When the Democratic Party (DP) held its first primary debate for the Seoul mayoral race, almost all of the five candidates rushed to stress their closeness to President Lee Jae-myung and their willingness to work with him. The moderator fueled this fandom politics as well, asking each candidate whether the president had a favorite – or “Myung-pick,” short for “Lee Jae-myung’s pick.” Throughout the debate, much of the criticism was directed at former Seongdong District Mayor Jung Won-oh, who is supposedly Lee’s preferred candidate and is currently leading among DP contenders while also polling ahead of incumbent Mayor Oh Se-hoon. 

In a debate meant to decide who should lead the capital city, should the defining question really be which candidate the president prefers? Should it matter? Cooperation with the central government is undeniably important especially for a city as large and influential as Seoul. But loyalty and affinity should not be a standard. Reducing a local election to a contest for presidential favor is a symptom of South Korea’s longstanding personality-driven politics, in which individuals matter more than institutions, platforms, or administrative competence. 

This dynamic was visible on the same day in the DP’s first primary debate for governor of Gyeonggi province. Here again, the five candidates repeatedly highlighted their ties to Lee and their commitment to carrying out his agenda. It was also evident in the party leadership race in mid-2025, when lawmakers Jung Chung-rae and Park Chan-dae competed over who better embodied “Myung-shim” – loyalty to Lee’s heart and mind. Park remarked that he and Lee understand each other just by exchanging glances, while Jung responded that he knows Lee even without looking because of their 20-year relationship. Although party leadership is expected to be heavily influenced by the president early in the term, Jung and Park’s rivalry over who is a more hardline Lee supporter created distorted incentives for them to support bills aimed at eliminating the opposition party – despite Lee’s own emphasis on cooperative governance.

Politics built around individuals rather than institutions inevitably breeds factionalism. Allegiance is formed not based on ideology or competence, but through emotional affinity and personal loyalty. Once a leader’s influence fades, followers are left politically stranded, their careers tied to past associations rather than to their own abilities. The result is weaker parties, weaker governance, and less policy continuity. In a healthy system, institutions should outlast personalities rather than the personality becoming the institution itself. 

Korean politics has seen this pattern across party lines. The language of Yoon-shim under Yoon Suk-yeol, Moon-shim under Moon Jae-in, Park-shim under Park Geun-hye, has all reflected the same tendency to organize politics around a leader’s perceived heart and will. The current “Yoon Again” movement is the latest example of how personal loyalty can dominate political identity and turn disagreement into betrayal. When politics becomes personal, criticism is treated as disloyalty, and parties behave less like policy organizations than tribal camps. 

The current turmoil within the People Power Party demonstrates the consequence of this personality politics. The party branded lawmakers who voted for Yoon’s impeachment as traitors. The PP only later, under intense public criticism and polling pressure, adopted a resolution opposing the now-convicted Yoon’s political comeback. When politics is about loyalty to a person, dissent becomes a moral failure rather than legitimate disagreement, which corrodes democratic debate. Ironically, Yoon himself is said to have prioritized loyalty when hiring, despite his famous statement while a candidate for the Moon Jae-in government’s second prosecutor general that he was not loyal to individuals.

This problem is deeply rooted in Korean politics. Since the era of Rhee Syngman, Korean parties have often been criticized for lacking firm ideological foundations and relying instead on image-making and charisma. Without coherent policy platforms, parties fall back on personality to attract support, and voters are encouraged to evaluate politicians by attachment rather than by substance. That produces a vicious cycle wherein parties neglect policy because image is easier and voters lose interest in policy because parties do not offer much of it.

Voters are complicit. When the public rewards celebrity-like political loyalty and treats leaders as objects of fandom rather than scrutiny, personality politics is reinforced. Over time, disappointment with shallow politics feeds apathy, and apathy further weakens the demand for substantive platforms. Thus, voters should take more responsibility for their vote and hold parties accountable to reform this political landscape.