The South Korean government¡¯s ambition to create 10 universities on par with Seoul National University, announced earlier this month, presents a compelling vision. Decentralisation, regional revitalisation, global competitiveness ¨C these are all worthy goals. But between the speech and the reality falls the dark shadow of implementation.

In reality, the initiative is neither revolutionary nor genuinely feasible within a Korean society that, for generations, has seen a degree from the Seoul-based SKY universities ¨C Seoul National, Korea or Yonsei ¨C as the pinnacle of social status and prestige. Families go to extraordinary lengths, even incurring significant debt, to secure a spot in these institutions ¨C often via the Seoul-based hagwon (cram-school) system.

This for-profit education market is a beast that no policy can tame. Parents start their children in hagwons before they can tie their shoes. There are hagwons for getting into other hagwons, as well as prep courses for kindergarteners aiming for medical school.

Some parents also plan for their children to study abroad ¨C most typically in the US or UK ¨C from a very young age, enrolling them in elite, costly private and international schools. This has become very common despite the fact that the average monthly tuition for premier English-language kindergartens and international schools in Korea can be roughly double, or even triple, the average tuition at private universities, sometimes exceeding 1.7 million won (?900) per month, compared with just over 610,000 won per month for four-year private college tuition. The result is a persistent brain drain, with the country¡¯s brightest and most affluent students increasingly seeking a higher education abroad ¨C and then staying there either out of lifestyle preference or for higher salaries.

ÍøÆØÃÅ

Nor has the GLOCAL30 initiative served to lessen the grip of Seoul on Korean students¡¯ and parents¡¯ imaginations. Launched under the previous president to intense fanfare in 2023, the excellence initiative¡¯s aim was to boost universities outside Seoul and drive innovation. In practice, however, it has only fostered heightened competition among universities, inadvertently deepening regional divides.

Can further targeted investment shift the Seoul-headed hierarchy??In theory, yes. Money can build labs, attract star faculty and create scholarships generous enough to lure some bright students away from Seoul. But prestige is a stubborn creature. It clings to old names, to the glitter of the capital, to the unspoken promise that a Seoul diploma opens doors that remain closed to regional ones. I¡¯ve seen students ¨C and their parents ¨C choose Sogang University, a middle-ranking Seoul university, over a full scholarship at a top-tier regional school. The calculus is simple: success in life is not just about education, but about networks, reputation and that elusive thing called ¡°face¡±.

ÍøÆØÃÅ

I¡¯ve also watched regional universities transform. With sustained investment, some have developed niche strengths, including excellent engineering programmes, cutting-edge AI research and partnerships with local industries. These pockets of excellence are real, and they¡¯re growing. However, for every success, two or three institutions struggle to fill their classrooms as they grapple with the realities of the world¡¯s lowest birthrate. Even with new funding, some will not survive, and competition will only ramp up further as universities scrap over the remaining 10 spots in the GLOCAL programme.

This approach feels haphazard and lacks any real vision. Rather than spreading resources thinly across dozens of contenders, the Ministry of Education would do better to concentrate resources and build focus on two or three true educational hubs in key regions or schools. The rest should be freed up to find new roles ¨C perhaps as centres for vocational training, or as partners in local development. Consolidation is painful, but inevitable.

Autonomy and mission differentiation are the keys to survival. Currently, the government¡¯s heavy hand influences everything from admissions to curricula. If we want innovation, we need to let universities breathe ¨C to set their own goals, to specialise. For instance, cookie-cutter standards for faculty hiring ¨C exemplified by unrealistic requirements for publications ¨C are inflexible and inappropriate for many institutions. Not every school needs to chase the same dream of ¡°world-class research¡±. Some should focus on teaching, others on serving their communities, while still others should focus on training the next generation of skilled workers. And they should be allowed to hire accordingly.

Empowering universities to tailor their strategies to their specific visions, then, will allow them to adapt more effectively to both academic and financial realities. But here, too, there¡¯s resistance. The old model ¨C the idea that every university must aspire to be a mini-SNU ¨C dies hard, both within universities and wider society.

ÍøÆØÃÅ

Ultimately, all roads in Korea seem to lead back to Seoul. The city is more than a place; it¡¯s a state of mind. And until that changes, until a degree from Gwangju or Daegu carries the same weight as one from SNU, the hierarchy will endure ¨C no matter how much we invest in the regions.

is a professor of history at?Yonsei University.