Opening my “Gender Advertisements in the Korean Context” lecture these days by talking about erections, I’m loath to end it on something as deflating as domestic savings rates. But then so often am I asked questions afterwards like…

Why are there such sharp distinctions in the ways men and women are presented in ads?

Why are women portrayed passively, weakly, dependent, childishly, and in awkward, unnatural poses to a much greater extent than men?

Why, despite being written about North American advertisements in the 1970s, does Gender Advertisements have such
resonance in Korean advertisements today?

…that in my latest version for the 4th Korea-America Student Conference at Pukyeong National University (a highly-recommended 4-week exchange program by the way!), I decided to address the last by providing the data to backup my argument that it was largely because of a shared experience of housewifization. In the actual event though, the students wisely decided that they’d much rather get lunch than ask any more questions, so let me give a brief overview of that argument here instead:

In short, housewifization is the process of creating a labor division between male workers and female housewives that every advanced capitalist economy has experienced as it developed, essential and fundamental to which is the creation of a female underclass that acquiesces in this state of affairs, finding self-identity and empowerment in its consumer choices rather than in employment. Lest that sound like a gross and – for the purposes of my lecture – rather convenient generalization however, then let me refer you to someone who puts it much better than I could. From page 60-61 of this 2001 edition of The Feminine Mystique (my emphases):

“
        The suburban housewife – she was the dream image of
        the young American woman and the envy, it was said, of all
        woman all over the world. The American housewife – freed
        by science and labor-saving appliances from the drudgery,
        the dangers of childbirth and the illnesses of her
        grandmother. She was healthy, beautiful, educated,
        concerned only about her husband, her children, her
        home. She had found true feminine fulfillment. As a
        housewife and mother, she was respected as a full and
        equal partner to man in his world. She was free to choose
        automobiles, clothes, appliances, supermarkets; she had
        everything that women ever dreamed of.

        In the fifteen years after World War 2, this mystique of
        feminine fulfillment became the cherished and
        self-perpetuating core of contemporary culture.
                                                                                                        ”
And then this from page 197 of the 1963 edition:


“
        Why is it never said that the really crucial function…that
        women serve as housewives is to buy more things for the
        house… somehow, somewhere, someone must have
        figured out that women will buy more things if they are kept in the underused, nameless-yearning, energy-to-get-rid-of state of being housewives…it would take a pretty clever economist to figure out what would keep our affluent economy going if the housewife market began to fall off.
                                                                                                                                                                                                                        ”
Ironically, by 2009 more women would actually be working in the U.S. than men. But rather than the result of enlightened attitudes, this was primarily because layoffs were concentrated in largely male industries like construction, and I am unconvinced that the above dynamic no longer applies in the U.S.

In Korea however, the exact opposite happened. Moreover, while by no means are modern Korean notions of appropriate gender roles a carbon-copy of those in the United States in the 1960s and 1970s, even if Korean women themselves are saying that the parallels between Mad Men and Korean workplaces are uncanny(!), the fact remains that in a society where consumerism was once explicitly equated with national-security, there also happens to be the highest number of non-working women in the OECD. It would be strange if the gender ideologies that underscore this decades-old combination were not heavily reflected in – nay, propagated by – advertising.

This is a simplification of course, one caveat amongst many being that the Korean advertising industry is actually heavily influenced by the Westernized global advertising industry (see this post on the impact of foreign women’s magazines in Korea for a good practical example of that). But, also raising the sociological issues of Convergence vs. Divergence, and the role of Base and Superstructure, the main purpose of my finishing my lecture with that explanation is to leave audiences with encouraging them to think for themselves, by giving them just a tantalizing hint of how deep the sociological rabbit hole goes.

Yes: it’s a cliche, but Gender Advertisements is very much a red pill. In particular, consider what greeted me at work just two days after giving the lecture:

I don’t know their names sorry (anyone?), but I was struck by the different impressions left by the man and the woman’s poses. Whereas he seems to be engaging the viewer’s gaze, the finger on his chin implying that he is actively thinking about him or her, in contrast the woman’s ”bashful knee bend” and “head cant” make her appear to be merely the passive object of that gaze instead.

