Korean Family Planning Advertisements, 1960s-1980s — Are Today’s Young Couples Less Informed than Their Parents Were?
…American military officers helped make abortion the population control tool of choice in those Asian countries where they wielded influence, first in Japan in the late 1940s and 1950s, then South Korea in the 1960s. USAID, America’s aid agency, provided Jeeps for mobile clinics which roamed South Korea performing abortions. At one point, a quarter of the country’s health budget was going on population control and the number of abortions hit an all-time record in Seoul, where, in 1977, there were 2.75 abortions for every live birth. “What would have happened if the government hadn’t allowed for such easy abortion?” asks one sociologist. “I don’t think sex-selective abortion would have become so popular.”
Apropos of the above quote, from The Economist’s review of Mara Hvistendahl’s Unnatural Selection: Choosing Boys Over Girls, and the Consequences of a World Full of Men (2011), let me present some government advertisements of the period to give you a better impression of that amazing zeal for population control back then. More specifically, they also show that whereas couples were encouraged to have two children in the 1970s, and not to favor boys over girls, this would be reduced to only one child by the 1980s, and messages about the sex-ratio invariably diluted.
Obviously, these would come to play a huge role in today’s world-low birthrate, the difficulty many Korean men are now having in finding wives (although fortunately the sex-ratio among newborns has since been normalized), and the ensuing massive influx of overseas brides. Less obviously, they defy stereotypes about Koreans’ squeamishness when it comes to sexual matters, as I’ll explain.
But first, some context. All 30 or so advertisements I’ve been able to find were produced by the Planned Parenthood Federation of Korea (대한가족계획협회; now known as the Planned Population Federation of Korea {PPFK; 인구보선복지협회}) and/or the now defunct Ministry of Health and Social Affairs (보건사회부), and can be found here, here, here, and here, as well as (best) on the PPFK’s website.
Text, both calenders — Did you know that the most effective, safest, and simplest device is the loop (IUD)? People who want one, please go to a welfare or family planning center / Black headline, right calender — Let's have the proper number of babies, and raise them well!
Formed in April 1961 just before the coup, the PPFK would soon have the strong support of the military government. But according to Seungsook Moon in Militarized Modernity and Gendered Citizenship in South Korea (2005; pp. 81-2), its activities wouldn’t really take off until the 1970s, which possibly explains its rather uninspired efforts above (but note though, that the government itself was extremely active in population control well before then):
The modernizing state had to launch aggressive propaganda for family planning because the idea of contraception was foreign to most Koreans, who tended to believe that having many children meant good luck and that every child would bring his or her own food into the world….
….The state…worked closely with the PPFK to change the public perception of birth control, establishing a department of public relations in 1970 to make the idea and practice of contraception familiar to the populace. The PPFK increasingly relied on mass media (radio, television, newspapers, magazines and education texts of its own) to disseminate positive images and information about families with a small number of children. To encourage popular participation, the PPFK organized popular contests of various kinds, ranging from posters, songs, and slogans to stories of personal experiences by mothers and wives concerning contraception.
A fascinating book, it’s difficult not to quote much more here, as the next few pages make it clear that Korea’s population policies were just as systematic and draconian as China’s. In light of what is revealed in Hvistendahl’s more recent book though, it is strange that it doesn’t also discuss abortions, but it does mention that while IUDs insertions were offered freely in the 1960s (with the Marine Corps mobilized to provide them to isolated islanders), and considered the “patriotic” and “ideal” form of contraception (but with the pill also introduced in 1968 to alleviate their effects, in stark contrast to Japan), by the second half of the 1970s it would be female sterilization that was offered and aggressively applied, becoming “what can only be described as a sterilization mania” by the 1980s. Between 1982 and 1987, over 2 million Korean women would be sterilized, a “semiforced mass sterilization” that “led to abrupt reductions in the fertility rate and the rate of population growth in the 1980s” (p. 85).
