By being one of the most beautiful months, April fools us with her cruelty. While the blooming spots of pink, yellow, red, and white flourish; while the sky boasts her best colors; while the excitement of spring veils the harsh winter days; we are not exempt. The warmer days and softer winds do not comfort us—we are not exempt from depression. T.S Eliot begins his poem “The Waste Land” with the famous line: “April is the cruellest month”. Eliot writes “The Waste Land” as a way to express his sense of loss and despair after the First World War. In the poem, spring—the epitome of rebirth—creates a sense of dissonance along with the speaker’s hopelessness, and paradoxically serves to accentuate the speaker’s sadness. However, Eliot is not singular in his plea to escape the harshness of spring. Contrary to popular belief, more people are affected by depression in spring than in winter. In a 2019 article published by John Hopkins, psychiatrist Adam Kaplin states: “In April, May and June, the suicide rate goes up and is the highest”. Kaplin follows by saying that these “…numbers can be two to three times higher than in December, when suicide rates are the lowest.” Although we typically tie seasonal depression with autumn and winter, spring triggers depression as well. The phenomenon of spring depression can also be seen in popular media. An example would be the song “A Cruel April” by South Korean indie band— Broccoli, You Too? The 2012 song builds onto Eliot’s description of April being “the cruellest month” with the following lyrics: April has begun, as if telling a lie Everyone is going back to their places But it feels like I'm left here all alone Not knowing where to go … As the flowers bloom when spring comes The children that are too old to feel their beating hearts, Have nowhere to go Even when the spring light is bright The band addresses important issues through the concept of “A Cruel April”: the issue of isolation and empathy. The song describes how spring creates a sense of isolation, where the whole world seems happy and lively and new and lovely—when you are not. We may feel as though we are exempt from the happiness given to the whole world, as the song mentions: “Everyone is going back to their places, but it feels like I’m left here all alone”. When we are unable to “empathise” and take part in the happiness that surrounds us, we begin to feel alienated and estranged. That is the cruelty of spring. The issue of empathy is one caused by a lack thereof. It is difficult to express our own hardships when everyone else seems to be perfectly happy. We may fear “contaminating” others’ happiness with our sadness. Furthermore, it becomes easier to compare ourselves with others—who seem to be infinitely happier (especially with the façade of social media). The vibrant atmosphere of spring ironically creates an environment where we are unable to express our sadness. No one is “safe” from depression. No one can be “safe” from depression. We cannot blame ourselves, or anyone for depression—but this is not to say that we should remain in an unhealthy state. The realization that the depressive state is an irregular, unhealthy state is pivotal in the process of recovery. Depression comes in autumn, winter, summer, and spring. It can come when we are young or old. It can come at any time of our lives, but we do not need to fear it. There is always a way, there is always help. You are never alone. Spring symbolizes rebirth, hope, life, and vivacity. While many take part in the liveliness of the season, there are many who are exempt from the kindness of the season. Eliot’s poem shares with me the common understanding that as humans, we tend to fear happiness and hope after experiencing despair and loss. We fear that spring will bring a harsher winter and we fear our own happiness because we are too used to being hurt. But hope is a strange thing, and it is a dangerous thing, and it is within us. Let us take care of each other so that even when April is cruel, we can rely on each other. Photo courtesy of @amyhamiltonphotographer (Instagram) --Ed.

