Korea is one of the thinnest countries. Why is everyone on Wegovy?

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Korea is one of the thinnest countries. Why is everyone on Wegovy?

Published: 23 May. 2025, 07:00 Updated: 02 Jun. 2025, 21:26

Audio report: written by reporters, read by AI

The door of a pharmacy in Jongno District, central Seoul, is covered with posters promoting various products related to weight-loss products. [YOON SEUNG-JIN]

Korea has one of the lowest obesity rates in the world. Just over four percent of its population has a body mass index (BMI) above 30, according to a 2023 Organisation for Economic Cooperation and Development (OECD) report. And yet, sales of the weight-loss drug Wegovy are through the roof.

Wegovy launched in Korea on Oct. 15 last year, following its U.S. debut in June 2021 and strong performance in Denmark, Germany and Britain. The drug quickly became a nationwide sensation, contributing significantly to Danish manufacturer Novo Nordisk's sales. The drugmaker reported a 62.7 percent increase in revenue to 374.6 billion won ($271.4 million) in the country in 2024. Last month, Novo Nordisk's Korean arm applied to expand Wegovy, currently greenlit for adults, to teenagers 12 and older.

Semaglutide, the compound in Wegovy, was developed in 2004. Ozempic, which also contains semaglutide, has been used to treat diabetes in the United States since 2017. Wegovy was approved to treat obesity in the United States in 2021. A majority of patients lose an average of 16.9 percent of their body weight with long-term use of the drug, according to recent studies; it has also been linked to reduced cardiovascular risk.

But its rise has not been without controversy. Novo Nordisk also advises users to consider side effects such as abdominal pain, hypoglycemia and inflammation of the pancreas, as well as increased risk of issues of the intestines, joints and kidneys. Korea's Ministry of Health and Welfare banned its remote prescription on Dec. 2, citing “misuse and improper prescription.”

Officially, Korea's Ministry of Food and Drug Safety is quite conservative with its guidelines. Despite its demographic differences with the United States — more than a third of whose citizens are obese per the OECD's report — it recommends that doctors follow the U.S. Food and Drug Administration's (FDA) guidelines, prescribing the medication only to patients with a BMI with 30 or higher, as well as those with a BMI of 27 or higher who have comorbidities.

On the ground, however, Korean doctors do not appear to be paying particular attention to those guidelines.

An underground Wegovy network

In online communities and anonymous KakaoTalk chat rooms, hundreds of users share the addresses of clinics that will prescribe Wegovy without asking too many questions. “It took me only 10 seconds to get my prescription,” one user writes. “It’s so easy to get Wegovy, even if you don’t meet the basic requirements,” another comment reads. Clinics in Seoul, Daejeon, Busan and Suwon confirmed to the Korea JoongAng Daily that they were willing to issue Wegovy prescriptions to patients who did not meet the government's guidelines.

Experts say that, in addition to the miniscule proportion of Korean citizens who actually “qualify” for Wegovy under the FDA's guidelines, profit is a major factor in those decisions. Wegovy is not covered by Korea's national health insurance, and a month's supply goes for an average of 372,000 won.

“These clinics aren’t prescribing Wegovy to treat obesity,” said Lee Jae-hyuk, an endocrinology professor at Myongji University and director of the Korean Society for the Study of Obesity's Committee of General Affairs. “Their focus is just to make profit.”

Novo Nordisk, for its part, claims not to condone this behavior. “Novo Nordisk does not encourage off-label use of our medicines,” a spokesperson said. “Novo Nordisk strictly communicates approved prescription medicine indications to health care professionals in compliance with local regulations.”

Pedestrians pass by pharmacies and clinics in central Seoul. [NEWS1]

But the broader question of why a weight-loss medication is so profitable in a nation with such a low obesity rate persists. Experts say the answer lies in beauty standards.

A 2023 Korean Society for the Study of Obesity survey found that 32 percent of Korean people with a BMI classified as “normal” and 5 percent of those with one classified as “underweight” considered themselves overweight.

“In Korea, thin bodies are considered the ideal, and the pressure to conform is relentless,” said Choi Hyung-jin, a professor of biomedical sciences at Seoul National University. Among female respondents, 71 percent believed that Korean society discriminates against people based on their weight.

Those effects can be more pronounced in teenagers.

“The constant reinforcement of narrow beauty standards creates unnecessary pressure, especially on teenagers, leading them to adopt harmful behaviors,” Lee said. Just over 18 percent of female anorexia patients were under the age of 20, according to National Health Insurance Service data submitted to the Democratic Party in 2023.

And experts warn that while no specific physical side effects have been found exclusively in teenagers, they may be more susceptible to overuse.

“Because young individuals are more sensitive to beauty standards, they can be easily influenced and fall into overuse or misuse, requiring stricter regulations and caution,” said Lee.

Wegovy products are displayed at a launch event in Seoul on Oct. 15 to mark Wegovy's arrival in Korea. [YONHAP]

In the office

When I walked into an otolaryngology clinic to get my own Wegovy prescription, I was nervous. I had no appointment. I passed a man and woman who were strikingly good-looking and slim on the way up the stairs, making me take a second glance at myself in the mirror.

I nervously approached reception, sweating and avoiding eye contact as I asked for the prescription, then entered the doctor's office before I had fully caught my breath.

At my regular allergy checkup, I would've expected the practitioner to ask questions about my current health conditions, give me some precautions, warn me of possible side effects and instruct me on how to take the medicine before issuing a prescription.

But in this office, the doctor just asked, “Do you want Wegovy?”

I nodded.

“Any allergies to medication?” he followed up.

“No.”

He wrote me a prescription.

It wasn't until I'd left the building, and was back in the streets of Seoul — back among a line of pharmacies whose glass doors were plastered with an overwhelming volume of posters reading “We have Wegovy” and “No need for a prescription,” as if they were casually promoting new vitamins — that I realized I had questions. How would I inject this? How often? What would it feel like? Was it safe for me to take with other medications I was taking? Was it safe for me to take at all?

A pharmacist hands out a Wegovy pen at a pharmacy in Jongno District, central Seoul. [YONHAP]

It wasn't just the lack of questions that took me aback — it was the overall lack of information I'd been provided when I was in a vulnerable state.

And I knew it wasn't just me. It was everyone in that waiting room.

BY YOON SEUNG-JIN,PARK EUN-JEE [[email protected]]