, in the middle episodes of the series, viewers are given an inside look into Assistant Inspector Kang’s life – running a pizza shop in his off hours to support his growing family of five. After this realization, viewers no longer ostracize him for his laziness, but begin to feel empathetic towards his life situation. His moments of ticket writing and watching others take calls suddenly seem more like attempts for him to rest from his busy life outside of the police station, rather than a poor sense of duty. But why is it that Assistant Inspector Kang, like other officers, must work extra hours or an extra job just to make ends meet?

In researching average police officer pay, it was found that only “16 percent [of officers] feel like they are being paid an adequate amount for the work they do while nearly half of them disagree” (Kang 2011: 184).[1] This inadequacy of pay is reflected in Live after an incident threatens Kang Nam-il, Ban Jong-min, and Kim Min-seok. After losing a highly sought-after suspect, one officer must take the blame, resulting in a three month pay dockage. Among all three officers, the pay dockage will result in harm, Assistant Inspector Kang telling his wife “Jong-min and Min-seok’s situations aren’t any better than ours. One’s having a kid, the other’s getting married, supporting his sick mom, and they don’t own their own home” (Ep. 8, 1:06:59-1:07:07). All three of these officers are living relatively normal lives with small financial setbacks, yet cannot afford a deduction in order to make it through the following three months painlessly. These pay deductions can certainly be harmful, ranging from 30-50% while still requiring the officers to work full-time (Ivkovic 2012: 79). But even without this pay deduction, some officers, like Assistant Inspector Kang, must dock extra hours outside of their work as police to make ends meet.

Officers may also face burnout and apathy due to the large discrepancy in promotional possibilities. The Korean National Police Agency is largely hierarchical – the majority of power being centralized around very few hands (Boateng 2016: 303). In order to be in an administrative position, one must attend, and graduate from the Korea National Police University or, alternatively, pass the notoriously difficult national civil service exam (Morash et al 2008: 232). This centralization of power leads to an apathetic and cynical attitude towards officers when considering promotion. It has been found that “two-thirds of [South Korean police officers] disagree that their chance of being promoted is fair, and only 9 percent of them believe they have a fair chance for promotion” (Kang 2011: 184).[2] This attitude is likely lead to police apathy, as perceived chances for promotion are incredibly low. In Live, though promotion is little discussed, the common fear of complaints shows how high-stakes promotion really is. When Officer Han Jeon-o receives a threat of complaint, she is told “formal complaints are messy. You’ll be questioned by Internal Affairs all the time and it’ll hurt your career. We’re only probationary officers” (Ep. 14, 20:52-21:17). Here, along with many other times throughout Live, not only is promotion unreasonable, but a single complaint threatens an officer’s entire career. South Korean police officers’ careers are extremely vulnerable, balanced between little professional mobility and losing one’s job due to filed complaints.

From finding Community-Oriented Policing as useless, extreme emotional stress, little pay, and no outlook on promotion, Live shows how South Korean police officers are stuck in their seemingly tiresome positions. As these officers are a key part in the upkeep of a well-running community, the demands on them are undoubtedly high. With this in mind, Live shows the intimate emotional struggles of police officers as a way to discourage the use of complaints by society. By seeing the background stories of officers and understanding the ways in which the increased focus on the community can lead to emotional burnout, viewers walk away with more education on the personal side of policing they do not see.

 

The Effect of Complaints

 With adverse social pressure on police and a bleak outlook on possible promotion, along with low pay, severe emotional distress in police officers is a common and understandable side effect. Further, as briefly discussed earlier, commonly explored throughout Live is the effect of complaints on officers. The effect of these complaints, either about excessive use of force or other seemingly non-routine actions, can range from a cut in pay to losing one’s job, and in some extreme cases, may result in severe depression. By showing the many effects formal complaints can have on police, as well as the corruption within the Internal Affairs review processes, Live attempts to reveal to viewers the true outcome of their complaint, as a way to discourage South Korean civilians from unnecessarily complaining.

