In Light of COVID-19, South Korea Should Overcome the Taboo of Discussing Mental Health

Ever since the outbreak of COVID-19, South Korea has been at the forefront of administering efforts to contain the virus. Despite recently navigating a third wave of COVID-19, and an emerging risk of a fourth wave, South Korea has not faltered in its strong response. South Korea’s efforts, from a mandatory 14-day quarantine for inbound travelers to real-time notifications of confirmed cases, have minimized the negative effects of COVID-19 for its people. The government has further made a conscious effort to implement data transparency in its monitoring. However, there is certainly room for improvement in one area—COVID-19’s grave impact on mental health.

Even before COVID-19 struck South Korea, the country maintained a reputation for having one of the highest suicide rates and mental health cases in the world. In November, the Washington Post shed light on the increased suicide rate of young women in both South Korea and Japan. Even though there is yet to be a global study conducted on how COVID-19 affects the mental health of people of different age groups, gender, and nationality, experts are concerned that this increased suicide rate is an early sign of COVID-19’s impact on mental health.

What is discouraging is that it is still considered a taboo to talk about mental health openly in South Korea. There certainly have been changes and strides made to improve the views towards mental health from the past, but it is not enough. In South Korea, when one opens up about struggling with a mental illness, it is an invitation to “please ridicule and ostracize me.” Because South Korea’s population strives for cohesiveness and togetherness, and repels differences and otherness, while encouraging competition in many aspects of society, opening up about mental illness and seeking help is hardly the easiest task. The mental health field in South Korea is not tightly incorporated into the national health service system, making it a challenge to seek treatment, and thus feeding into the toxic cycle of stigma against mental health. Recognizing the country’s high suicide rate, the South Korean government created the “Department of Suicide Prevention...with a target to reduce the suicide rate over five years from 26.5 per 100,000 people to 17.” Yet, the budget for the center was only set at 10.5 billion won ($9.7 million).

In the context of COVID-19, I certainly could feel the stark difference in the South Korean government’s approach in caring for physical health and mental health during my mandatory quarantine period, when I returned home from the United States. During the quarantine, I received a phone call every single day asking for any COVID-19 symptoms; I self-reported any symptoms twice a day through a self-quarantine application on my phone; and I was not allowed to leave the quarantine premise unless I was getting tested for COVID-19. However, I only received one text message during the 14 days from my local clinic containing a number to reach out to should I ever need counseling services concerning my mental health during the period of isolation. As a person who has experienced two 14-day quarantines in South Korea since the beginning of COVID-19, I believe that the South Korean government still falls woefully short in providing the same quality of services for mental health as it does for physical health.

In the midst of COVID-19, with employment rates plummeting, job losses continuing into the ninth month, and businesses surviving by the skin of their teeth—or worse, closing down entirely—there is a new term coined to describe this challenging time: “Corona Blue” is a “depression and lethargy due to self-isolation and social distancing.” A recent survey shows that 40% of South Koreans believe their mental health has been impacted due to the government’s strict COVID-19 measures. According to a lawmaker Baek Jongheon in the People’s Power Party, there has been a 44.8% increase in reported cases of anxiety disorder this year compared to last year. He indicated a lingering concern over Corona Blue, arguing that the Ministry of Health and Welfare should code Corona Blue as a disease so that it can be addressed in a strategic fashion.

As the lawmaker pointedly states, the South Korean government’s initiative in taking care of Corona Blue is considerably lagging compared to its drive in tracking down confirmed cases and being transparent to its people and to the world. The government has launched at least one initiative; it distributed a first batch of pet plants kits to 2,000 people undergoing self-quarantine. Yoon Tae Ho, who leads South Korea’s Central Disaster and Safety Countermeasure Headquarters, states that the pet plants are not only for the purpose of “companionship and bonding,” but also “to let people in isolation know that society is cheering them on through the hard times and appreciates their suffering for the sake of the greater community.” On top of distributing pet plants, the South Korean government launched a variety of self-diagnosis applications, ranging from Kakotalk Messenger App Chatbot; Mind More, run by the National Center for Mental Health; and a hotline for counseling services. But, are pet plants and virtual health services enough? With the COVID-19 crisis lasting longer than anyone ever expected, the South Korean government should undertake a stronger initiative to take care of its people’s mental health as much as physical health.

Given the sudden global pandemic barging at the door, South Korea should certainly be applauded for its valiant COVID-19 initiatives. However, it is ironic that South Korea, rising as one of the leaders in this global health setting, still considers talking about mental health as a taboo. It is high time for South Korea to acknowledge the significance of mental health both in non-pandemic and pandemic circumstances, in order to bolster a sustainable and non-stigmatizing system for addressing mental health needs.