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So which East Asian country (Japan, China, South Korea) actually has it the worst with these said NEETs/socially withdrawn/Lying Flatters?
Country grapples with rise in socially withdrawn youth
A decade is enough time for major changes in a society. Media trends can come and go, and social trends can turn from a rumor to an inescapable reality.
Take the period between 2015 and 2024: during this time, Korea saw three presidential transitions, while moviegoers saw Star Wars go from a pop-culture treasure to a cautionary tale in just five films. But for Ahn, 33, who asked to be identified only by her surname, almost nothing changed.
“I barely went outside for nearly a decade,” Ahn told The Korea Times. “I could go places close to home, but couldn’t travel any further. I hardly spoke to anyone besides my mother.”
Ahn is among an estimated 540,000 young people in Korea who are socially and economically inactive, often confined to their homes with little to no interaction with others. This phenomenon — described with the term "hikikomori" in neighboring Japan, where it was first coined in the late 1990s to describe widespread extreme social withdrawal — has now emerged as a social concern in Korea as well.
A report from the Korea Institute for Health and Social Affairs shed light on the growing problem, revealing that as of 2021, socially withdrawn individuals constituted 5 percent of Koreans aged 19 to 34. The study also found that 45.6 percent of these reclusive young people cited “other” as the reason for their confinement, indicating an inability to pinpoint a clear or singular cause for their withdrawal from society. This finding suggests a multifaceted and often elusive array of factors contributing to this growing demographic.
This was followed by “difficulty finding a job.” About 35 percent said they withdrew after repeatedly failing to find work while their peers were graduating and entering the workforce.
According to Statistics Korea, the employment rate for people aged 15 to 29 stood at 46.2 percent in May, marking the 13th consecutive month of decline. The number of young people who said they were “just taking a break,” meaning they were neither working nor preparing for employment or education, rose to 421,000, up 20,000 from a year earlier.
Socially withdrawn young people interviewed by The Korea Times shared experiences that closely mirrored those findings.
Ahn had pursued a chemistry major with aspirations of transferring into a pharmacy program. Her ambition was to secure a stable, well-paying job, something her parents — both high school graduates — never attained despite working hard all their lives. Witnessing their struggles fueled her desire for a different, more secure path.
After her sophomore year, she threw herself into studying for the highly competitive Pharmacy Education Eligibility Test. But the biggest hurdle was the cost.
“Just one lecture costs over 1 million won ($725),” Ahn said. “If you take all the required courses, it easily adds up to more than 10 million. I felt so guilty asking my parents for help that I couldn’t even focus on studying at first.”
Ahn tried to manage her educational expenses through scholarships, having received one almost every semester. But the burden eventually became too much. In 2015, she began to experience severe depression. The antidepressants prescribed to her, while intended to help, brought an unforeseen side effect: constant, uncontrollable drowsiness that further complicated her ability to function.
At the height of her reclusive period, Ahn's days fell into a reversed rhythm.
“I would fall asleep around 7 a.m., right after my family left for work. Then I’d wake up around 6 p.m., have a meal and go back to bed,” she said.
Her mother would prepare meals, which Ahn would quietly retrieve and eat alone in her room. During that time, her greatest burden was the perception she held of herself.
“Others had already become pharmacists, and I was still stuck like this. I started wondering if I just wasn’t smart enough to make it. I was the one making myself the most depressed,” Ahn said.
She added that it’s still incredibly difficult to come to terms with the fact that she didn’t become a pharmacist.
There are centers in Korea that support young people living in social isolation, like Ahn. One of them is Dudug, which is pronounced "du-deo-ji." The name is a Korean word for mole, intended to evoke the image of a mole tunnel. It was established in 2022 with funding from the Seoul Metropolitan Government, and in April 2024, it expanded by opening a new center on Jeju Island.
Kwon, 37, another socially withdrawn individual who asked to be identified only by his surname, has been preparing to reenter society for nearly a year through Dudug’s program in Seoul.
From 2022 to early 2024, Kwon experienced significant social isolation during a period of unemployment, although he said he had difficulty accurately tracking the passage of time.
After five years as a software programmer in Ulsan, he relocated to Seoul, seeking new professional opportunities. However, following roughly a year at each of two subsequent companies, persistent difficulties with workplace relationships and job performance, exacerbated by depression and anxiety, prompted his withdrawal from society.
“By the time I left my second job, I was feeling a deep sense of failure,” Kwon said. “When you quit a job, you might think about applying elsewhere or trying something new. But I couldn’t even bring myself to think that far.”
He did speak with his family, but only in brief responses when they initiated conversation. For those three years, Kwon's excursions outside were limited to acquiring necessities, rarely extending beyond the immediate intersection near his home.
For Kwon, the hardest moments during his period of social withdrawal were when he became painfully aware of his reality and felt trapped.
“The IT industry is really sensitive to career gaps. After a year or two passed, I kept thinking, ‘This isn’t right. I should be working or taking some kind of training.’ But I was just doing nothing, and felt like society wouldn’t accept that. Then I started wondering, ‘What am I supposed to do now?’”
He first came to Dudug last summer and now works there three days a week. He has also applied for a management support position at another company.
“If I get the job and can adjust, then maybe I can start thinking about the next step — for me, that’s returning to the IT industry I used to work in.”
Dudug founder Lee Eun-ae told The Korea Times that a significant factor contributing to youth social withdrawal in Korea is society's rigid emphasis on attending prestigious universities and securing desirable employment.
“There are many reasons someone might become reclusive, but in Korea, we’re all shaped by the narrow definition of success,” Lee said. “If young people feel they fall short — if they struggle academically or can’t get into a good company — they start to see themselves as losers.”
She explained that repeated experiences of failure can inflict deep emotional scars, prompting some individuals to withdraw as a form of self-protection.
“In the early stages, maybe for the first six months to a year, they might still say, ‘I’m just having trouble finding a job. But as time goes on, many are diagnosed with severe depression or social anxiety disorder.”
Lee emphasized the importance of identifying and supporting these young people early, noting that the longer the withdrawal continues, the harder it becomes to reenter society as companies begin to question the gap in their resumes.
She believes that simply building more support centers is not the solution.
“There are an estimated 130,000 socially withdrawn youth in Seoul alone, but a support center can only serve 500 to 1,000 people. That means most of them will be left out.”
What’s needed, Lee argued, is a stronger focus on helping reclusive youth reconnect with their local communities.
“Some socially withdrawn young people spend entire days in a library preparing for jobs, but they don’t speak to anyone. To reach them, we need a broader range of programs, such as cultural activities and casual gatherings, that offer low-pressure opportunities to connect.”
So which East Asian country (Japan, China, South Korea) actually has it the worst with these said NEETs/socially withdrawn/Lying Flatters?
