[Desk Column] K and Disaster Relief Funds

K, who has been running a restaurant in Mapo for over 10 years, says there has never been a time as difficult as these days in his business. Over the past two years, K has struggled desperately. Among them, the period from March to April was the toughest since he opened his store. Having watched K closely for over 30 years since their school days, K is not the type to complain easily. Even when he became part of the first generation to take the college entrance exam twice in one year as a repeat test-taker, or when he received job offer delays and cancellations from a company he barely got into during the International Monetary Fund (IMF) foreign exchange crisis as a soon-to-be college graduate, K never uttered a word of complaint.

As a new employee, he faced the 2002 household credit card loan crisis head-on due to a credit card he recklessly created, and the real estate market slump that came with the global financial crisis pressed heavily on his shoulders for a long time, leaving no time to enjoy the joy of buying his first home. The store he opened after ending a not-so-short nor too-long 10-year career seemed to provide some stability for K. However, the persistent demands from the franchise headquarters and the soaring rent every year felt like they were stealing K’s chance to become wealthy. Whether business was good or bad, they showed no mercy regardless of the situation.

As if that wasn’t enough, whether due to the skyrocketing minimum wage or a flash-like bleaching of time, K’s gray hair increased and hair loss progressed rapidly. Seeing K deal with the 52-hour workweek system felt unfamiliar. Since he was quite progressive, his friends who knew him were taken aback. The reduction in evening company dinners around K’s store naturally led to a drop in sales. The decrease in customer visits and the corporate card usage limit caused the self-employed K’s situation to worsen.

The steeply rising minimum wage demanded more hours of labor from K. For K, there was no 40-hour or even 52-hour workweek, and minimum wage did not exist. He was a “nominal capitalist” without proper means of production, and now, the “lonely self-employed” known commonly as “boss” was exactly who K was. At some point, he began to call himself a “self-employed worker” in self-mockery.

The final blow came with the novel coronavirus disease (COVID-19) crisis. When reports of “Wuhan pneumonia” appeared in his store last December, K and his friends thought it was a story about another country. As checking statistics became a habitual task, daily life changed. The restaurant, which had more empty time, started to regain vitality only from last week. Trust in government response and quarantine measures built up, and the emergency disaster relief fund sparked the recovery.

At first, K opposed the nationwide disaster relief fund. The initial controversy over the relief fund, which was partly an extension of certain groups’ aversion to basic income, aligned with K’s logic and was patriotic. If only some received it, he questioned the proportion of recipients; if everyone was included, he worried about cash handouts and money throwing, putting the country’s welfare first. Wealthy high-net-worth individuals with secure household storage worried about growth, while ordinary people struggling to make ends meet worried about national debt.

Nevertheless, when I met K a few days ago, he was lively for the first time in a while. After actually receiving it, he said it at least gave him some breathing room. When a severe drought comes, the land must first be soaked with enough rain. Emergency patients must be saved first. Suggesting comprehensive examinations or discussing treatment methods can wait until after the patient is saved. K’s smile has a validity period equal to the “1 million won limit for a family of four.” It is a weekend I want to see the smiles of K and others like him in this land without expiration dates.

Kim Min-jin, Head of the Ministry of SMEs and Startups