Chun In-sung 
 
The author is social policy editor at the JoongAng Ilbo.
 
 
Watching the live broadcast of the education minister nominee’s confirmation hearing on July 16 brought back memories of the winter of 2006, when I was covering Korea University. That December, Lee Pil-sang became the university president. He was widely respected as a first-generation civic activist and scholar, and his appointment drew attention because the prestigious private university, often described as a national academic symbol, had selected a president who was a graduate of another school — Seoul National University.
 
Yet just five days after his inauguration, the situation flipped. Allegations emerged that five to eight academic papers he had co-authored as a professor contained plagiarized content. A series of internal investigations and confidence votes by the faculty council ensued, and Lee ultimately resigned only 58 days into his term.
 

Lee Jin-sook, nominee for deputy prime minister for social affairs and education minister, bows in apology during a parliamentary confirmation hearing at the National Assembly’s Education Committee in Yeouido, western Seoul, on July 16 over allegations of thesis plagiarism and early overseas schooling of her child. The government withdrew her nomination on July 20. [YONHAP]

Lee Jin-sook, nominee for deputy prime minister for social affairs and education minister, bows in apology during a parliamentary confirmation hearing at the National Assembly’s Education Committee in Yeouido, western Seoul, on July 16 over allegations of thesis plagiarism and early overseas schooling of her child. The government withdrew her nomination on July 20. [YONHAP]

 
The plagiarism scandal surrounding Lee Jin-sook, former president of Chungnam National University and Korea’s first female head of a regional national university, feels like a direct déjà vu of that episode 18 years ago. In both cases, the individuals were accused of co-authoring papers that closely mirrored their students’ theses. Even typographic errors were copied over. When the controversy escalated, students issued public appeals defending their professors and appeared at press conferences — in almost identical scenes.
 
The defenses were also similar. Lee Jin-sook cited the “unique nature of science and engineering,” arguing that her role as first author was natural because her contribution exceeded that of her students. Lee Pil-sang had similarly claimed that he had provided topics, directions and data to his students and felt wronged. Both cases ended in the same way — after a prolonged public debate, no clear judgment or resolution emerged, and the figures in question eventually stepped down.
 
Recalling these two cases is not about naming and shaming, but to reflect on Korea’s unresolved research ethics problem that has been recurring for nearly two decades. After the 2005 Hwang Woo-suk stem cell fraud scandal shocked the nation, calls grew to strengthen research integrity standards that were still underdeveloped in Korean academia. By 2006, plagiarism and research misconduct had become central tests in public vetting processes, contributing to the resignation of then-Education Minister Kim Byung-joon.
 
The government rushed to create guidelines, and universities and research institutions were instructed to establish and enforce research ethics rules. On paper, Korea now appears to have systems comparable to any advanced academic nation. According to the National Research Foundation of Korea, 176 of the country’s 180 four-year universities — 97.8 percent — had formal research ethics regulations as of 2023. Over 90 percent of universities provide research ethics education and employ plagiarism-prevention programs such as Copy Killer.
 
 
In practice, however, there are doubts about whether universities’ internal mechanisms for verifying research misconduct are truly functioning. Each university operates a “research integrity committee,” which receives reports, investigates the reports and determines whether misconduct occurred. Fifteen years after these systems were introduced, they often appear more ceremonial than substantive, with critics citing a lack of professionalism and transparency.
 
Many committee members are senior faculty or administrators, making them susceptible to pressure from university leadership or internal politics. This dynamic contributed to the protracted handling of allegations against former first lady Kim Keon Hee, whose thesis plagiarism case became a political flashpoint during the 2021 presidential race. Sookmyung Women’s University began its review in February 2022 but only issued its findings early this year. The conclusion came after a new president — who had campaigned on clarifying the matter — took office and reshuffled the integrity committee.
 
Both Ministry of Education rules and university regulations require that investigations and notifications be completed within six months. Yet the university failed to meet this deadline and did not offer a clear explanation.
 
Excessive secrecy is another recurring issue. In August 2022, Kookmin University’s research ethics committee reviewed four of Kim Keon Hee’s papers, including the so-called “Yuji Thesis,” and announced a “no misconduct” decision. The “Yuji Thesis,” which drew public ridicule, referred to a paper for which the Korean title included the word yuji, meaning “maintenance” or “preservation.” Instead of translating it into an appropriate English term, the author transliterated the word directly as “Yuji” in the title, a decision that became symbolic of the work’s questionable academic quality and fueled the plagiarism controversy. But the disclosure amounted to just two and a half pages of text, prompting criticism of a “black-box verdict.” Most universities are even less transparent. When cases end in “no plagiarism” findings, institutions often release only the conclusion and not the detailed reasoning. The identities of committee members remain undisclosed during and after investigations, leaving whistle-blowers unsure of who made the decision or on what grounds.
 
This structural distrust undermined Lee Jin-sook’s defense that her papers had passed her university’s internal review before she became a candidate for university president. For the public, the process itself lacks credibility.
 

Former first lady Kim Keon Hee, then the spouse of the president-elect, bows after delivering her apology regarding suspicion about her academic records on March 2022. [JOINT PRESS CORPS]

Former first lady Kim Keon Hee, then the spouse of the president-elect, bows after delivering her apology regarding suspicion about her academic records on March 2022. [JOINT PRESS CORPS]

 
Research ethics is the foundation of trust in the academic community. When misconduct such as plagiarism is tolerated, creative scholarship is stifled, young researchers lose motivation and the nation’s research competitiveness erodes. The poor record of high-profile resignations — whether of cabinet nominees or university presidents — will continue unless the system is fixed.
 
It is time for universities and the government to work together to enhance the fairness and transparency of research integrity mechanisms. Strengthening investigation procedures, improving disclosure standards and insulating committees from internal influence are essential steps. Only then can Korea break free from its cycle of disillusionment and prevent the next déjà vu from playing out on the national stage.

Translated from the JoongAng Ilbo using generative AI and edited by Korea JoongAng Daily staff.