The students and faculty at Seoul National University were left stranded Thursday amid an all-out strike by city bus drivers, which left 97 percent of Seoul’s public buses halted for 11 hours. The Seoul Bus Labor Union had initially requested that bus companies in Seoul raise hourly wages by 12.7 percent, citing low wages as the reason behind the exodus of bus drivers. However, the Seoul Bus Transportation Business Association, which represents the management, maintained its plan for a 2.5 percent wage-hike, calling the union’s demand “excessive.” In light of such differences, 88 percent of union members voted in favor of a plan to launch a city-wide strike, during a union meeting held on 19 March. The strike began at 4 a.m. on Thursday. Many Seoul citizens suffered from the strike during morning rush hour. The students and faculty at SNU were no exception, as city buses are one of the only ways to reach SNU’s Gwanak Campus. Students studying in building 301 and 302 experienced the most inconvenience, as their only option of getting to class was to take the city bus. Some students who were unaware of the strike experienced panic when they found themselves stranded. “I urgently hailed a taxi from Seoul National Univ. subway station after learning about the strike ten minutes before class,” said a senior surnamed Lee. Meanwhile, town buses and shuttle buses were more crowded than usual. "I usually use the shuttle bus or a city bus (to get to school). But today, I took Gwanak 02, a town bus, because I was informed about the strike. My friends who had to take the shuttle bus this morning couldn’t get on the bus for more than 20 minutes because they were full of people," said Kim Ji-won, a student studying at the Department of Business. "If the strike continues, I am going to take the school shuttle bus or walk to the university. I might also carpool in a taxi,” said Kim, describing the ways she was going to adapt in case the strike was prolonged. Meanwhile, the Seoul City government also devised measures to alleviate inconveniences. Seoul Subway operated its trains at shorter intervals and extended the last train time by about one hour. Moreover, there were also 250 free shuttle buses provided by district governments for the citizens. In Gwanak-gu, the district where SNU is located, public shuttle buses from Daehak-dong and Bongcheon-dong ran to SNU on a 20-minute schedule. Lasting 11 hours, the strike ended at 3:20 p.m., when the union and management agreed on a plan to increase hourly-wages by 4.8 percent, while guaranteeing an extra 650,000 won ($480.71) in holiday allowances, according to Seoul City which mediated the agreement. “It may have been inconvenient if the strike was prolonged, but I am glad that it ended,” said another student Park Joo-min, expressing relief that the union and management had reached an agreement. This is the first bus strike in Seoul since 2012.

For a very long time, the East and the West—essentially Europe and North America—have held divergent approaches to education. With its roots in Confucianism, the East has benefited from vertical education, where subordinates passively receive knowledge from superiors. Conversely, teachers in the West are trained to convey a subject, and students actively engage in questioning the subject matter as they build and refine ideas through conversation. A look in the etymology and historical customs can offer a potential explanation to the differences of the perception of studying. The word education in Korean, gyoyuk, comes from the Chinese word for education, jiaoyu. Jiao is a combination of xiao, an old word for “study,” xue, and zhi, a symbol of a figure carrying a whip. The second character yu represents a mother holding a newborn. In this sense, the vertical educational philosophy of parents and teachers teaching and nurturing children was fully imbued in the term from the beginning. The modern Eastern educational environment, which recognizes the traditional knowledge of past generations and stresses careful expression of thoughts, words, and actions, likely began from this perspective. Conversely, the word "education" in English originates from the Latin word educare, which combines the words "pull out" (ducare) with the prefix "e," meaning "out." As such, it could be said that Western education has aimed to enhance and materialize the distinct capabilities of every individual, “pulling out” knowledge from brains. Likewise, the perception of education within different cultures may account for the disparities in study techniques. Memorizing and practicing the words of the sage exactly has been the definition of studying in the East. It is believed that the teachings of the sages are universally known, and thus, it is deemed crucial to accurately recall their words. Seodang was the traditional school in Korea, from the Goryeo Dynasty to Joseon Dynasty, where the saint's words were read out in books to students, who then recited the passages. Reading material aloud while memorizing it is still a common practice not only in Korean classrooms, but also in other Asian countries as well, typically places like China. In contrast, pursuing education in the West more often entails voicing one's opinions, essentially using "questioning" as a study strategy to respect the opinions of each individual learner. They debate and ask certain questions to arrive at conclusions. Useful knowledge means long-lasting knowledge, therefore, knowledge is made a part of people through dialogue and answering questions. To an extent, studying in the Western tradition has been more about the personal development of the learner than gaining general knowledge. Artifacts in the Louvre Museum show that reading didn’t exist in the classrooms of ancient Rome, as written records show that kids engaged in open discussion. In ancient Rome, the goal of education was to cultivate critical thinking and self-expression abilities through dialogue, and the effects of these customs seem to exist to this day. While it’s undeniable that ongoing customs of global education are shaped by a multitude of factors beyond linguistic and historical contexts, the historical roots and linguistic nuances surrounding education offer valuable insights into the differing approaches between the East and the West, and they could be seen as extended expressions of different cultures’ beliefs and values.

