Korean football needs a system, not a star coach

Chung Un-chan

The author, a former president of Seoul National University and former prime minister, is the chairman of the Korea Institute for Shared Growth.

As the curtain fell on the FIFA World Cup 2026 in North America after captivating fans around the world, it was difficult to watch the state of Korean football without a sense of bitterness. The national team’s disappointing results and listless performances were troubling enough. More painful, however, was the process that produced them. The problem lies not in the human error of a few individuals but in the institutional failures that have long plagued the Korea Football Association (KFA).

I am no football expert. Still, as an educator, I would like to offer my own diagnosis of this debacle and suggest a path forward.

The KFA’s gravest problem is its loss of procedural legitimacy. The association has formally established decision-making bodies such as the National Team Strengthening Committee, yet those institutions were effectively sidelined when it came to the crucial process of appointing a head coach. When major decisions are made behind closed doors by a small group and rules are interpreted arbitrarily, even the finest institutions lose their vitality. Organizations that allow power to bypass procedure inevitably lose public trust and their sense of direction.

The success of Japan, whose disciplined and cohesive football drew widespread praise at this World Cup, is no accident. When the J.League was launched in 1993, the Japan Football Association (JFA) unveiled its Hundred-Year Vision. Moving beyond an elite sports culture fixated on immediate victories, the JFA embraced the philosophy of creating vibrant local communities through sports and treated football as a public good rooted in everyday life.

In 2005, the association expanded that vision through the JFA Declaration, announcing its ambitious goals of building a football community of 10 million people and winning the World Cup by 2050. What once seemed like an unrealistic dream was translated into a concrete strategy known as “Japan’s Way.” The JFA guaranteed the independence of its technical committee and established scouting outposts in Europe to accumulate tactical expertise and data. The association’s ability to entrust coach Hajime Moriyasu with an unprecedented eight years at the helm reflects the strength of that system.

Germany’s “Das Reboot” project offers an even more profound lesson. After suffering the humiliation of finishing last in its group at Euro 2000 with one draw and two losses, Germany was mocked as a rusting football machine. Yet the German Football Association did not settle for the cosmetic solution of changing managers.

Instead, it required all 36 clubs in the top two divisions of the Bundesliga to operate youth academies as a condition for receiving professional licenses. More than 300 training centers were established nationwide to manage data on young prospects, while regulations mandated that a portion of football revenues be reinvested in youth development. Fourteen years later, the generation raised by that system lifted the World Cup trophy in Brazil in 2014.

The reforms undertaken by Japan and Germany shared one essential feature: Both abandoned an obsession with short-term results and concentrated on the healthy development of young players. That philosophy closely resembles the Korean educational principle of harmony among physical strength, character and intellect.

Unfortunately, Korean football has moved in the opposite direction. The national team’s fixation on immediate success and the harsh environment of youth football, where children are pressured to win at all costs, mirror an education system dominated by entrance examinations.

For decades, Korea has lived with distorted priorities. Education has elevated intellectual achievement above all else, treating moral character and physical development as secondary concerns. Yet humanity now stands at the threshold of an era in which AI challenges even human intellectual capacities. We must return to the fundamentals and restore a holistic vision of education built on physical health, ethical character and knowledge.

In that sense, reforming the KFA cannot be reduced to a short-term strategy aimed at the next World Cup. Korea must dismantle the closed cartel that treats football as the preserve of a privileged few. The concentration of power in the hands of a single president must give way to governance that guarantees the independence of technical and national team committees.

Transparent administration and financial resources should no longer be disproportionately directed toward the senior national team. They must also support modern coaching programs and youth development. Above all, Korean football must shift from dependence on individuals to a culture governed by principles and institutions.

Miracles do not descend from the sky overnight. They bloom only in fertile soil. Korea cannot continue to rely on distant memories of its run to the semifinals of the 2002 World Cup and search endlessly for the next Guus Hiddink.

What Korean football needs today is not a celebrated tactician but the restoration of a rational system grounded in the values of physical strength, character and intellect, from youth academies to the national team. Painful reform must begin now. Otherwise, four years from today, Koreans may find themselves once again watching others celebrate while wondering what went wrong.