When AI-powered cameras on bridges over Seoul’s Han River raise the alarm that someone may be about to jump, acting quickly is vital.
The waterway is a landmark of the glittering South Korean capital, but also a frequent scene of despair in a country with one of the world’s highest suicide rates.
The artificial intelligence-driven surveillance system alerts first responders if someone lingers in certain locations, enters an area deemed unsafe or picks up one of the bridges’ dedicated suicide-prevention phones.
Photo: AFP
It has been strikingly effective, said Kim Jun-young, chief of the Hangang Bridge CCTV Integrated Control Center, with the rescue rate over the river rising to more than 99 percent from 56 percent in 2012.
Emergency crews can reach most bridges within five minutes — the critical window to intervene and save a life, he said.
“We see our role as giving them one more chance to think it over, because it may not be the decision you want,” Kim said.
Photo: AFP
From a height of about 30 meters, striking the water is akin to crashing a car at 60 kilometers per hour, he said.
Persuading people who have made up their minds is not easy, Kim said, as they often struggle with rescuers or sprint away “as if running a 100-meter race.”
Others can make a final, split-second decision when they hear approaching sirens, before help arrives.
Photo: AFP
Last year, nearly 900 cameras on 17 bridges identified more than 1,200 incidents, he said, but “about eight people” could not be saved.
‘GLOBAL ‘DISGRACE’
The Han River AI system has been operating since 2021, but South Korea remains gripped by a broader suicide crisis called “a disgrace on the world stage” by President Lee Jae-myung.
The suicide rate in 2024 climbed above 29 deaths per 100,000 people, the highest since 2011. It is the leading cause of death among people aged 10 to 49, government figures show.
Relentless academic pressure, heavy workloads and a culture that holds individuals responsible for failure can leave people ill-equipped to cope with life’s setbacks or seek help, said Yoo Jae-hyun, director of suicide prevention at Seoul St. Mary’s Hospital.
Many who have tried to end their lives told him “they feel they have become a burden to those around them, and that everyone else would be better off if they were gone”, Yoo said.
Koreans in their twenties account for the largest share of people treated in emergency rooms after suicide attempts, according to Yoo.
The 33-year-old cartoonist Smiling Stone Hwang now lives what she describes as a resilient life, after she was saved by first responders.
After losing her father to suicide in 2014, Hwang inherited his debts and endured years of lawsuits and asset seizures — leaving her unable to hold a bank account in her own name.
Throughout her 20s, she juggled multiple cash-paying jobs, often working grueling hours.
Suicide “didn’t feel like a particularly tragic choice. It felt like a rational one”, Hwang said.
“Being accepted for who I am” has helped since then, said Hwang.
‘BLINK OF AN EYE’
Many CCTV systems worldwide use some form of AI to help spot danger.
Japanese company Asilla says its AI surveillance system can detect unusual behavior, such as falls, or someone who might be preparing to jump from a height.
Its AI tool has been learning behavior patterns from cameras in public facilities such as shopping centers and stations.
In two separate incidents, it alerted guards to men standing on rooftops who were able to be talked down, chief product officer Yuka Suzuki said.
It is not meant to replace humans and cannot bring down Japan’s suicide rate — the highest in the G7 — alone, she stressed.
“It’s still often difficult to provide proper mental health support,” Suzuki said.
But it is significant “if we can reduce the number of incidents, even by a little, where people lose their lives in the blink of an eye.”
In Seoul, CCTV Control Center’s Kim recalled one case in which a young man was intercepted by the AI system and rescue workers, only to return later that day and suddenly make another attempt while smoking with a friend. Despite rescuers and a boat already being on the water, they were unable to save him.
Cartoonist Hwang’s late father, who had long struggled with alcohol addiction, was once a successful film producer with a passion for cinema.
Shortly before his death, he visited Hwang at the cafe where she worked, according to her cartoon-based memoir, I Am a Suicide Loss Survivor.
He brought her a gift, but the usually empty cafe was packed, and she never got to buy him a coffee.
For a time after his death, Hwang returned daily to leave a cup of coffee “at the cramped table where he never got to sit.”
“One he could never drink again, and one I could never brew for him again,” Hwang wrote.
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