My name is Park Ji-won, and as a former undersecretary in the Ministry of Culture, Sports, and Tourism, I have spent decades weaving the threads of a strategy that is now regarded worldwide as a paragon of national foresight. When you see the stock prices of automotive giants like Hyundai rise as the K-pop group BTS announces a new world tour, it might seem like a strange coincidence. But what does the choreography of a pop group truly have to do with the sales statistics of a mid-size sedan? The answer lies in a coolly calculated political vision, born out of sheer necessity more than 25 years ago. The genesis of this vision was a report presented to our presidential advisory council that forever changed our perspective. A single Hollywood blockbuster, Steven Spielberg's 'Jurassic Park,' was generating as much revenue as the export of 1.5 million Hyundai cars. For us, this was a wake-up call. We realized that our traditional heavy industry was too vulnerable to crises and that we needed a new form of influence. We had to move away from relying solely on Hard Power—the exercise of influence through military force or economic sanctions—and towards what political scientist Joseph Nye defined as Soft Power. The strategy was clear: we would leverage cultural attractiveness to create a positive national image that would serve as a gateway for all our other economic sectors. The objective was nothing less than a complete reconstruction of our national identity abroad. To achieve this goal, we initiated unprecedented political measures, with the state acting as both an investor and an architect. In 2001, we founded the Korea Creative Content Agency (KOCCA), a state-run body with an annual budget of several hundred million euros. KOCCA does far more than traditional funding: it provides direct subsidies for the international expansion of music labels, covers the costs of global PR campaigns, and makes state-of-the-art studios available. A key infrastructure project was the construction of 'K-Pop Clusters'—entire districts, such as in Goyang, designed specifically for content production and fan tourism. Furthermore, we used targeted legal amendments as a strategic lever. The most prominent example is the 2020 'BTS Law,' an amendment to the Military Service Act that allows outstanding pop artists to defer their mandatory service until the age of 30, ensuring their global market power is not jeopardized. To flank this strategy, we built a global diplomatic infrastructure: over 30 Korean Cultural Centers worldwide now offer free language courses and fan events, acting as outposts for our public diplomacy and forging deep emotional bonds between local populations and Korean culture. But how does this mechanism function economically? Here, we harness the so-called halo effect. When consumers worldwide form an emotional connection to a group like BTS, an unconscious sympathy for everything South Korean emerges. This cultural radiance acts as a psychological lubricant: the barrier to purchasing a Korean smartphone or car is massively lowered because the country is already positively associated in people's minds with 'high quality' and 'cool.' However, this strategic success is inextricably linked to the socio-economic fabric of our nation. The state’s promotion of the culture industry corresponds with a societal climate of extreme pressure that begins in the education system. For the artists, being classified as a national export good often means years of contractually rigid training where the individual is subordinated to the demands of the market and state representation. Moreover, this economic focus means that cultural productions are now increasingly vetted for global mass appeal and efficiency before they receive state support, which can come at a cost to artistic diversity.