[Reporter’s Notebook] Dereliction of Duty Hidden Behind 'Innovation'... Ministry of Education’s Negligence Triggers Chain Closures of Regional Universities

An Elegant Slaughterhouse Disguised as 'Innovation': Glocal and RISE
The Ministry of Education Hides Behind the Market, School Closures Fueled by Neglected Corruption
The Full Burden of Liquidation Falls on Students and Local Communities

The chilling rumor circulating among university students that "universities will close in the order of cherry blossoms blooming" has now become a devastating reality, no longer just a metaphor.

Starting with the simultaneous closures of Myungshin University and Sunghwa College in 2012, followed by Seonam University in 2018, Dongbusan College in 2020, Hanlyeo University in 2022, and most recently, Gwangyang Health College—the only institution of higher education in Gwangyang—each has ultimately met the same tragic end.

As regional universities are pushed to the brink of collapse, the Ministry of Education is positioning projects like the "Glocal University 30" program and the "Regional Innovation-led University Support System (RISE)" as saviors, enticing institutions with budgets worth hundreds of billions of won.

Joonkyung Lee, Head of Honam Reporting Bureau

The government presents these grandly named policies as "innovations for the co-growth of regions and universities." However, a closer look at the universities that have recently closed or are on the verge of closure reveals that the blame for this tragedy does not rest solely on the declining school-age population or the Ministry of Education’s planning mistakes.

Even while teetering on the edge, chronic corruption and moral hazard among private regional educational foundations have provided the Ministry with the perfect justification for its restructuring initiatives.

Forced Restructuring Disguised as 'Autonomous Innovation'... Tuition Funds as Private Coffers, The Downfall Formula of Private Universities

One of the key requirements of the Glocal University project is "integration" and "enrollment reduction." For survival, universities must shrink themselves and merge with others to earn evaluation points. The Ministry of Education claims that this is a "voluntary choice" for universities, but for regional schools that would have to close their doors the very next day if funding dries up, this is closer to coercion than choice.

In the 1990s, the Ministry of Education indiscriminately approved university establishments, fueling poor standards; then, in the 2010s, it forcibly closed schools through evaluation rankings, facing fierce criticism for what was called "government-led cuts."

Now, the approach has become more subtle. With large grants in hand, the Ministry is inducing universities to devour each other or to voluntarily reduce enrollment. No longer is the Ministry itself bloodied by these actions; instead, it is the universities, driven into survival-of-the-fittest competition, that are forced to do it themselves.

A look into how regional private universities have collapsed reveals that the chronic ecosystem of corruption was not limited to a few foundations, but endemic across the sector. Even as universities reached the brink of closure, foundations were preoccupied with "protecting their own interests" and "systematic wrongdoing" rather than "saving the school."

Myungshin University in Suncheon and Sunghwa College in Gangjin, which were both expelled in 2012, were a showcase of private university corruption. At Myungshin, the founders’ family embezzled billions of won in tuition funds, awarded grades to absent students, and forged transcripts, handing out diplomas indiscriminately. At Sunghwa College, the founder embezzled about 6 billion won in tuition funds, and even forced faculty to return their salaries as so-called "donations."

This inertia of corruption has continued up to the present day. Dongbusan College went bankrupt due to embezzlement amounting to billions of won by the foundation chair and president. Gwangyang Health College and Hanlyeo University were both branded as "universities subject to financial support restrictions" following the founders’ embezzlement of more than 100 billion won.

Over the past 20 years, more than 70% of universities that have gone through the closure process have been brought down by corruption within their private foundations. Tuition funds that should have been used to educate students were diverted to real estate speculation or slush funds for the founders’ families, and delayed wage payments to faculty and staff became routine. In the face of the massive wave of declining school-age population, the greed of private university operators completely eroded the institutions’ basic resilience.

The Ministry of Education's 'Passing the Buck' Behind Market Logic... The Cost of Liquidation Falls on Students and Local Communities

The problem is that the Ministry of Education’s "selection and concentration" market logic, designed to weed out corrupt private universities, is now also pushing normal regional universities into the quagmire of "elimination."

The Ministry’s resolve to root out corruption in private universities is also near failing. There is a long list of private universities that have never undergone a comprehensive audit, and for 30 years, the Ministry’s response has been to take belated remedial action only after scandals break out—a practice stuck in place for decades.

If a school is shut down forcibly, the Ministry faces accusations of mismanagement. But if it allows corruption to fester until a university collapses on its own, it can easily deflect criticism by blaming the declining school-age population or the universities themselves. Ultimately, the RISE and Glocal policies are nothing more than sophisticated devices for the Ministry of Education to hide its own responsibility and the corruption of private foundations behind the filter of "market competition."

While the government touts innovation and private foundations survive through corruption, the harsh consequences of school closures have always fallen on the most vulnerable. Students have lost their alma maters overnight and were scattered, while the void left by embezzled tuition funds was passed onto them through outdated laboratory equipment and substandard lectures.

Faculty and staff, with several years of unpaid wages, have been forced to take on menial jobs. Moreover, when a university collapses, it sets off a domino effect—local businesses falter, young people leave, and the regional economy crumbles. After Namwon, Gangjin, and Suncheon, Gwangyang too has been forced to bear this inescapable cost of liquidation.

When stripped of its glamorous wrapping, the Ministry of Education’s irresponsibility and the moral decay of regional private universities are strikingly similar. The architects of this broken system are busy drawing up new evaluation metrics in Seoul, while the well-fed university executives have cut their losses and walked away. No one listens to the desperate cries of the local communities left behind.

The clock for the next university to be added to the closure list is still ticking, caught between corruption and neglect, even at this very moment.

This content was produced with the assistance of AI translation services.