In the ever-evolving landscape of global culture, South Korea’s influence continues to make waves — literally. The inclusion of seven Korean-derived words in the Oxford English Dictionary (OED) in January has sparked fascination and reflection. Among those additions are culinary delights such as dalgona (a Korean confection) and tteokbokki (spicy stir-fried rice cakes), kinship terms such as hyung (a boy’s or man’s older brother) and maknae (the youngest member of a family or group).
That phenomenon is not merely a linguistic curiosity; it is a testament to South Korea’s growing clout on the global stage. While transliteration of culture-specific terms is a common practice in cross-cultural communication, the adoption of kinship terms into English is particularly striking. After all, English already has words such as “stew” and “KTV,” yet jjigae (a Korean-style stew) and noraebang (a karaoke box) have found their way into the lexicon of the world’s most authoritative English dictionary.
That is not the first time Korean words have made headlines in the OED. In September 2021, the dictionary included 26 Korean-derived words, surpassing the total number of such words previously recorded. The OED even marked that milestone with an article titled “Daebak! The OED gets a K-update,” highlighting the rising international popularity of Korean pop culture across music, drama, film, fashion and food. The update also introduced kinship terms such as noona (a boy’s or man’s older sister), oppa (a girl’s or woman’s older brother) and unni (a girl’s or woman’s older sister).
To put that into perspective, imagine if Chinese kinship terms like ge (哥, older brother), jie (姐, older sister), shu (叔, uncle) or yi (姨, aunt) were to enter the English lexicon and become official OED entries. It might seem almost incredible, even ludicrous, at first glance, yet, that is what Korean has achieved.
The inclusion of those words reflects more than just linguistic borrowing; it underscores the soft power of South Korea’s cultural exports. Since the 1990s, the Korean wave, or hallyu, has been cultivated through a combination of national policy and creative innovation. From K-pop to K-dramas, Korean cuisine to fashion, the country’s cultural industry has grown into a global force, and the English language has mirrored that development.
Of course, English already boasts a far greater number of Chinese-derived words, many of which have been part of the lexicon for centuries. However, the recent surge of Korean terms into the OED is a reminder of the dynamic nature of cultural influence. It is not enough to have a rich and diverse cultural heritage; the ability to share it with the world in a way that resonates globally is equally important.
Our cultural depth and historical richness are undeniable. The challenge lies in creating the right conditions for our culture to flourish internationally. When that happens, the Korean wave might well be eclipsed. Words of Chinese origin would sprout like bamboo shoots after a spring rain, blurring the lines between Chinese and English.
The rise of Korean-derived words in English serves as an inspiration and a call to action. It reminds us that cultural influence is not just about preserving tradition, but also about innovation, adaptation and the ability to connect with a global audience.
As we celebrate the richness of our own heritage, let us also learn from the successes of others, ensuring that our culture not only endures, but thrives in the ever-changing tapestry of the world. The Korean wave is in full swing, but the tide of Chinese culture is yet to reach its peak. When it does, the world would take notice.
Hugo Tseng has a doctorate in linguistics, and is a lexicographer and former chair of the Soochow University English Department.
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