Left, umbrella — The path to youth and beauty is family planning / Both posters — Don't discriminate between boys and girls, have only two children and raise them well (This slogan can be seen on many 1970s posters)
Left, headline — Which method is good?; cup — Family planning consultations; man, text — "I'll do it"; text, bottom — 1975 is International Women's Year / Right, 19th Family Weekly Magazine May 5-12 1974 — The World has One Destiny; NCC= The National Council of Churches in Korea (한국기독교교회협의회)
This poster on the left above is particularly interesting, and not just because that was the year that March 8 — which *cough* happens to be my birthday — was made International Women’s Day (alas, I was born a year later). Rather, it’s because of the guy saying “I’ll do it”, which couldn’t help but remind me of young Koreans’ surprising attitude that contraception is exclusively men’s responsibility (as indeed the Japanese think too). However, women were overwhemingly the focus of population control drives back then (Moon notes that only 1 vasectomy was performed for every 10 IUD insertions, although I think the ratio to female sterilizations would have been more useful), and women’s organizations co-opted or specifically created by the state to carry them out, so it seems anachronistic to see a connection between young Koreans’ attitudes today and those of their parents at the same age.
Indeed, this one on the left below turns out not to be about family-planning at all, but rather women’s rights (update: unfortunately, I’m having formatting problems sorry, so let me translate here instead):
Left, headline — We are all [the same] human; Man (clockwise from hat) — Family registry rights, parental rights, inheritance, children, estate; Text — Women’s Family Law Change Committee / Right, arrow — The path to a Gross National Income of of $1000 in 1981; Text, below — (Previous 1970s’ slogan)
Next, before moving on to posters from the 1980s, note that sterilization campaigns would come to be complimented by various economic incentives (p. 85):
In 1981, confronting negative economic growth for the first time since 1982, along with a decrease in the number of sterilization acceptors, the state issued “Countermeasures to Population Growth.” These measures were characterized by incentives to a family with one or two [James - ?] children; priority in getting housing loans and business loans, monetary support of low-income families, and free medical service for the first visit. During the 1980s, variations of these kinds of incentives were introduced almost every year.
Left — Two children is many too! / Right — Korea's population has already exceeded 40 million
And here are two posters with sons, and then two with daughters. But note that, confusedly, there were also some with two children like those in the 1970s though, and that clearly the government and PPFK were still very much concerned about the sex-ratio.
However, like I said that message was surely somewhat diluted by having some posters featuring and explicitly praising having a son, and it would be interesting to do a content analysis to determine the ratio of those that depicted sons to daughters, two children, or (preferably) a sex-neutral image like the eggs above:
Left — One family, full of love. One child, full of health / Right, headline — Because of one son; Text — Overpopulation is everybody's responsibility
Again, apologies for having formatting problems above:
Top — A blessing of one child, loved strongly / Bottom — Raise one daughter well, and you won’t envy [those who have] ten sons
Left, sign — Korea's current population: 40,524,837, Korea is overflowing; Text in map — Even if you only have one child, Korea is overflowing / Right — Korea is already overflowing
Finally, please note that these posters are just a handful of those available on the PPFK website, and which in turn must be a small sample of all that were produced. But in combination with what I’ve learnt from Militarized Modernity, they’ve still lead me to an interesting conclusion. Which is that, bearing in mind Koreans’ reputation for procrastination, yet doing things with outstanding zeal and efficiency once they set their minds to them (albeit usually precisely because of putting them off for so long), sexual matters are no exception, despite Koreans’ conservative reputation. Moreover, and intriguingly, it appears that young Korean couples of the 1970s and 1980s were likely to have been much better educated and informed than their children are now.
Assuming it does exist, what on Earth happened in the 1990s and 2000s to account for this curious generation gap? And why, even though technically adults rather than children were the target of government campaigns in the 1970s and 1980s, is sex education in Korea today so appalling?
Getting an Abortion in Korea
(Source: unknown)
Thanks again to this university student for taking the time to write about her recent experience. Naturally, she’d like to remain anonymous, but she’d be happy to answer any questions readers may have in the comments (provided they’re not too intrusive):
……For me it started when I didn’t get my period. I was a bit worried as two weeks ago, during intercourse, my boyfriend’s condom slipped and so we had to change in the middle to a new one. Anyways, the pregnancy test kit came out with two visible lines. I was surprised and was stunned for about two minutes. Then, reality hit me: I didn’t cry, I immediately called my boyfriend, and we talked about this together, which I think was, for me, a better way to relax and calm down than crying.
We accessed the situation and decided to get an abortion, as we were both university students and thus didn’t have any ability to support ourselves. For me, having a baby in Korea meant that any chances of you getting a professional job was over, and I just couldn’t face that, not only because of my dreams but also because of the huge demands that my parents bore to put me in college. Even if we had the baby, I reasoned, we wouldn’t be able to raise him/her in a high-quality environment, as both of us would probably be working at low paid jobs w/ long hours just to support our family. We began to search up abortion clinics in our area and was lucky to find one with ease.