Extinction is an issue that evokes images of a dystopian future: barren landscapes devoid of life, save the constant whirring of industrial factories and machines. Indeed, humans have set our planet on a one-way trip to such a future. As The World Counts website estimates, 29% of the earth’s species are at risk of extinction at any given moment; when enumerated, this amounts to more than 37,000 different types of plants and animals. Given this harrowing figure, some organizations have resorted to radical means to combat the current crisis. Meet Colossal: the company that will bring back the woolly mammoth. When thinking of solutions for restoring biodiversity, de-extinction is rarely the first idea that comes to mind. But Colossal proposes it will do just that. The company’s seminal project, the de-extinction of the woolly mammoth, outlines a 10-step process that aims to bring back the ancient ancestor of modern-day elephants. The project, which relies on gene sequencing technology to splice the DNA of mammoths and the Asian elephant, hinges on the prospect of megafauna benefitting our Earth’s ecosystem. As an article by The Conversation explains, the outcome that Colossal hopes for is that the mammoth’s (or, in this case, mammophant’s) return will curb climate change—a direct cause of extinction. Previously, mammoths were responsible for maintaining the grasslands of the Arctic tundra, which have since been overgrown with shrubbery. Grasslands, with greater reflective properties, would be adept at preventing the Siberian permafrost from melting and releasing its carbon reservoirs. Granted, the notion of seeing mammoths walking the Earth in itself inspires awe and excitement. Yet, films like Jurassic Park and other popular media have long since wrestled with the consequences of de-extinction. And while it’s farfetched that mammoths would turn rogue on their captors and escape into human society (as the plot of the Jurassic World trilogy might have us believe), there are other, more severe ethical concerns to consider. Should Colossal succeed, their use of gene sequencing technology would open the floodgates to a new era of species revitalization, which may end up harming the delicate balance of our ecosystem in unforeseen ways. Just as Victor, the young scientist from Mary Shelley’s canonical work Frankenstein, laments imbuing life into his monstrous creature, there’s a lesson to be had about playing God. During an interview with NPR, paleontologist Joseph Frederickson expressed that Colossal’s technology could better serve at preventing the extinction of existing species. In truth, overzealousness might take our attention away from the real issue at hand: protecting what we still have left. Given the speed at which current technology is developing, it might not be long before the restoration of extinct species becomes a common occurrence. Nevertheless, we shouldn’t regard de-extinction as a “fix-all” solution. Preserving the Earth’s current biodiversity should be our top priority, rather than reliance on a fail-safe. Perhaps someday, when mammoths do walk the Earth again, we’ll be well on our way to a brighter, more optimistic future.

Books, videos, movies, and podcasts; we are now seeing the proliferation of true crime content in a multitude of forms across all media platforms. Due to the accessibility of these detailed stories of what are usually horrendous criminal cases, more and more people have shown interest in this genre of media. From watching true crime documentaries at home to listening to podcasts while exercising, this genre of content has become a source of entertainment for a vast audience. But this rapid growth of a new category of entertainment has also led to a rise in an ethical debate: is it moral to consume often horrific stories of another person’s life or trauma as a form of entertainment? True crime, by definition, is a nonfiction genre that deals with real-life criminal cases, and recently there have been more content creators dissecting these crimes; they are especially prevalent on YouTube and Spotify in the form of podcasts. While there is the stance that it spreads awareness around the cases, true crime content inevitably generates a lot of often unwarranted fear and even paranoia. The discussions of these topics can become excessively graphic and thus, overconsumption of or obsession with this genre may be detrimental to one’s mental health. True crime content creators also face the criticism that they are being insensitive about the traumatic events that they detail. Many often discuss these topics while engaging in mundane activities, such as doing make-up or eating. This makes them seem like they regard these issues as topics of lighthearted conversation and, to many, this comes across as disrespectful. It also raises the question of whether or not it is worth potentially retraumatizing the victims and their families by bringing up memories of closed cases that they likely want to move on from. Furthermore, a lot of this content is monetized, and the idea that these creators are profiting off of another’s misfortune understandably leaves a bitter taste in people’s mouths. Another important matter of contention surrounds the content that covers ongoing cases. These cases must be dealt with extreme caution as new information is still being released and it is easy to skew the story and provide a biased view. As the case unfolds in real life, the story may change drastically, and despite the creators’ efforts, there will inevitably be information that is incorrect or omitted entirely. This additional spotlight from such content could also result in the victims and their families getting harassed by the public; their past lives may be revealed and their every action exposed to potential attack. Furthermore, one wrong accusation by an unqualified creator could lead to a large community bashing the unjustly accused, destroying their reputation. The extent of this harassment is only exacerbated by the fact that it is difficult to alter information that is posted permanently as a video or podcast. Ultimately, the choice to advocate or condemn the true crime genre is in the hands of the consumer. However, considering the risks associated with such content, especially towards the victims themselves, it’s understandably hard to fully justify this kind of content and praise it under the name of “raising awareness.”