For more about those advertising poses, see here and here, especially on how they arguably make the person performing them subordinate in many senses, and – regardless of those arguments – the empirical evidence that women do them in advertisements much more than men. Indeed, while that advertisement was perfectly benign in itself of course, and you possibly nonplussed at my even mentioning it, just a little later that week I saw this similar image with Han Ye-seul (한예슬) and Song Seung-heon (송승헌) in a Caffe Bene advertisement, outside a branch opening close to my apartment:

Granted, the head cant helps frame the couple, and the ensuing contrast between the two models makes for a more interesting picture. But neither explains why it’s more often found on women than on men. Moreover, primed to look for more examples from then on, for the rest of July I saw plenty of advertisements featuring women by themselves doing a head-cant, and a few with men by themselves doing one. But when a man and woman were together?

Call it confirmation bias, but it became a slightly surreal experience constantly only ever seeing the woman doing it (it’s one thing to know about something like that in an abstract sense from academic papers, quite another to experience it for yourself). Here’s an example from a recent trip to Seoul:

Another with Lee Min-jeong (이민정) and Gong-yoo (공유) in Seomyeon subway in Busan:

One more with Wang Ji-won (왕지원) and Won-bin (원빈), commercials of which are playing on Korean TV screens at the moment:

Finally, with Jeong Woo-seong (정우성) and Kim Tae-hee (김태희):

Only after 4 weeks(!) of looking, did I finally find a possible example of the opposite in Gwanganli Beach last Saturday (with Song Seung-heon {송승헌} and “Special-K girl” Lee Soo-kyeong {이수경}):

Having told you about the difficulty I had in finding such an ad though, then Murphy’s law dictates that you’ll probably see one yourself very soon; if so, please take a picture send it on, and I’ll buy you a beer next time we’re both in the same city. But it wouldn’t surprise me if I don’t actually hear from anyone until September!

Update 1: Literally just as I typed that last, the headline that “Women still stereotyped in TV ads” appeared in my Google Reader. I should feel vindicated, but I actually find the study described quite superficial, the conclusions meaningless without reference to that fact that roughly 75% of Korean advertisements feature celebrities. Still, I’ll give the National Human Rights Commission the benefit of the doubt until I see Korean language sources.

Update 2: The Korea Herald also has an article, but it’s virtually identical.

James Turnbull

If you have taught even a single class, then you know how hard it can be to stay enthusiastic when some/most of your students' faces look like they are bored to death by what you're saying.  First off let's clear the air, this happens to every teacher in every class at some point or another.  This is not a sign that you are a bad, boring, or ineffective teacher.  It is also not a sign that your students are somehow rude or unmotivated.  A semester/quarter long class is an exercise in endurance for both teachers and students.  Given the inevitability of these moments I suggest that you use them as an opportunity to teach your class something about Erving Goffman's The Presentation of Self in Everyday Life.

Yawns, Heavy Sighs, and Screwed Up Faces
Before class starts on the day that I want to teach Goffman I pick 3-5 students who I've developed a relationship with and I ask each one of them to come sit up at the front of the class with their chairs turned so they face the rest of the students.  I ask each of these students to silently take notes about their experiences viewing the class from this angle.  I ask them to write down what people's facial expressions look like, what they can see the students doing with their hands, and to write down anything they see that would make them think that a student is not really interested in the class or paying attention.

When class starts someone typically asks me why some of the students are sitting at the front.  I come up with some fib on the spot, typically about norm violations.  For the rest of the class I make no mention of the students at the front of the room or even look in their direction.  I want the class to forget that they are there and act normally.

When we're almost near the end of our discussion of Goffman I ask the class to work on a two minute paper or answer some questions in small groups.  Then I quickly discuss with my observers what they saw and help them frame their observations in the language of Goffman.  When I tell the class that the panel of students at the front have been taking notes about their facial expressions and body language they typically break up in laughter.  Without fail the observers have found the experience eye opening and they say things like, "People in this class act like they are invisible" or  "No one in here is good at hiding their phones while they text."  When I ask the panel if, based on the facial expressions and body language of the students, they think the class was interested in today's discussion of Goffman the panel almost always says, "no" or, "hell no".  The rest of the class is shocked to hear that their perceptions of their facial expressions and body language were so far from the perception of the observing students.

What I love about this activity is that I am not the one who has to tell the students how poorly they present themselves.  If I were to simply tell them what I see everyday it would sound like nagging or maybe even offensive, but when they hear it from their peers they take the feedback with no argument.  I also love this activity because it is like a tool kit that you can use later in the semester.  If you look out onto your class and see a ocean of yawns, heavy sighs, and screwed up faces you can say, "Do you guys remember that Goffman activity we did because looking out at you all today it seems you may have forgotten the lessons learned."  Students immediately perk up or put away their cell phones.

Nathan Palmer