Recently, after covering a higher education policy forum, I found myself at a gathering with several local youth entrepreneurs and soon-to-be graduates. As we discussed pressing issues in higher education, such as 'Anchor' and 'Glocal University,' one student abruptly interrupted with a serious expression. “Honestly, when we see the term 'local settlement' on government banners or reports, it feels suffocating. It’s like being told we must never leave this place, even though we haven’t done anything wrong. It feels like being shackled.”
In that moment, I felt stunned. The core policy goal, which the Ministry of Education, local governments, and universities have been promoting with billions of taxpayer won, was perceived by the very youth it aimed to benefit as a chilling 'language of confinement.' This highlighted a significant cognitive gap between the administrative jargon used by policymakers and the lived experiences of young people.
Looking back, the term 'settlement' is fundamentally a patronizing and administrative-centric term. Contrary to its dictionary definition of establishing a permanent residence, for young people in their twenties who are navigating a period of exploration and transition, 'settlement' translates to 'stagnation'—a curtailment of their growth potential. From an educational perspective, youth is a developmental stage where individuals expand their identities, interact with the world, and blossom through a psychosocial moratorium. Spatial and cultural mobility is essential for growth during this period. However, our society's higher education policies do not view youth as active learners and agents of growth but rather as 'tools for population maintenance' to defend local demographic statistics.
When combined with South Korea's unique capital-centric ideology and hierarchical educational structure, this leads to a psychological 'stigma effect.' For decades, society has drilled into young people that “to succeed, you must go to Seoul,” making the choice to remain in the regions often seen as a 'forced stay' for those who have failed to compete in the capital region. For youth, whose desire for social recognition is at its peak, the directive to “settle in the region after graduating from a local university” is akin to coercing them to accept a defeatist label under the guise of regional loyalty.
From a labor economics perspective, the reality is even more disheartening. The reasons young people pack their bags for Seoul are not merely superficial. They stem from the absolute wage gap between the capital and the regions, the severe lack of 'decent jobs' that allow for career advancement, and the disconnection of cultural, medical, and housing infrastructure. Offering a few million won in settlement support or short-term rent subsidies while ignoring the dual structure and qualitative mismatch in the labor market is a typical administrative convenience that shifts the burden of structural contradictions onto the youth.
We must change the way we address young people. Instead of forcing them into a restrictive 'settlement' framework, we need to recognize the concept of 'local rooting' and 'active settlement,' where youth can cultivate their own lives and grow. Furthermore, we should break away from the outdated notion that one must stay in one place for life and actively embrace the potential of 'relationship populations' and 'living populations' that traverse between the capital and the regions, injecting vitality into the higher education ecosystem.
Of course, merely changing the language will not persuade youth to stay. The essential solution lies in creating an 'attraction of choice' that makes even those who have left want to return, rather than erecting high fences to keep them from leaving. This requires arduous structural reforms to establish quality anchor companies and advanced research and development clusters that local youth can bet on for their futures, as well as building life infrastructure that rivals that of the capital region.
Humans are not born to stay in one place; they are beings that breathe to grow and move forward. While 'local settlement' is often framed as a discourse on balanced development between the capital and non-capital regions, it is, in reality, a narrow 'confinement administration' that traps youth within the administrative boundaries of each local government. Dreaming of a future for the region while shackling youth with the heavy sandbag of 'settlement' is futile. What the government and universities should provide to young people is not the shackles of confinement but a solid foundation that allows them to leap into a broader world from a secure local base.
* This article has been translated by AI.
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