Episode 4: Mandatory Military Service and Its Social Meaning — Korea’s Changing Reality and Debates
The Draft and the Challenge of a Shrinking Population
For decades, mandatory military service has been a central part of South Korea’s identity, not just a legal obligation. Since the Korean War, the draft has been seen as an essential safeguard in a nation that remains divided and technically still at war. Every healthy young man has been expected to serve, and this system has shaped the way Koreans think about citizenship and responsibility.
But in recent years, Korea has faced an undeniable reality: the pool of eligible draftees is shrinking. A record-low birthrate has sharply reduced the number of young men available for service. Between 2019 and 2025, the population of men in their 20s fell by nearly 30 percent. The military has already downsized by about 20 percent in just six years, and defense officials warn of a shortage of more than 50,000 soldiers. This is not just a matter of numbers—it directly affects readiness and national security.
As the 2025 presidential election approaches, the draft is once again a hot political issue. Some candidates propose shortening service terms or introducing selective conscription, while others go further, calling for a transition to an all-volunteer military. Yet experts caution that sudden changes could leave the nation vulnerable. The future of Korea’s conscription system will depend on striking a delicate balance between short-term manpower needs and long-term demographic realities.
Military Service as a Shared Social Experience
In Korea, serving in the military is not only about national defense—it has also been a shared rite of passage for generations of men. Most young men serve for 18 to 21 months, often interrupting university studies or delaying career plans. These years in uniform shape personal identity and create a collective cultural memory.
Conversations between Korean men often include the question, “Which unit did you serve in?” Military stories quickly become a way to bond, even among strangers. The habits and lessons from this time—discipline, hierarchy, camaraderie—carry over into civilian life. In workplaces, echoes of military culture can be felt in organizational structure and attitudes toward teamwork and authority.
Of course, this shared experience has both positive and negative effects. While it builds solidarity, it can also reinforce rigid hierarchies and authoritarian habits. These concerns have fueled calls for reform, including stronger protections for soldiers’ rights and better working conditions inside the barracks.
The symbolic weight of service is perhaps best illustrated by global superstars BTS. Each member fulfilled his military duty, with RM and V completing service in June 2025. Their enlistment and discharge became worldwide news, reminding fans everywhere that in Korea, even national icons are not exempt. For many Koreans, BTS’s service underscored the principle that military duty is a universal obligation, not a privilege to be avoided.
Debates on Fairness and Equality in Conscription
Few topics in Korea ignite as much debate as the fairness of the draft. In theory, all healthy young men must serve. In practice, exemptions and special cases have sparked controversy for decades. Scandals involving politicians, entertainers, or athletes accused of evading service regularly dominate headlines and provoke public outrage. For many, draft-dodging is not just a personal failing but a betrayal of social trust.
Another recurring debate is whether women should be included in mandatory service. Advocates argue that gender equality demands it, especially in a country where women now outnumber men in higher education and professional fields. Opponents counter that with a shrinking population, women’s contributions may be more valuable in the civilian workforce. For now, the idea remains divisive, but it highlights how the draft intersects with broader questions about equality and social roles.
The draft has also been reshaped by the issue of conscientious objection. For years, men who refused service on religious or ethical grounds were imprisoned. In 2018, however, Korea’s Constitutional Court recognized the right to alternative service. Today, conscientious objectors serve in community or correctional facilities instead of the military. While this shift marked progress, critics argue that alternative service remains too punitive, showing how Korea still struggles to balance individual rights with collective security.
Inside the Military: Culture, Hazing, and Human Rights
Debates about conscription cannot be separated from the culture inside the armed forces. The Korean military has long been criticized for hazing, bullying, and abuse. Some tragic cases of suicide and violence have drawn national attention, highlighting the risks of a closed, hierarchical system.
In response, reforms have accelerated. The government has strengthened oversight, introduced stricter anti-hazing measures, and raised soldiers’ pay. Living conditions in barracks have improved, and more attention is being paid to the mental health of conscripts. These efforts reflect a broader societal shift: military service should not mean a suspension of basic human rights.
Inclusivity is also evolving. In the past, many with disabilities were simply exempted. Now, under the alternative service system, those with different physical or psychological conditions—including autism—can fulfill their obligations in non-combat roles. These changes show how the draft is adapting, however slowly, to a society that values diversity and rights more than in the past.
Looking Ahead: The Future of Conscription
What lies ahead for Korea’s draft? Most observers agree that the current model cannot last forever. With each year, the manpower pool shrinks further. Policymakers are exploring ways to adapt, from shortening terms to creating a professional corps of long-term soldiers. Some envision a gradual move toward a volunteer military, though such a transition would require enormous financial resources and a national consensus.
Beyond logistics, the meaning of conscription is changing. For older generations, it symbolized sacrifice for the nation. For today’s youth, it raises questions about fairness, identity, and opportunity. Serving in the military disrupts careers and education, and young people increasingly weigh it against personal ambitions and rights. This tension reflects a larger shift in how Koreans see the relationship between the individual and the state.
Ultimately, the draft is more than a military tool. It is a mirror of Korean society—its values, its divisions, and its evolving sense of justice. Whether the system moves toward reform, reduction, or eventual abolition, the debate over military service will continue to shape not only Korea’s defense but also its democracy and civic identity.
Conclusion
Mandatory military service in Korea is not simply about defense. It is a crossroads where national security, social fairness, cultural identity, and human rights all converge. As the population declines and society changes, the draft faces pressures that will almost certainly transform it in the years to come.
For anyone seeking to understand Korea, examining military service is essential. It reveals how deeply security concerns are woven into everyday life, how fairness debates shape national trust, and how a society constantly negotiates between tradition and change. In many ways, the future of the draft is also the future of Korean society itself.