In the beginning episodes of Live, the trainees are routinely ridiculed by their mentors for small mistakes as a way to ensure that seemingly inconsequential missteps do not add to the large pool of civilian distrust. Confirming the fact that small mistakes can have major impacts, Inspector Oh explains to the trainees, “you could have been accused of police brutality and ended your career here” (Ep. 4, 4:30). As it is known that police officers represent a form of symbolic power – their presence is often a public signifier of the “right” and “wrong” (Kwon 2014: 80), this role of public significance is often a large reason for officers to be complicit with the rules, as any mistakes they make are publicly visible. This constant reminder of losing one’s job due to civilian complaints and always conducting oneself in a professional manner is a common theme throughout the series, used as incentive for the officers to act according to the law, and always hold the civilian above one’s self.[3] Even in situations where officers work to protect the safety of society at large, civilians still complain. In attempting to apprehend a drunk driver refusing to take a sobriety test, threatening the lives of numerous civilians, the driver screams out “This is an excessive use of force. Please help me. The police officer just touched my body” (Ep. 18, 3:19-3:25). Although it is obvious that she is only looking for attention, hoping that the officers will let her go, a bystander comments “six officers are here to suppress one woman. That’s ridiculous,” and further question why they are grabbing her head, to which Officer Kim Han-pyo responds “If we don’t, she might get hurt,” attempting to justify these routine police action to a group of civilians who see it as excessive (Ep. 18. 3:27-3:35). Often, civilians are not aware that police officers are trained to use excessive force in some situations (Baker 2017: 684), but while six officers to apprehend one woman may seem a bit overly cautious, viewers know from the previous episodes, that the Hongil Patrol Unit had recently seen another officer shot, and hence calling on extra officers for increased safety seems quite understandable. In this situation, Live attempts to influence their viewership to be more understanding towards the actions of officers, as not only are officers reprimanded by their superiors for small mistakes early on, but the background and justification for the action is hardly known by those being apprehended in the moment.

When looking at the complaint process, it is first important to note that many complaint review bodies consist of both civilian and police force individuals, causing criminology scholar Stephen Savage to ask the question “how ‘civilian’ is civilian control” (2013: 889)? In the final episodes of Live, viewers watch Officer Yeom Sang-su’s job be put at risk through a complaint filed by an individual apprehended for attempted murder. Though unable to be seen on the bodycam footage, the suspect reaches towards Inspector Oh’s gun in an act to harm Officer Yeom, who is attempting to apprehend the suspect. The two shots Officer Yeom fires, though notably in self-defense, completely risks his entire career, as he is accused of using excessive force. The review committee in Officer Yeom’s disciplinary hearing is made up of a mix of individuals: current Korean National Police Agency employees, some neutral civilians, a retired police officer, and a human rights advocate. Ultimately, the committee rules in Officer Yeom’s favor. In sighting Prenzler and Ronken, Savage notes that “police should not investigate police,” yet also refutes this statement by sharing that “cultural proximity between those being investigated and those carrying out the investigations is… an important tool” as too much civilian interference can lead to stinted outcomes (2013: 888, 896). However, in Officer Yeom’s situation, it is only thanks to the civilian oversight on the review committee that he is not fired. Thus, given the previous experience with complaining civilians, it is surprising that the civilians on the review committee are the ones most understanding of Officer Yeom’s situation.[4]

This attempt to vilify the Internal Affairs review process and committee members is further ostracized by Live, as the two Korean National Police Agency employees on Officer Yeom’s disciplinary hearing committee are described as “vipers [who] desperately wants Sang-su gone” (Ep. 18, 49:39). While it is logical that civilian oversight tends to come with a “more critical perspective on the police” (Savage 2013: 897), Live shows that not only are the citizens increasing critical, but Internal Affairs itself is responsible for much of the action taken against officers. In considering Officer Yeom’s position, Senior Inspector Eun Gyeong-mo and An Jang-mi admit that “Sang-su is caught in the power struggle between the police and prosecution,” and may even receive a criminal charge for saving Oh Yang-chon’s life (Ep. 18, 7:05, 9:33). This fear is immediately radiated throughout the entire police force, the other teams at Hong-il Patrol Station employing fewer guns during their patrol shifts because “they think that saving lives will only cause trouble” (Ep. 18, 17:01). This strategic use of words allows Live to remind its viewers than many officers are simply trying to keep the community safe – not intentionally harm individuals. Complaints filed against officers for excessive use of force is even labeled “the police jackpot” (Ep. 15, 16:59), showing citizen awareness of the power of complaints, as their complaints only call on Internal Affairs investigations, who are increasingly critical of police actions.[5]

In a further critique of Internal Affairs, An Jang-mi claims that the “enemies of the police officers aren’t annoying civilian complaints. It’s our country that spits us out after using us” referencing a seemingly corrupt and severe reprimand by her superiors (Ep. 15, 48:45-48:53). While noting that civilian complaints are indeed responsible for much of the hardship officers face, An Jang-mi highlights the lack of protection officers feel they have under Internal Affairs is radiated throughout the series. Complaints are described as things that “dictate” the careers of officers because they are “powerless,” and that “all [Internal Affairs] care[s] about is the manual” rather than their emotional wellbeing and personal safety (Ep. 14, 18:39, Ep. 15, 21:16-21:22). This awareness of a lack of emotional understanding and support from Internal Affairs is further represented by An Jang-mi, who comments on the high suicide rate of police officers,[6] stating “now that I’ve been burned by my own people, I can understand how those statistics came to be” (Ep. 15, 48:11-48:45). This widely accepted understanding displayed by officers illustrates the heightened potential of a disrupted career and negative mental toll through not only civilian complaints, but by the failure of fair representation through Internal Affairs.