However, due to the government regulating abortions with more severity, we were worried about the price of an abortion. We searched up and found that (I was 4 weeks pregnant, or 2 weeks past from the initial fertilization) about 3 yrs ago, before the minister of health had said that stupid comment about abortion and fertility rates, it was about 400,000 won for women who were 4 weeks pregnant like me. But, more current searches showed that it could now be anywhere from 1 to 2 million won – basically it depends on what the hospital says, as there is no set price, and with the new regulations doctors can lose their license if it’s proved that they’ve done it more than 3 times. We were very stressed over this issue, as prices tend to skyrocket with each passing week (source, right).
Anyways, we entered the clinic, and I got an ultrasound. The doctor said that the fetus at that stage was too small, and that I should visit the next week. I was initially skeptical as I wasn’t sure if the doctor was telling the truth or if she wanted me to pay a bit more, but I had no choice, and did as the doctor told me. The following week I re-visited the clinic but this time a different doctor checked the fetus. And what she said made me upset. Basically, she told me that I shouldn’t have such a loose lifestyle, that I should care more about contraception, why I had waited so long before coming to visit, and so on and so forth. But I had no choice, since if I go to a different clinic I have to pay for the ultrasound again. After that dismal lecture, I went to discuss the pay and other things with another person (I don’t know what her job is exactly-maybe some sort of consultant?). The pay was 800,000 won, which was a relief. The consultant explained everything: how I shouldn’t eat anything 6 hrs before the operation, how I might not be able to have a baby ever again, how much it costs, what the aftereffects were, how I needed my boyfriend (who’s a bit older than I was) to act as a guardian and so I needed him to come with me on the day of the operation, and so forth.
During the next day, we desperately raised some money; I was worried as well not because of the money but because of the guilt. I tried to assuage my feelings – after all, a 5 week old baby doesn’t have its cerebrum developed yet; it doesn’t have feelings – but it was a bit hard. But in the end, the day came, and I went to the clinic, signed everything (the abortion was to be called a missed abortion, and since it’s outlawed I can’t demand any sort of papers from them), paid (in cash), and got ready for the operation. When I went into the operation room, it frightened me. There was this bed, and there was a little metal bowl right under it-that’s when it hit me the most that something that could potentially grow into a being with feelings would be erased forever, never to appear again, and it made me quite sad, but I had no choice – I couldn’t back out. They strapped me onto the bed, and I was knocked out. The next thing I remember is being back in the little ward (it’s very small-about the size of a small elevator, and is for one person only) with my boyfriend right next to me; apparently I had just cried, hugged the nurse and said “sorry” and “thank you”, and then had thrown up. After about 30 minutes of lying down and talking with my boyfriend, the dizziness subsided, the cramp in my stomach had went away, and I walked out of the ward. The lady at the counter said that I had to re-visit about 2 days from now, and then every 3~4 days to check up for the next two weeks (the price was all included in the initial payment) and gave me some medicine.
Overall, it was not that much of a traumatic experience, but I won’t ever be able to forget the little bowl. It saddens me even now (end).
(Source)
See here and here for two more accounts of getting an abortion, in Seoul and Busan respectively, and here for more context on the criminalization of abortion in Korea in recent years (or, technically, the sudden enforcement of existing laws, after being ignored for 60 years).
Update – See here for a thoughtful response to this post by Roboseyo.
Update 2 – And here for another by Angry K-pop Fan. Just to clarify something mentioned in both though, while my wife, for instance, was once unfortunate enough to come across a very judgmental pharmacist when buying the pill, that was over a decade ago. Indeed, as Gomushin Girl and many other commenters here have pointed out, that is extremely rare these days (especially in the cities), and regardless they did (and do) still sell it nevertheless, unlike some US pharmacists that refuse to for religious reasons.
Sex and the University, Part 4: A Scared 19 Year-Old’s Ob-Gyn Experience
( Source: Dramabeans )
With thanks to Marilyn for translating it, allow me to present the fourth and final article in the Sex and the University series:
겁많은 스무살 기자의 산부인과 검진 체험기 / A scared 20 year-old reporter’s ob-gyn exam experience (19 in Western age)
대한산부인과학회는 지난 5월 ‘퍼플리본 캠페인’을 시작했다. 올해부터 매년 5월 셋째 주에 진행될 예정인 이 캠페인은 여성암 중 사망률 2위를 차지하고 있지만 비교적 잘 알려지지 않은 자궁경부암에 대해 알리고 검진율이 낮은 20~30대 여성들의 관심을 유도하기 위한 것이다. 김상운 사무총장은 “많은 여성질환들이 젊을 때부터 정기검진을 하면 예방효과가 크다”며 대학생들도 산부인과 검진을 받을 것을 권했다. 그러나 이러한 필요성에도 불구하고 많은 여대생들이 병원을 찾기를 꺼린다. 산부인과는 임신한 여성들만 찾는 다는 인식이 미혼 여성들로 하여금 산부인과 문턱을 넘는 일을 어렵게 만들기 때문이다.