In the last few years, more and more gamers have begun expressing their beliefs that the gaming industry is past its prime, due to the declining quality of releases, rapidly increasing prices, and terrible working conditions, especially from name-brand studios. This year, their frustrations have come to a head with the full release of Baldur’s Gate 3 (BG3) in August 2023. By all means, BG3 has been a resounding success in all aspects, even winning the Game of the Year award; yet this success is exactly why the simmering tension has come to a boiling point. Larian Studios—the developer of BG3—is an indie studio, which means that they do not have a sponsor or larger game publisher that they answer to. This means that although they are less funded than studios, they also have more creative freedom and control over their work. Indie studios like Larian have often been seen as the underdog in the gaming industry especially when compared to AAA studios such as Bethesda or Bioware, which are often subsidiaries of large game publishers like EA and are hence expected to produce higher quality games. However, due to the steady decline of quality from such AAA studios, gamers have begun looking to indie studios for the holy grail, with BG3’s success only adding to the buzz. But are they right to do so, or is there more nuance to this discussion? To determine whether BG3 is the herald of the indie studio uprising, we must first analyze why it was such a success. BG3 has been lauded for its complexity, amazing graphics, interesting combat, and replayability. Its long, intricate plot with multiple outcomes depending on the player’s decisions as well as its deep and dynamic characters are unheard of in video games, at least not to its extent. Larian Studios also actively engages with its community, responding to player feedback and continuing to publish major updates and patches that other game publishers might label as premium DLC (paid downloadable content). They are so responsive, in fact, that they even “re-shaved” a throwaway Sphynx cat in the game after some players complained about it being given fur in the latest update—a level of attention to detail many AAA studios and even other indie studios lack. This is in clear contrast to AAA titles such as Bethesda’s Starfield, which was heavily criticised by players upon release due to its uninteresting, repetitive gameplay and lack of optimisation, or The Sims 4, which continues to pump out expensive DLC packs for features many players argue the game should have included in the first place. So, are indie game studios the ultimate saviour of the gaming industry? Well, no. Larian Studios did not succeed with BG3 because they were an indie studio; rather, they succeeded due to their passion, receptivity to constructive criticism, and respect for their player base. BG3, just like many other games from all sorts of studios, launched with bugs and flaws; what truly set it apart from others, however, was its rapid adaptation to player feedback and lack of predatory monetization. The true lesson to be learned from the success of BG3 is that quality games produced by a passionate team that is open and willing to act on criticism should be the new standard.