In showing the many ways these complaints can affect police officers, Live uses the commonality of filing complaints throughout many episodes as a way to show the harm it has on officers. In many of these situations, Live is careful to ensure that the viewers are able to see the justification of the use of force, so that they sympathize with the officer when a complaint is filed. In most cases, the use of force throughout Live seems somewhat justified, even if it resulted in severe harm to the receiving party. In a further attempt to discourage complaints, Live also shows the corruption within the Internal Affairs review process, attempting to show viewers that their complaints can have a much more negative effect once it is sent for review. With this, Live hopes to encourage its viewers to be more understanding in complaints of excessive use of force, as often, the use of force is not only “justified” but also can have extreme emotional and professional tolls on the officers.

 

Conclusion

 The popular Korean TV series, Live, employs a number of examples and common experiences held by South Korean police officers as a way to provide background information on the common complaints many South Korean civilians may have. By using emotional burnout, awareness of low pay, possible job loss, and the corruption of Internal Affairs, viewers are asked to sympathize, not only with the fictional officers in Live, but with the real South Korean police officers as well. Viewers are reminded that officers carry a number of stressors and are yet still required to function at an extremely high level to ensure the safety of their civilians, and hence, citizens should be more understanding of mistakes officers make. By filing complaints, viewers are reminded that the effect on officers is likely much larger than they anticipate – and even if the actions taken by officers are routine and justified, their careers can be completely threatened once the Internal Affairs review process takes place. Through highlighting this reality, Live hopes to discourage its viewership from filing complaints, and hence, adopt a more understanding attitude to the officers who work to keep society running smoothly.

 

Word Count: 3,829

 

Bibliography

Baker, Melissa A., Verne R. Bacharach. “Police Officer-Civilian Confrontations Caught on Camera: The Influence of Contextual Frames on Judgments of Excessive Force.” American Journal of Criminal Justice 42, no. 4 (2017): 683-697.

Boateng, Francis D., Heeuk D. Lee, and Gassan Abess. “Analyzing Citizens’ Reported Levels of Confidence in the Police: A Cross-National Study of Public Attitudes Toward the Police in the United States and South Korea.” Asian Criminology 11, no. 4 (2016): 289-308.

Ivkovic, Sanja Kutnjak. “Police Integrity in South Korea.” Policing: An International Journal of Police Strategies & Management 35, no. 1 (2012): 76-103.

Kang, Wook, Mahesh K. Nalla. “Perceived Citizen Cooperation, Police Operational Philosophy, and Job Satisfaction on Support for Civilian Oversight of the Police in South Korea.” Asian Journal of Criminology 6, no.2 (2011): 177-189.

Kwak, Hyounggon, Susan McNeely, and Sung-Hwan Kim. “Emotional Labor, Role Characteristics, and Police Officer Burnout in South Korea: The Mediating Effect of Emotional Dissonance.” Police Quarterly 21, no. 2 (2018): 223-249.

Kwon, Jong Bum. “Forging a Modern Democratic Imaginary: Police Sovereignty, Neoliberalism, and the Boundaries of Neo-Korea.” East Asia Cultures Critique 22, no. 1 (2014): 71-101.

Lee, Chang-Hun. “Factors Affecting Strategy Commitment to Community-Oriented Policing (COP) Among South Korean Police Officers.” Policing: An International Journal of Police Strategies & Management 34, no. 4 (2011): 713-734.

Moon, Byongook. “The Politicization of Police in South Korea: A Critical Review.” Policing: An International Journal of Police Strategies & Management 27, no.1 (2003): 128-136.

Morash, M., D. Kwak, V. Hoffman, C. Lee, S. Cho, and B. Moon. “Stressors, coping resources and strategies, and police stress in South Korea.” Journal of Criminal Justice 36 no. 3 (2008):  pp. 231-239.

Savage, Stephen P. “Seeking ‘Civilianness’: Police Complaints and Civilian Control Model of Oversight.” British Journal of Criminology 53, no. 5 (2013): 886-904.

 

Footnotes

[1] This data is not representative of the entire South Korean police force, but rather a small sample of officers.

[2] This data is not representative of the entire South Korean police force, but rather a small sample of officers.

[3] For interesting statistics regarding what South Korean police officers regard as “excessive force” and acceptable punishment, see: Ivkovic, Sanja Kutnjak. “Police Integrity in South Korea.” Policing: An International Journal of Police Strategies & Management 35, no. 1 (2012): 76-103.

[4] Though notably, it was due to a civilian complaint that Officer Yeom was put in this disciplinary situation in the first place.

[5] Though ironically, it has been noted that the Community Oriented Policing model arose out of complaints with the “lack of robustness associated with the internal affairs approach” (Savage 2013: 888).

[6] Police officers commit suicide more than any other civil employee, and their average lifespan is about 63 years. (Live, ep. 15, 48:11).