In South Korea, COVID-19 has another risk: online bullies
BUSAN, SOUTHKOREA— The scandal that riveted South Korea’s online busybodies began when Kim Ji- seon checked into a beachside condominium in February. A 29-year-old offiffice worker planning aJunewedding, she had nothing more salacious in mind than meeting with members of her church to organize a youth program.
Then Kim tested positive for the coronavirus — and the details of her life became grist for South Korea’s growing culture of cyberbullying and misinformation, a phenomenon that has complicated the country’s widely praised digital effffffffffffort to fifind those infectedwith the coronavirus.
Using sophisticated digital tools, South Korean authorities publicly revealed Kim’s age, gender, churchnameand recentwhereabouts. Extrapolating from these details, online trolls accused Kimof belonging to a religious cult. Theymatched her itinerary with that of another church memberwhohadtestedpositive and concluded she was cheating on her fifiance.
“Iwasflflabbergasted,” said Kim, now30, inaninterview. “Howcouldtheymake fun of peoplewho were struggling for their lives? But with an IV stuck in my arm, I could not do much about it from my hospital bed.”
Governments around the world have grappled with misinformationandoutright lies about the coronavirus. In SouthKorea, thatstrugglehas become uniquely personal.
SouthKoreaowedmuchof its relative success in fifinding those infectedwith the virus to its aggressive useof surveillance camera footage, smartphone data and credit card transaction records.
But it has also empowered trolls, harassers and
other 21st-century scourges. Authorities have sincepulled back on some of their more obtrusive tactics, though many South Koreans still have raised relatively few outcries over privacy.
“I don’t think this reflflects a lack of respect for privacy in South Korea,” said Park Kyung- sin, a professor at Korea University School of Lawandanexpertonprivacy.
Some people, like Kim, have paid a price. Online harassers labeledher a “cougar,” suggesting she usedsex to proselytize to a younger man. Others saidthat, should she get pregnant, the infant should undergo a paternity test. Officials in the city of Busandebunkedthe rumors, but they continued to spread online.
Once discharged, she fifiled complaints withamajorweb portal to remove the fake content. But after trying to hound dozens of blogs, she gave up. “There were too many of them,” she said.
Theglobalfifififififight against the pandemichas raisedprivacy concerns across countries. Governments, includingthose of Italy, Israel andSingapore, have used cellphone data to trackpotentiallyinfectedpeople and their contacts. China hasemployedmobilephone apps with little disclosure
abouthowtheytrackpeople. Venezuela has urged neighbors to turn each other in.
South Korea, an intensely connected country where nearlyeveryonetotesasmartphone, hastakenthoseefffffffffffforts a step beyond. In addition to making some personal data public, authoritiessometimes use it to send textmessages topeoplewhose cellular data history indicates they were in proximity to an infected person. Other than China, South Korea is virtually the only country in the world whose government has the power to collect such data at will during an epidemic, according to Park.
In the initial desperate monthsofthepandemic, government websites uploaded a detailed sketch of each patient’s daily life until they were diagnosedandisolated. The government did not reveal patients’ names but sometimes releasedrevealing data such as their addresses and employers.
That rush of data fed a growing culture of online harassment. In SouthKorea, doxxing — digging up and publishingmaliciouspersonal information — had already been a growing problem, often cited in the recent suicides of K-pop stars.