Hamilton is one the most successful and popular Broadway musicals of the past decade. From professional critics to teenagers online, Lin-Manuel Miranda’s 2015 hit has impressed many and swept through the cultural landscape like a hurricane. One of its longest-lasting legacies is its obsessive fandom, whose controversies are considered outrageous, even for the generally divisive fandom culture. Yet, although outlandish at first glance, the Hamilton fandom’s deeds are not an altogether unfamiliar crime; in fact, they represent general fandom problems that have persisted and even gotten worse over the years. In particular, they symbolise issues within fandoms for real people such as celebrities, issues that have only increased in relevancy due to the increase in parasocial relationships to various internet influencers. Among the most infamous of the Hamilton fandom’s creative endeavours is the iconic “Miku Binder Thomas Jefferson” (henceforth MBTJ), a stylised drawing of Hamilton’s Thomas Jefferson as a college student. In this rendition, Thomas Jefferson is seen wearing a chest binder adorned with the face of Japanese virtual idol Hatsune Miku. Some of the information listed about him is that he is transgender and bisexual, which is presented alongside a litany of other quirky traits such as being a furry and being “obsessed with anime.” MBTJ represents the intersection of many problematic aspects of fandom culture, with the main issue being that of the appropriation and stereotyping of queer identities. Reimagining a fictional character as queer can often be helpful to queer fans, as it remedies the lack of representation and relatability in the source material. However, MBTJ makes this problematic for two reasons. First, it stereotypes queer identities by portraying the “trans and bi” Jefferson as quirky, nerdy, and flamboyant, a far cry from the original figure. By associating queerness with such drastic changes in character, the creator implies that that is the only way queerness can manifest. Second is the issue of forcing queer identities upon real, non-queer or potentially closeted people. Though the person in question is dead in this case and therefore cannot react, in other such cases, it has brought much harm to the people the fans claim to idolise. For example, YouTubers Dan Howell and Phil Lester were “shipped” together (i.e. imagined to be in a romantic relationship) by their collective fandom for a long time, which negatively impacted their actual friendship. They have later stated that it also made them hesitant to actually come out, as that may have exacerbated the problem. On a general note, many other influencers and celebrities have also explicitly stated that speculation on their sexualities makes them uncomfortable, especially when it is for shipping purposes, statements which many fans still tend to ignore. Despite there being more awareness of the problematic handling of queer identities by fandoms nowadays, these issues persist as newer and younger fandoms keep rising. MBTJ, though seemingly unparalleled in its wildness, is a symbol of a fairly common ignorance regarding basic boundaries and respect for both queer identities and real people in many fandoms. Fandoms will never stop being created; as such, we must take extra care to educate the uneducated, and learn from the apparent absurdities of past fandoms.

Anime as a storytelling medium has continued to gain popularity in recent times. The mainstream success of titles like Jujutsu Kaisen, Attack on Titan, and Demon Slayer has cemented the art form as a platform capable of portraying larger-than-life characters that are at once interesting and unique. And yet, as industry standards have risen to the point where choreographed action sequences and movie-like production value are the norm, animators have had to confront increasingly harsh working conditions. Preceding the release of Attack on Titan’s final season earlier last year, studio MAPPA (responsible for adapting the hit manga series) became the subject of heated criticism for its alleged overworking of animators. A tweet made by one of its employees, Teruyuki Omine, noting that he had remained at work for three days straight, spurred both sympathy and anger, as renewed attention was brought upon the exploitation of animators in Japan. This has not been the first time that MAPPA, or other well-known animation studios, have faced criticism over such issues. Part of the problem has been the willingness of studios to undertake numerous concurrent projects: large-scale adaptations set to release on a strict schedule, leaving animators worn out and unmotivated. Many have felt that working overtime has become a requirement—a stark consequence of the burgeoning anime industry and its expectations. While the anime industry has expanded to account for increasing demand and profitability, a report released by The New York Times shines further light on issues prevalent behind the scenes. Beyond strenuous working hours, many animators are forced to get by on less than sustainable wages, which at times can drop to $200 a month—far lower than the average pay in other countries such as the US, where animators are able to earn upwards of $65,000 per year. The anime industry’s lack of commensurate pay has been a practice reinforced by the perception that animators are expendable. So long as freelancers continue to enter the job market, large studios are able to divert their costs to maximize profit. But how long can the anime industry flourish while disregarding the needs of its core workforce? As Jun Sugawara, an advocate for the proper treatment of animators in Japan, states, new talent is likely to grow increasingly scarce as individuals turn to jobs outside of the industry in search of better working conditions. It is important to acknowledge that, in more ways than one, the success that the anime industry has enjoyed has come at the cost of animators’ livelihood and well-being. And although long working hours and tight deadlines have allowed for the frequent release of successful shows, there is a need for animation studios to dial back their expectations. Animators should be given leeway to work at a comfortable pace, rather than feel burdened to churn out results. For their own sake, as much as that of the animators, studios should strive to create an environment wherein employees feel happy and satisfied about the work they are producing—an environment that is both welcoming and conducive to long-term creativity, that allows animators to create their best work possible. If anime is to continue thriving as a medium while upholding current industry standards, we must ensure that those responsible for its production—the animators—see a future for themselves in the profession.

