“I WAS rebellious,” he said. “I was determined from the beginning to find my own purpose in life.” Peter Underwood, the fourth generation of the Underwood family, struggled to find his purpose until well into his early adulthood. He eventually settled on a career, and currently works as a managing partner at IRC consulting−a seemingly idiosyncratic choice of occupation within a family of educators. Yet his quest to forge his own destiny, the “rebellion,” is a common story among the Underwoods. Strong, independent convictions run in the family. Horace Grant Underwood, Peter Underwood’s great-grandfather, made the choice of coming to Korea after noting that nobody else would. The choice to embark on that potentially fatal, one-way mission to the obscure Hermit Kingdom was an unimaginable choice that only an indomitable and independent spirit as he could have made. His descendants too made their difficult decisions, eschewing a life of comfort in the United States to live a life of service in Korea.

   Peter Underwood, much like his family, had no intention of living somebody else’s vision of life. He came to Korea when he was three months old and grew up on the Yonsei campus, attending Seoul Foreign School. He speaks fondly of his upbringing in Korea, spent occasionally traveling across the country, learning about its history and culture through his father. After graduation, he left briefly to the United States for his undergraduate degree. He followed in the footsteps of his father and became an educator when he came back to Korea. He taught English, briefly at Yonsei and later in Japan. Despite his competence, he found the job underwhelming. Underwood believed that the era of foreign missionaries was by then long gone in Korea, and that the rapidly industrializing nation required “different answers.” His search eventually bore fruit when he discovered his passion for consulting; he would bridge two cultures together, helping foreign businesses enter Korea.

   Reflecting on his lengthy career as a consultant, Underwood wrote a book in 2012, titled First Mover focusing on Korean audiences. He argued passionately for reforms to the business and organizational culture of Korea, and for a reorientation of beliefs and values within the Korean society. Underwood believed that Korea was at the most important crossroads of its 5,000-year history, as the country faced the prospect of either becoming a global leader or following Japan to become a diminished power. Korea has performed well beyond anybody’s expectations as a “fast follower,” catching up to the rest of the world. However, it now had to become a “first mover”−a country of business innovators and disruptors. Changes had to occur not only at a societal level, requiring systemic changes in businesses and government, but also at an individual level. The time to follow others is over; now is the time to seize your destiny as a leader. It is the same philosophy that guided himself and his family, and one that Underwood believed Korea needed.

   However, what the 2012 Underwood wrote of is a far cry from the 2020 we live in. The post-Gangnam style, post-impeachment, and post-COVID Korea demands new solutions. The Yonsei Annals interviewed Peter Underwood in his office at Gwangwhamun to gain perspective into his thoughts about the new challenges facing Korea and how the youths of this country can live meaningful lives in an increasingly complex world.

The Yonsei Annals: You noted in your book First Mover that Korea was at a crossroads to either achieving greatness or going into a painful decline due to our inability to change. Where do you see Korea now eight years later? What kind of improvements have there been since? What are some persisting problems?

Peter A. Underwood: Well I am not sure that we have turned the corner at this point. We are still at the crossroads to some extent. But I think there have been some definite changes. There are notable examples of creativity, and you’ve seen some companies that have become first movers in certain areas. A great example is Hyundai Motors Company’s (HMC) commitment to fuel cells. While most other companies were only looking at conventional, battery-driven EVs, HMC made a huge commitment into fuel cell technology. It was a risky strategy that paid off but could have just as easily went sour if the industry went another direction. There are a lot of new entrepreneurs, a lot of very clever, young people trying to create new businesses. But these are still just examples of a few big companies embracing change. The real test, however, is whether there can be an economy-wide embracing of first-mover status−not just a few exemplary cases.

   Right now, there are three major problems with the economy in Korea. One is the dominance of the chaebol*, two is labor inflexibility, and the third is excessive regulation. When it comes to the first-mover status, the biggest concern is the dominance of the chaebol. When a startup company begins to be successful and gain some traction, they run into competitions with chaebol companies. Now, if the chaebol company buys that startup, that’s actually not an entirely bad outcome. At least there are some incentives to create and develop, and these talents will be made useful. But too often you see cases where the larger company will just copy their models and end up outcompeting these startups. There are many ways this can happen. Sometimes they poach the key brains behind the startup, and with it their proprietary technology. Or they just take the idea itself and develop it themselves. The problem is society-wide. I don’t think our society has done enough to encourage and protect the visions of young entrepreneurs.

