Four of Korea's sharpest observers on Hallyu — from industry, academia, criticism and policy — offer different verdicts on where it goes from here A scene from "What is Love," a TV drama that aired in Korea from 1991 to 1992 and was introduced in China in 1997 (MBC) The Korean Wave, or Hallyu, is usually dated to 1997, when Chinese state broadcaster CCTV aired the Korean drama "What is Love" (1991-92), an unlikely hit that is often credited as the phenomenon's starting point. Almost three decades later, the industry that emerged from it has become one of Korea’s most closely watched exports, with dramas, K-pop, webtoons and games driving revenue growth and global success, and spilling over into related industries such as tourism, beauty, food and fashion. The government is betting on that growth, too. Hallyu generated $19 billion in exports last year, according to a report by the Korea Foundation for International Cultural Exchange and the Ministry of Culture, Sports and Tourism. In interviews with The Korea Herald this week, four of its sharpest observers talked about what keeps it going, and what could bring it to an end. Ahn Ho-sang, president of Seoul's Sejong Center for the Performing Arts, traces the Hallyu's durability to the music underneath it — a foundation, he argues, that the rest of the industry has been built on top of, and one he believes is nowhere near giving way. Hong Seok-kyeong, who heads the Center for Hallyu Studies at Seoul National University, is more wary, pointing to structural issues like Korea's shrinking population and a production system under growing strain. Jung Kil-hwa, dean of the Hallyu Convergence Academy at Dongguk University and a former MBC producer, is the most bullish of all: He says Hallyu's best days have not arrived yet. 온라인 바다이야기 릴게임 Culture critic Jung Duk-hyun says the bigger risk is not decline at all, but Korea's failure to recognize that Hallyu no longer belongs to Korea alone. A foundation built on music and volume Ahn Ho-sang, CEO of Sejong Center for the Performing Arts (SCPA) Ahn has spent 42 years in the performing arts, long enough to watch several supposed peaks come and go, and he says the surest sign Hallyu still has room to run is the performers themselves. New talent keeps arriving, generation after generation, with no sign of the pipeline running dry. His evidence for the deeper foundation underneath that talent is simple: Music sets people's taste at a young age, and that taste rarely changes. "The strongest element at the base of the Hallyu right now is music," he said. K-pop's fan base skews young in every market it reaches, he said, and the music people absorb as teenagers tends to define what they listen to for life — which is why, by his account, musicals, film and dramas were able to pile on top of it. Ahn pointed to the uniqueness of Korean stories — personal, autobiographical and emotionally specific in a way big global franchises are not built to be. This functions, in his framing, as an alternative to mainstream culture, not a competitor to it. Helen J Shen (left) and Darren Criss perform in the musical "Maybe Happy Ending." (Matthew Murphy and Evan Zimmerman) Ahn sees that this musical foundation, together with the uniqueness of Korean stories, is the force behind the momentum he expects will hold for another 10 to 20 years. But sustaining it, he believes, requires something else: prolific output. Musical theater is his prime example. Korea's output is likely the highest in the world relative to its size, Ahn said. 무료충전바다이야기 The Korea Musical Theatre Association counted about 70 original productions in 2025 alone, most of them homegrown works rather than licensed adaptations. Low production costs make that kind of volume possible. Theater rentals and budgets run lower here than even in China, he said, creating a low-risk environment where creators can afford to experiment and churn out new work. The threat within Hong Seok-kyeong, professor and director of the Center for Hallyu Studies at Seoul National University (Hong Seok-kyeong) Hong's research points to the same dynamic from a different angle: Korea has sustained an unusually high volume of content production since the 1990s, and it's that volume, not any single hit, that actually built Hallyu, she argues. Her worry is different in kind, not degree, though. The crises Hallyu has weathered before, she argues, were external shocks — like the abrupt loss of the Chinese market after Seoul deployed the US THAAD missile system in 2016. The threat she sees building now is internal. Rising production costs are driving down the number of dramas being made, widening the gap between blockbusters and everything else, and shrinking the industry's job base. On top of that, Korea's youth population — the very demographic the industry depends on to keep producing new talent — is shrinking. K-pop faces a version of the same demographic squeeze, she said. Fewer young people means fewer trainees entering the pipeline, and fewer odds that the next breakout act emerges from it. She warns that oversaturation and over-commercialization are fueling fatigue and backlash in key overseas markets. "As Hallyu's influence grows, Korea has to take responsibility for it," she said. "Where the influence is that large, people are already talking about Hallyu imperialism. 