The topic of MBTI has now become an inevitable part of our daily conversations. It has become so prevalent that people ask for your MBTI the second after your name. From casual meet-ups to formal interviews, it seems as though this topic has fully seeped into society. While this trend may have not been identified yet in other countries, South Korea has been showing unprecedented attention to this specific idea of MBTI. MBTI stands for “Myers-Briggs Type Indicator”, a self-assessed test to determine one’s personality—or categorize oneself into one of 16 groups. As the test taker goes through a list of questions, they are classified into either option for a total of four categories. The first one determines extroversion (E) and introversion (I). The second is sensing (S) and intuition (N), then thinking (T) and feeling (F), and, lastly, judging (J) and perceiving (P). The combination of these eight letters into a four-letter “MBTI”, according to many, determines who you are. So, why are South Koreans so obsessed with this test, and why do they have an incessant desire to categorize their personality? The craving for a sense of belonging and affinity to a particular group is innate in human beings. As a result, such intriguing tests provide a chance for people to sympathize with and relate to those that are similar to them. While the surge in the popularity of MBTI is a recent phenomenon, these trends of categorizing people and making generalizations regarding a particular group have always existed. A famous example is the belief that blood types play a role in shaping one’s personality. Just a decade back, every South Korean was asking for each other’s blood types. If you have type O blood, then you act this way. If you have type A blood, you act that way. All these assumptions made about the relationship between personality and blood type have not been scientifically proven. Rather, science has repeatedly proven the opposite: there is simply no correlation between the two. While most people discussed blood types for fun, some took it to an extreme, religiously believing in false assumptions and enforcing generalizations onto other people. This phenomenon can also be identified in our contemporary society with MBTI. Of course, many use this test to know more about themselves. However, some force a vague characteristic of a specific MBTI onto others, even if they might not align with the descriptions at all. This is the point where the obsession with MBTI can get rather toxic and absurd. Not every tendency attributed to an MBTI type will apply to someone with that MBTI, and if this fact is not accepted, misunderstandings may arise. Furthermore, the MBTI test has become more accessible than ever: with a click of a button, anyone can take it. Nevertheless, it is important to note that this test is not professionally supervised, and in fact, is unreliable as it is only a self-assessment. The MBTI phenomenon has escalated to a point where people view this as a social obsession, as some companies are even asking for MBTIs during job interviews. This means important decisions, such as job placements, may be made solely based on one’s MBTI. This then leads to questions: Is there a chance that the concept of MBTI, which seems so innocuous, can have legitimate harmful social consequences or is it simply a mere fad that is an inevitable result of people’s desire for categorization?

As with any university publication, The SNU Quill perennially ponders the question of branding. What does it mean to exist as a university publication in an increasingly turbulent media landscape where both old and new forms of journalism struggle to maintain survival? With such questions in mind, the editorial staff unanimously voted for “The Boiling Point” as this edition’s theme. After all, we live in a world that is heavily politicized–to exist is to be a political entity. To open up a dialogue about these anxieties, The SNU Quill hosted two workshops for its 80th Edition members. The first workshop was hosted by Choe Sang-hun, the Seoul Bureau Chief at The New York Times and a renowned Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist, who won the award for his investigative reporting on the No Gun Ri massacre. This workshop was hosted in Jongno district, central Seoul, at 7 P.M. on 3 May, 2023, and largely operated as an open conversation between the Bureau Chief and the The SNU Quill journalists. In this workshop, The SNU Quill reporters were given a chance to ask Choe pertinent questions with respect to current media trends and the politicized media landscape. He obliged the numerous questions with detailed answers addressing the bureaucratic regulations of media landscapes, occupational stress, the subjection to scrutiny journalists face, the erasure of press freedom and many other topical concerns. In his closing remarks, Choe recommended the book The Universal Journalist by David Randall for novice journalists; The SNU Quill extends this recommendation to our readers. The second workshop was hosted by Cho Chung-un, Editor at the National Desk of The Korea Herald. This workshop was hosted on campus at 5 P.M. 17 Nov. 2023. During the event, Cho offered insights into the inner workings of The Korea Herald and the importance of staying motivated and incentivized as journalists. According to Cho, the most gratifying aspect of journalism is the ability to experience firsthand what others cannot. Cho divulged how the greatest motivating factor for her was her ability to intimately connect with the pressing issues facing Korean society through direct field reporting. Most importantly, Cho imparted a crucial piece of wisdom to The SNU Quill—the importance of focusing on giving our readers unique insights as SNU students.