   Speaking of systemic and regulatory issues, we also have problems with the law. In Korea, if a company faces bankruptcy, the CEOs are held personally liable and could go to jail. If you have to face the prospect of actual jail time because you are too ambitious, this of course stymies the innovative and entrepreneurial spirit within the society. Excessive regulation is especially notable in the finance sector. One of the goals of the Korean government is to become the financial hub of Asia, so it does not help that people can only do what the government says they can do. Basically, the banking sector is so rigidly controlled in Korea that you don’t have the opportunity to create the talent pool necessary to step into a global stage where the rules are totally different. We have fintech companies, but almost all of them thrive overseas and not in Korea. So that’s just one example of how the government has got too much stranglehold on the industry.

   They also discourage innovations within companies. A friend working for a large Korean company told me. “The key to success in a big Korean company is the skill of not being noticed.” I almost fell over when he said that; how could this be? He told me that the reward for success was minor, but the punishment for failure was huge in Korean companies. As a result, we breed generations of workforce playing things safely, not challenging or creating new values. They can’t help but do this because they have to look out for themselves. So not only do we have these systemic forces working in the broader economy where entrepreneurs are being discouraged, but also even within these organizations as risk-takers are rarely rewarded. So our society needs to change. We need to recognize and give proper credit to those who succeed while at the same time being more tolerant of failure.

   As a whole, are we changing? Well, I am an optimist, so I think we are; we have somewhat reoriented ourselves. I see examples of some of us taking a first-mover role. But nothing is conclusive. Korea is still very much at the crossroads.

Annals: You mention some changes occurring within companies. What do you think could be behind these changes?

Underwood: Well, if you look at big companies, I think the upper management of many companies has seen changes over the past few years. For instance, there has been a generational change. Look at Samsung right now, Lee Kun-hee just passed away. His son, Lee Jae-young has been running the show for some time. Chung Mong-koo of Hyundai has passed the reins over to his son, who has Western education and more Western ideas. I suspect that at least for these chaebols, some of the changes are due to the generational switch in management.

   But also, we see increased diversity too in the ranks of upper management. We see more female leadership. The next step would be non-Korean leadership. We have a fair number who are semi-foreign, that is those with two cultural backgrounds, like Koreans who studied abroad. We have some foreigners, but right now they tend to be in positions related to technical capacity and very few in general management positions. The head designer from Volkswagen working in Hyundai right now is one great successful example of this case. We certainly could use more competent foreigners in Korean companies, but it’s definitely getting better right now.

   We also see attempts to try to reduce the steep hierarchy at work. I mean it’s still there, but it’s receding. These are not earth-shattering or game-changing developments, but they seem to be signals of changes in Korean companies.

Annals: What do you think are some fundamental changes that Korea has yet to go through?

Underwood: The day we know we have achieved some real change in this country is the day when we no longer have hak-wons**. It’s not the means to achieve something, but it would be evidence of change. The idea is not to ban all hak-wons in Korea. The government has unsuccessfully tried to do this several times. But when these students are no longer sent to hak-wons to study for their tests to get into a good university, you will know that the education system has changed. It would be a good litmus test to see how far we have come.

   We really need to take a second look at how we teach and evaluate students. Are we looking at and measuring the right things in these young men and women? Are we rewarding them in the right way? I am on the board of Seoul Foreign School (SFS). And with COVID, they have shifted a lot of their education online. While talking with the administration, I learned that they observed how the ranking−the low performers, the mediocre, and the good performers−differed between online and offline classes. A significant number of people who performed poorly in the classroom now performed well and vice versa. This shows that our measurements for grades and tests are surely biased. People with certain skill sets are rewarded, while we ignore those with other capabilities to offer. I had friends who didn’t take tests very well and they were probably smarter than I was. They sometimes didn’t do as well because they couldn’t deal well with stress or pressure. And now, with schools trying out both online and offline classes, we are seeing how a simple change in metrics can show a remarkable difference in how we measure performance.

   One of my biggest regrets is that my job doesn’t give me enough opportunities to interact with college students too often. Young people have such different ways of looking at the world and I would love to learn from that. There’s an educator from the UK named Ken Robinson. He talks about how when you give a paper clip to a bunch of five-year-olds they come up with a hundred different ways to use them. If you give them to fifteen-year-olds, they will give you barely twenty. Our education system stifles creativity rather than encouraging it. Children all have this capability to think so creatively and broadly, but we squash all of this out and squeeze them into a tight mold of conformity as expected by society. It’s unfortunate because we are born with so much innate creativity.

   We are also not just talking about formal education here. Changes must occur within the household too. I speak of the kind of values we inculcate and raise children with. Mothers don’t want their children to work for a startup or create their own thing. They want their kids to have a stable life, to work in a big chaebol company or in the public sector. They do not want their sons or daughters to work for unstable startups that are prone to failure. But a few years ago, in Gwangwhamun, I saw a “Fail Festival.” Where they were actually celebrating failed startups. I was really impressed and encouraged by that. It represented the emergence of a new mindset where we appreciate and accept failure as a necessary step for innovation.