Last May, the Korean Society of Obstetrics and Gynecology started the “purple ribbon” campaign. This purposes of this campaign, planned to take place during the third week of May from this year [2010] on, are to raise awareness of cervical cancer, which, though the second deadliest of cancers that only affect women, is not well known, and to increase interest among women in their 20s and 30s, who rarely get screenings. Secretary-general Kim Sang-woon said, “If many female patients get regular screenings from a young age, there will be great preventative effects,” and recommended that university students get ob-gyn exams as well. However, despite such necessity, many female college students are reluctant to visit a clinic. This is because the belief that only pregnant women go there makes entering the ob-gyn’s office difficult for unmarried women.
(Source)
이런 상황에 놓인 여대생들을 대표해 10학번 새내기 기자가 직접 산부인과를 방문해 검진을 받아보기로 했다. 미혼여성을 대상으로 한 가장 기본적인 검진은 초음파 검사와 혈액검사라고 한다. 기자는 인터넷을 통해 신촌의 산부인과를 수소문한 끝에 신촌역 근처 S산부인과로 결정했다. 방문 전 인터넷사이트의 예약 게시판에 평소 생리통이 심했던 기자의 고충을 적고 예약을 완료했다.
Representing college women put in this kind of situation, this freshman reporter, who entered university in 2010, agreed to personally visit an ob-gyn and get an exam. It is said that the most basic exam for unmarried women is an ultrasound and a blood test. After asking around about Sinchon-area obstetrician-gynecologists on the Internet, I chose ‘S’ Obstetrics-Gynecology, near Sinchon Station. Before going, I wrote on the appointment board on the clinic’s website that my problem was severe menstrual pain and booked my appointment.
예약한 날짜가 다가와 초조한 마음으로 병원을 찾았다. 산부인과와의 인연은 20년 전 태어나며 맺었던 것이 마지막이라 그곳에서 무슨 일이 생길지 도무지 감이 잡히지 않았다. 잠시 기다리자 접수대에서 이름이 호명됐고 전문의와 오늘 받을 검진의 기본적인 사항에 대한 이야기를 나눴다. 혈액검사는 난소암 유무를 가리기 위한 것이고, 초음파 검사는 자궁에 근종이나 난소에 혹이 있는지를 알아보기 위한 것인데 항문 또는 질을 통해 검사한다고 했다. 검진 받는 여성의 성관계 여부에 따라 추가적인 암 검사가 더해진다. 그렇게 접수를 마치고 이유 모를 공포에 휩싸여 호명되기를 기다렸다. 내 나이 꽃다운 스무살, 산부인과에 있다는 사실만으로도 이미 부인과 질병에 걸려버린 느낌이라 불안감은 점점 더 증폭됐다 (source, below).
The appointment date approached and I went to the clinic with an anxious heart. My last connection to the ob-gyn had been made when I was being born twenty years ago, so I had no clue what was about to happen there. After waiting a moment, my name was called by the front desk and I talked with the specialist [prob. the doctor] about the basics of the exam I would receive that day. The specialist said the blood test would detect ovarian cancer, and the ultrasound would check for uterine fibroids and ovarian cysts; the exam would be done through the anal passage or vagina. Contingent upon the sexual activity of the woman receiving the exam, additional cancer screenings are added. In that manner, I completed my registration and then, filled with fear without knowing why, I waited for my name to be called. I am a 20-year-old in the bloom of youth, but just the fact that I was at the ob-gyn gave me the feeling that I already had a gynecological disease, and my discomfort continued to increase.
먼저 초음파 검사를 받기 위해 탈의실로 가 아래를 모두 벗고 발목까지 오는 긴 치마를 입었다. 두려운 마음으로 검진실 문을 열자 특이한 모양의 의자가 보였다. 치과 의자처럼 생겼는데 다리를 벌려 고정하는 받침대가 추가된 형태였다. 좋지 않은 예감이 든다. 예감적중, 간호사가 의자에 누워 다리를 벌리라고 한다. 겁에 질려 검사가 아프냐고 묻자 간호사는 태연하게 “불편할 수 있어요”라고 대답한다.
