The age of post-truth is also the age of post-democracy

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The age of post-truth is also the age of post-democracy

Published: 30 Oct. 2025, 00:01

Audio report: written by reporters, read by AI

Chin Jung-kwon

The author is a professor at Kwangwoon University.

The phenomenon once confined to the fringes — post-truth — has now become the center of public life. The real danger lies not in the noise it generates, but in how it dissolves our shared sense of reality. Korean politics today is driven less by facts than by fabricated stories that take on the force of belief.

Jung Chung-rae, the newly elected leader of the Democratic Party, waves the party flag after winning the leadership election during the national convention held at KINTEX in Goyang on Aug. 2. Under his leadership, the party has maintained a strong offensive against the opposition People Power Party and continued to push through contentious bills. [JOINT PRESS CORPS]

One story claims that former President Yoon Suk Yeol and his wife, Kim Keon Hee, were caught smuggling drugs to fund a coup and that former Justice Minister Han Dong-hoon covered it up. The tale goes further, alleging a conspiracy across the police, prosecution, customs service and the National Intelligence Service. The scale of the accusation itself calls into question the mental health of those spreading it. Unsurprisingly, two suspects who had initially given false statements to Inspector Baek Hae-ryong have since recanted, and another had shown symptoms of schizophrenia from the outset.

Another story alleges that prosecutors destroyed banknote straps to obstruct an investigation. Yet the Bank of Korea confirmed in a recent parliamentary hearing that those bands contain no information on currency distribution.

A third claims that Judge Ji Gui-yeon accepted entertainment at room salons at least twenty times. The claim came from Jung Ui-chan, a senior aide in the Democratic Party’s floor leadership, who offered no evidence — just as he did not in a 1997 case when an innocent citizen was tortured to death after being branded a spy.

A fourth story accuses Supreme Court Chief Justice Jo Hee-de of conspiring with former Prime Minister Han Duck-soo and former Prosecutor General Chung Sang-myoung to commit treason. The only supposed evidence was a voice recording manipulated by artificial intelligence. When that fell apart, a new narrative emerged — that the court meddled in the presidential election.

If the Supreme Court had intended to intervene, it would have simply overturned the verdict. Even the two justices who dissented from the ruling raised no objection to its timing. Are we now to believe that two justices from the liberal judges’ association Our Law Society plotted election interference?

The reaction to these accusations has been surreal. The president reportedly ordered Inspector Baek’s inclusion in the investigation team. The justice minister referred the currency strap issue to a permanent special counsel. The Democratic Party leader demanded the chief justice’s resignation, while the Rebuilding Korea Party began impeachment proceedings.

What began as conspiracy-laden YouTube content suddenly became public “fact,” endorsed by the highest offices of state. Meanwhile, official findings from national institutions — such as the Supreme Court, the Bank of Korea, and the Supreme Prosecutors’ Office — were dismissed or ignored.

“The banknote straps contain no such information,” said the Bank of Korea. “There was a procedural lapse, but no order to destroy evidence,” said the prosecution. “No grounds for disciplinary action,” said the Supreme Court. In a post-truth age, even official statements from state institutions lose their authority against the pull of political fiction.

Post-truth inevitably breeds post-democracy. Whether it was Democratic Party lawmakers storming the Supreme Court or Yoon supporters breaking into the Seoul Western District Court, the substance is the same — both are symptoms of an already unfolding post-democratic moment.

Those who justify emergency decrees to crush the opposition, and those who erode judicial independence in the name of purging “traitors,” share a common disdain for liberal democracy. The crisis of democracy is hardly unique to Korea — it is global.

“Everything is innocent,” declared Legislative Policy Chief Jo Won-cheol, asserting that President Lee Jae Myung faces no criminal liability. Yet the election law conviction against him has already been finalized. The statement effectively nullified the authority of the judiciary.

Former constitutional Court head Moon Hyung-bae warned, “Do not mistake human error for systemic error.” This fatal misunderstanding shows that the so-called reforms pursued by the ruling bloc are not products of sound institutional design but of a revolutionary fiction of their own making.

Moon added, “Even senior lawmakers say they can no longer speak freely. Is this the democracy you dreamed of?” Public discourse has long been supplanted by agitation, amplified through YouTube. Within the party, any dissent earns the label “watermelon” — green on the outside, red within — meaning someone who appears loyal to the Democratic Party, whose color is green, but is secretly aligned with the conservative People Power Party, represented by red. The term is used by hard-line Democratic supporters to brand internal critics as traitors, and such labeling often ends political careers. The knives of ideological purity are now turning inward. Inspector Baek denounced prosecutor Lim Eun-jung as a “watermelon,” and Democratic Party lawmaker Choi Min-hee went so far as to denounce broadcaster MBC — widely seen today as strongly aligned with the ruling Democratic Party — as a “reactionary” outlet.

Supreme Court Chief Justice Jo Hee-de delivers an opening remark during a parliamentary audit by the Legislation and Judiciary Committee at the National Assembly in Yeouido, Seoul, on Oct. 13. [YONHAP]

When Harvard professor Steven Levitsky visited Seoul recently, he invoked “militant democracy” as a safeguard against authoritarianism disguised as legality. But if he had studied Korea’s current state more closely, he might have realized how naive that sounds.

Our elected powers, who dismantle separation of powers and hollow out democratic institutions, are themselves armed with that militant mentality. How can anyone outdo their zeal in the name of “defending democracy?”

Look at the avalanche of ad hoc legislation — the trial suspension law crafted for one man, the media bill designed to oust another and countless “special” laws in between. As Walter Benjamin once observed, “The exception has become the rule.” One must now ask: Do we truly still desire democracy?

This article was originally written in Korean and translated by a bilingual reporter with the help of generative AI tools. It was then edited by a native English-speaking editor. All AI-assisted translations are reviewed and refined by our newsroom.