바다이야기시즌3 Treating it only as a market, prioritizing making money from Hallyu above all else is dangerous." BTS performs in front of Gwanghwamun on March 21. (Big Hit Entertainment) Her alternative isn't just avoiding harm, it's a different role for Korea altogether. "I think Korea should become a kind of cultural platform," she said, "where talented young people in developing countries can make films or become musicians through the collaboration with Hallyu creative industry, rather than simply exporting Korean content outward." Hong's fix is not more government subsidies. It is a market-backed "Hallyu fund" supported by the tourism, beauty, food and fashion companies that have profited from the industry's spillover, and are patient enough to keep underwriting the sheer volume of productions — countless K-dramas, idol debuts and film scripts that never become hits — that give rise to the ones that do. Her list of vulnerabilities extends past economics. Korea's long-stalled antidiscrimination law, she argues, is a liability for Hallyu. "K-pop's global image is built on multiculturalism," she said. "If we keep discriminating at home, eventually people will conclude it was all hypocrisy." The bullish case for Hallyu Jung Kil-hwa, Dean of the Hallyu Convergence Academy at Dongguk University (Jung Kil-hwa) Jung Kil-hwa's own institute backs that up with research of a different kind. In June, Dongguk University's Hallyu Convergence Academy, which he directs, published the second volume in a series of essays by Hallyu researchers from Vietnam, Mongolia, Turkey, Thailand and Japan — writing not as outside observers, but from inside the countries receiving Korean content. The researchers found the same split he describes: For some audiences, Korean content fills what one contributor called a "psychological void" that local culture doesn't reach; for others, it stirs nostalgia. 황금성오리지널 But the volume doesn't shy away from friction, either. The contributors warned of fatigue toward one-way cultural flow without respect for diversity. Clockwise from left, "Kpop Demon Hunters," Blackpink, "Squid Game," BTS (Netflix, YG Entertainment, Big Hit Music) Despite his own institute's caution, Jung's outlook remains unshaken. A former MBC producer and former head of the Korean Foundation for International Cultural Exchange, he watched executives dismiss "What is Love" and then "Dae Jang Geum" as passing fads — until "Winter Sonata" broke through, followed by "Descendants of the Sun" and "My Love from the Star." Each time skeptics called it a peak, something bigger followed: "Gangnam Style," "Parasite," "Squid Game," Blackpink and BTS. "I don't believe Hallyu's golden age has come yet," he said, adding that Hallyu content still gives many audiences outside Korea a sense of novelty, liberation and accomplishment. That confidence comes with a condition, though. Content has to keep reinventing itself creatively, he said, and continue to appeal to audiences with something new. Government agencies need to keep funding the infrastructure behind it — tax incentives, digital effects systems, production facilities — without dictating what gets made. "Support, but don't interfere," he said, describing the arm's-length principle he wants agencies such as KOFICE, which he once led, to follow. Beyond the Hallyu frame Pop culture critic Jung Duk-hyun (Jung Duk-hyun) For culture critic Jung Duk-hyun, the biggest risk facing Hallyu is not decline, but Korea's habit of viewing it through a narrow, nationalistic lens. "We need to move past the very frame of 'Hallyu,' a word that implies a one-way flow from here to there," Jung said. "We live in an era where distinct local cultures around the world are claiming their own spotlight. 모바일 온라인야마토 Korea’s content is simply one of those valuable local cultures." BTS’ decision to bypass submission to the Grammy Awards, he noted, is symbolic not just of one group's clout, but of a broader shift in cultural gravity: Western mainstream dominance is fading, and diverse local cultures now possess the confidence to stand on their own terms. In Jung’s view, measuring success through "national prestige" or aiming to "dominate the global top spot" misunderstands how modern fandoms work. Continued success relies on building sustainable, two-way relationships with global fans rather than treating them merely as targets for commercial monetization or state-led publicity. "When the state steps into the foreground of cultural promotion, it rarely yields positive results," he warned, noting critical skepticism toward government-led mega-events. To navigate this transitional phase, Jung emphasizes that domestic creators and industries must cultivate a higher degree of "global sensitivity." Content rooted in local specifics can inadvertently alienate or offend international audiences if creators remain trapped in outdated domestic broadcasting norms or insular perspectives. He also points to structural imbalances at home. While global OTT platforms like Netflix provided a crucial lifeline to creators, Korea’s industry accepted platform-friendly, IP-surrendering contracts during leaner times. As the industry matures, he argues, Korea must negotiate fairer terms and update its legacy production systems to match global standards. "Korea's artists and production teams have enough capacity," the critic said. "What matters is whether we can build the structure and system for that capacity to actually perform — industrial support, financial support. If that's in place, I think it will go well." Fans pose for a photo at BTS' "Arirang" world tour concert at MetLife Stadium in East Rutherford, New Jersey, on Aug. 1. (Yonhap) eba&wr_id=