What President Lee Jae Myung is missing: Humility and restraint

Columns A columnist argues that Lee Jae Myung's falling approval reflects concerns over his governing style, restraint and response to criticism. President Lee Jae Myung speaks during the 38th Cabinet meeting of 2026 at the Blue House in Seoul on Sept. 1. JOINT PRESS CORPS Koh Hyun-kohn The author is the chief editorial writer at the JoongAng Ilbo. Early in his presidency, the consensus was that President Lee Jae Myung was doing better than expected. Everything seemed to go his way. His approval rating hovered around 60 percent. With the People Power Party under Jang Dong-hyeok in disarray, people joked that Lee was blessed with his opposition. Then came an unexpected defeat in the June local elections. The administration had overlooked a growing desire to check its dominance. Public sentiment, as always, found its balance. The Democratic Party (DP) then split into pro-Lee and anti-Lee camps over its leadership election, while turmoil in stocks and real estate followed. Lee's approval rating plunged to a record-low 37.4 percent in Realmeter's first September poll. Replacing a few familiar faces will not solve the problem. The source of the crisis is the president himself. Beyond policy, his governing style is at issue. First, Lee rarely appears willing to concede or sacrifice, particularly when his own interests or powers are involved. Having gained everything, he should sometimes give something up or accept a loss. That generosity is hard to see. Power is most persuasive when its holder shows that restraint is a choice, not a concession forced by political pressure, declining popularity or fear of electoral defeat alone. The DP's push to withdraw indictments in Lee's cases is embarrassing. A bill empowering a special counsel to drop allegedly fabricated prosecutions is controversial even within the DP. Lee then nominated Rep. Kim Seung-won, a leading advocate of dropping the charges, as justice minister, producing another personnel debacle. It is fair to ask whether a country preoccupied with legislation for one individual can call itself just. The confrontation with the chief justice is similarly troubling. Under legislation expanding the Supreme Court, Lee will appoint 22 of its 26 justices during his term. Does he not already wield enough influence? The constitutional amendment debate is also unsettling. Lee could simply declare that he will not seek another four-year term. The Blue House's claim that such a statement would only intensify controversy is unconvincing. Nor does it make sense to concentrate powers in the police while dismantling the prosecution, then say police problems are nothing new. More citizens suspect private motives, including resolving Lee's judicial risks, are seeping into state affairs. The sale of Lee's Bundang apartment was also regrettable. Using an unusual mortgage arrangement was legal but hardly common. With the public sensitive about housing, a president should have been exceptionally careful. He happened to sell it for a 2.5 billion won ($1.9 million) profit before proposing higher capital gains taxes, inviting unnecessary speculation. Second, Lee seems better at rebutting criticism than apologizing. When ministries clashed over exemptions from the 52-hour workweek, he called demands for a coordinated government position "closed-door administration." It would have inspired more confidence simply to acknowledge the confusion and say the government was seeking the best solution. The controversial tax reform was similar. Lee said public opinion could be incorporated after the government announced its proposal during the legislative notice period. That is procedurally true. But tax packages are rarely revised in so many places after announcement. The original proposal had serious flaws, yet there was no expression of regret for the anxiety and confusion caused by an underdeveloped policy. Third, despite talk of communicative leadership, only Lee seems visible. He speaks freely as though he knows everything while aides and ministers scramble to take notes. The atmosphere hardly encourages candid advice or debate. His jokes can be uncomfortable. He told the deputy prime minister for economic affairs that changing taxes inevitably draws abuse, so he should "crawl around no matter what." That hardly preserved the dignity of the country's top economic policymaker. Lee's one-way messages are also becoming sharper. He dismissed those worried about deteriorating public finances as "strange people" and portrayed the Korea Military Academy almost as a breeding ground for coups. His habit of lecturing or publicly rebuking others can seem satisfying once or twice. Hearing it daily on television and X is different. People may remain silent when the country's most powerful figure humiliates them because they fear his authority. But each such episode risks alienating the public. Lee now needs the composure and dignity expected of a president, respect and tolerance for those who disagree with him and, above all, more humility and restraint in his words. This article was originally written in Korean and translated by a bilingual reporter with the help of generative AI tools. It was then edited by a native English-speaking editor. All AI-assisted translations are reviewed and refined by our newsroom.