First, in order to get the ultrasound exam, I went to a changing room, took off all of my lower-body clothing and put on a long skirt that reached to my ankles. Fearfully, I opened the exam room door and saw a specially-shaped chair. It looked like a dentist’s chair but with the addition of a rack to which spread legs could be fastened. I had a bad feeling about that. My feeling was right – the nurse told me to lay down on the chair and spread my legs. Scared, I asked if the exam would hurt; the nurse calmly answered, “It may be uncomfortable.”
이윽고 냉철한 표정의 여의사가 들어와 초음파 검사 도구를 항문에 집어넣는다. 간호사 말대로다. 아프지는 않지만 확실히 ‘불편’했다. 마치 배변을 보고 있는 듯한 느낌이 몰려왔다가 사라졌다. 윤활제를 바른 탓에 시원한 느낌이 들었다. 기분이 묘하다. 이 와중에 그나마 여의사라 다행이라는 생각을 한다.
(Sources: left, right)
Before long, the female doctor entered with a dispassionate expression and put the ultrasound exam instrument in my anal passage. It was as the nurse had said. It didn’t hurt, but it was certainly uncomfortable. A strong feeling that I was about to have a bowel movement came and disappeared. Because of the lubricant spread [on the instrument], there was a cool sensation. I felt strange. At that time, I thought it was at least fortunate that it was a woman doctor.
누워서 눈앞의 스크린을 보자 나의 자궁과 난소가 보인다. 혹이나 다른 이상은 발견되지 않았다. 스크린을 보던 의사가 “생리하실 때 아플 것처럼 생긴 자궁이네요”라고 말했다. 산부인과에 온 목적이 해결되는 감동적인 순간, 내 몸에는 전혀 이상이 없으며 단지 ‘자궁 모양’ 문제였음을 깨닫는다. 산부인과에 진작 왔으면 불안에 떨지 않아도 되었을 것을. 며칠 뒤에는 “난소암 혈액검사 결과, 정상입니다”라는 간략한 문자가 도착했다. 모든 검사 종료, 이제야 안도했다.
(Source)
As I lay and looked at the screen in front of me, my cervix and ovaries were visible. No cysts or other irregularities were detected. The doctor, looking at the screen, said, “Your cervix looks like it would hurt during menstruation.” At this emotional moment in which my purpose for coming to the ob-gyn was resolved, I realized that there was nothing wrong with my body, only a problem with “cervix shape.” Also, that had I come to the ob-gyn earlier, I wouldn’t have needed to be anxious [about the pain]. A few days later, the brief text message, “Your ovarian cancer blood test results were normal” arrived. At the end of all the exams, I finally felt relieved.
스무살 기자에게 산부인과 검사는 약간의 수치와 6만원이라는 비용을 수반한다는 점에서 그리 유쾌한 경험은 아니었다. 하지만 자신의 몸을 위해 한 번은 가볼 필요가 있는 것 같다. 기자의 경우 마침 결과가 좋아 적어도 5년 동안은 다시 이 경험을 하지 않아도 되겠다 싶어 안심했다. 그러나 부인과 질병에 가족력이 있거나 성관계 경험이 있을 경우 1년에 한 번씩은 산부인과에 가는 것이 좋다고 하니, 참고하면 되겠다.
Considering the slight shame and the 60,000 Won fee, the ob-gyn exam was not a very pleasant experience for this 20 year-old reporter. However, it does seem that going once is necessary, for the sake of one’s body. I felt relieved that I wouldn’t have to have this experience again for at least five years because the results happened to be good in my case. Just know that if you have a family history of gynecological diseases or have sexual experience, though, they said that going to the ob-gyn once a year is good (end).
(Source)
A little disappointed with the reporter’s plan not to lose her virginity in the next 5 year however, a genuine waste of one’s youth(!), then let me end on a rather more lecherous note via the above image, found in passing while preparing this post. Indeed, with a cover that says “Reasons Women Have To Get On Top“, the book sounds intriguing, and now I feel like doing some translating of my own next week!^^
(For more in the Sex and the University series, please see Parts 1-3 on students’ levels of sexual experience and activity, on an interview with a sex columnist, and on students’ cohabitation culture respectively)
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