   I mean history is just full of people who failed. Henry Ford of the Ford Motor Company, for instance, failed a lot before his big break in the automobile industry. Bill Gates. Richard Branson. They have all failed. There needs to be acceptance and some level of trust in this process. Of course, we make mistakes. But sometimes, these failures aren’t even attributed to flaws in their ideas. Sometimes it can just be that the timing wasn’t right. So we need to have an environment that is more accepting of these countless trials.

Annals: Speaking of education, as one of the board members of Yonsei and the great-grandson of the university’s founder, what do you believe is the spirit of Yonsei?

Underwood: In my opinion, the ‘founding spirit’ of Yonsei is to act by the love of God, in a Christian manner. The motto of our university, John 8:32, is “you shall know the truth and the truth shall set you free.” The truth in this context is the accepting of Christ as one’s personal savior−not just academic knowledge. The university should present Christianity as a faith, value system, and a way of life that is worth embracing. However, we need to let students find his or her own way to God’s love. For this reason, I do not believe that we should make Chapel mandatory, but instead should try to elicit their voluntary participation. Make them want to come to chapel.

Annals: How did you figure out what to do with your life? Reflecting on your own past, what advice would you offer to youth in Korea?

Underwood: I didn’t have an epiphany moment as some might. I did kind of understand where I wanted to fit. I knew I had knowledge of both Western and Korean cultures, and I thought I could help people on both sides conduct business. I actually had a rough idea of what I wanted to do before I even knew it was called consulting.

   But really, I didn’t have a life’s ambition for a long time. I was in my late twenties before I actually got there. Being a consultant is a very satisfying job for me. It’s not every day, of course. Every job has its problems and obstacles. There is drudgery. But overall, I am very satisfied with what I am doing. I am using my skills and I am creating jobs. I wouldn’t say that there was some sudden realization, but a gradual one where I realized I could achieve something.

   My advice is that, first, you have to want to do what you are doing. I mentioned earlier that this is hard for people who live in a tightly regulated society like Korea. As for me, I was rebellious since I was a high school student. I rejected some of my parent’s ideas. I grew my hair long and broke conventions. My uncles, my brothers all went to a college in New York. When it was time for me to go to college, I went to Oregon. I looked at the map and found a place as far away as it could be. When I graduated from university, my wife and I were receiving a small amount of money from both my father and my father-in-law. I told both to stop. In retrospect, I think it would have been smart to accept that. I could have definitely made use of it. It was difficult at times. But back then I did not want any of that. I wanted to be responsible for my own life.

   One of the saddest things I see in this country is the low-level of happiness. I observe that this is partly because we are told how we should live our lives. You go to hak-won, you pass the test, you go to university, get married, and have one and a half kids. This progression in life does not necessarily make you happy. It’s one man’s idea of what life should be, but not necessarily your own. In this society, the most important thing is to have your own dream. And this is not easy. Upbringing in Korea can be highly regimented. You are told how to do everything at each step of the way. It is so hard to find yourself when you have to comply with all the demands of society. You need to ask yourself. “What do you want to do? Where do you want to go? How do you want to live your life?” Real happiness comes from asking these questions. True satisfaction in life comes from discovering and following your own purpose. Have ambition and find meaning in achieving success in your own dream. It’s also okay to change your dream too. Finding your dream also comes only through trial and error. Go ahead, have a dream!

Annals: How would you want the legacy of your family to be remembered? What could the Yonsei students learn from the stories of you and your family?

Underwood: It is not for the family to define the legacy. One does not set out on life saying: “This is how I want to be remembered.” My great grandfather was motivated by what he saw as a need and believed that it was his calling to fill that need. He was a bold visionary. This is a very ‘Korean’ trait today. Many Koreans are bold and pursue seemingly impossible goals. And you know, most Koreans are overachievers who will go beyond their goals! I believe that our family members are motivated by this sense of calling, to meet a particular need, and behave in a morally and ethically responsible manner in the pursuit of that goal. Your ‘legacy’ is something that follows depending on your life. But you should not begin by asking how you want to be remembered, but by asking what the world needs, and what you can do to help. Sometimes the society or posterity notices and remembers you. Sometimes no-one notices. But they do not matter as much if you can live with the satisfaction of knowing that you have done your bit to contribute towards making a better world. John Lennon once said, “life is what happens to you when you are busy making other plans.” So make sure you live and contribute to society−your legacy will follow.

*chaebol: family-owned conglomerates in Korea

**hak-won: private academic institutions, sometimes referred to as cram school