China’s Panda Policy: The Contradictions of Panda Conservation
On March 2nd 2023, more than 2000 people stood in front of the Everland theme park—not to get into the park itself, but to bid farewell to the most beloved panda in Korea, Fu Bao, who was about to embark on her journey back to China. Pandas had initially been given out to other countries as gifts by China since the period of the Second World War, becoming a way to break the ice with the Western world after the establishment of the communist regime. This was later changed into a leasing policy due to the panda species becoming endangered, but the policy’s diplomatic and political purposes remained. Following this policy, should the leased pandas produce offspring, the offspring were to be returned to China eventually to maintain conservation efforts, and the leased pandas themselves must also return after 10 years. Yet, the ulterior motive of this “panda diplomacy” is not only to help protect the species, but also to maintain positive relations between China and the recipient countries, as pandas often bring tremendous economic gain such as in the case of Korea’s Fu Bao. Although these practices may appear as beneficial in all regards, including the conservation of pandas and the maintenance of their biodiversity, there are legitimate concerns about the commercialisation of pandas and the purity of China’s panda conservation efforts. Recipient entities like zoos must afford an annual leasing fee up to 1 million US dollars, while any cubs born in the foreign zoos can cost up to 400,000 US dollars to lease, making the leasing of pandas a huge money maker for China. When pandas are sent out under diplomatic action, they are inevitably treated as a tool for political gain, forced to become the so-called ‘Panda Diplomats,’ and then be relocated to an unfamiliar environment and thereby causing them immense stress. Furthermore, once the lease term ends, they will need to be uprooted once more from their habitat. The treatment they receive under the leasing terms is also questionable, potentially violating animal rights. The effectiveness of China’s panda leasing policy in helping conservation efforts is also debatable. According to an investigation done by the New York Times, there are more pandas being captured from the wild by the Chinese government compared to the number of pandas being released. Meanwhile, cubs born in the US and European zoos were never released into the wild. The investigation results revealed that pandas that were sent to the US have done little to help biodiversity, as China usually sends out pandas with genes that have been well represented in the population, which does not help much in panda population gene diversity. Based on an expert who has been working in the Chengdu breeding center under affiliation of a US zoo, she has witnessed the excessive use of the anesthesia on the pandas. The anesthesia is part of the process of the artificial insemination. Combining these with accusations regarding the inhumane treatment of the pandas, especially during artificial breeding, the original goal of promoting biodiversity and conserving the panda seems heavily distorted. Although it is impossible to remove the political aspect of ‘panda leasing’, its current state of over-commercialisation is undoubtedly unethical. The practice should be returned to its original purpose—conservation and the promotion of biodiversity—with the leased pandas acting not as Chinese or economic diplomats but as diplomats for the conservation effort and raising awareness for their species. Recipient countries and establishments that keep the pandas should focus on raising public awareness and educating people rather than investing heavily in commercial activities. The Chinese government should also take care to ensure the safety of their ‘panda diplomats’, correcting any errors and making corrective statements regarding rumors that can cause public concerns.
Thin is In
Dieting and weight loss has long been a hot topic in popular media—but now, more than ever, these topics are gaining immense traction. Social media platforms like YouTube, Instagram, and TikTok are saturated with content promoting thin bodies and offering detailed instructions for achieving and maintaining them. Whether it is through restrictive diet plans or intensive workout routines, this obsession over thinness is accompanied by celebrities and influencers whose images dominate our feeds, significantly impacting the public’s body image. These influencers are always pushing trendy diet plans and workout routines, which consistently garner massive amounts of engagement. While such content might seem harmless—after all, what is wrong with admiring a fit body?—the impact runs deeper. Body image is not formed in isolation, nor is it a one-way street. It is a product of an interactive relationship between those displayed in the media and the audience consuming it, producing a vicious cycle. The issue is especially visible in Korea and its prominent media industry. K-Pop idols with their unrealistically thin bodies are propped up as the standard, and they often share extreme dieting tips and workout regimens. Yet, these same celebrities are also seen promoting high-calorie and unhealthy junk foods like fried chicken and pizza through advertisements. These advertisements send mixed messages: on one hand, they glamorize such indulgent foods by associating them with celebrities. On the other hand, they imply that maintaining a slim figure is unrelated to one’s diet, suggesting that thinness is only a matter of self-discipline, exercise, or even genetics. Thus, they confuse the public, encouraging people to feel shame for both not having the self-discipline to maintain a skinny body and not being born “naturally thin”. Thinness is a highly idolized bodily trait not only in Korea but also globally, with the media playing a crucial role in cementing this obsession. Obesity, on the contrary, is subjected to hate and considered a public health crisis. Although morbid obesity can be detrimental to one’s health, so can extreme thinness. Yet only one end of the spectrum has this widespread negative perception. However, even this perception of obesity is less than a century old. For much of human history, plumpness symbolized wealth, fertility, and health. In times of scarcity, a well-fed body was a sign of success and the corpulence and increased flesh were desirable, as reflected in art, literature, and medical opinion of the times. This shift is not just about health. Pierre Bourdieu’s concept of distinction explains how body weight became a marker of class and morality. In this framework, thinness signifies self-control, discipline, and access to resources like gym membership and organic foods, while obesity is often unfairly associated with laziness, poverty, and poor habits. These opposing traits are directly reflected in how the media portrays people and reproduces this stereotype. Anthropologist Anne Becker's 1998 study in Fiji proves this trend. The study, conducted in a rural town which had only recently been introduced to television, found that the rates of body dissatisfaction amongst adolescent females increased strikingly compared to before western media influence. In addition, the obsession with body image often intersects with gender and generational dynamics. Viral trends like the “girl dinner” meme—where tiny portions of low-calorie foods are presented as a complete meal—highlight the disproportionate pressure on women to eat sparingly. This meme, which started out as a joke about not having the energy to prepare a full meal and thus scraping together whatever leftovers are in the fridge to satiate one’s hunger, evolved into what portrays a hegemonic expectation women keep being pushed into. Contrast this with older generations, where grandmothers and mothers often encourage larger portions with phrases like “Eat more!” This generational divide reflects broader societal changes. While older generations view food abundance as a marker of prosperity, modern media glorifies controlled, minimalist eating as a sign of sophistication and beauty. The glorification of thinness, while often marketed as a pursuit of health, has deeper consequences. It perpetuates narrow definitions of beauty, stigmatizes alternative body types, and fosters an environment where people feel pressured to conform. To break free from this cycle, we must critically examine the media we consume. Who benefits from these ideals? How can we create a culture that celebrates diverse body types instead of idolizing one narrow standard? Thinness may be “in”, but at what cost?
Reaching the Finish Line: What Comes Next?
As high school graduation looms near, every student faces that inevitable period of uncertainty, when the weight of a seemingly life-defining decision hangs over them: What career path should I choose? For most, it's a daunting but normal part of growing up, and this decision is often not an ultimatum. However, for most student-athletes, this decision is much more difficult, proving both promising and risky—and more impactful due to its binding nature. For athletes like Lim Se-Eun who have familial support, these decisions come easier. At just 18, Lim had already achieved remarkable milestones, including a bronze medal in the Asian Games. Her dedication earned her an athletics scholarship, allowing her to major in Physical Education at university. Balancing the dual demands of academics and competition, she represented both her university and the national team for a year. However, the pressure became unsustainable, forcing her to retire from elite sports. Lim then redirected her focus toward academics and began exploring opportunities beyond athletics. Lim’s story highlights a systemic issue in Korea's approach to sports education. In the pursuit of excellence, the system prioritizes athletic development over academic growth, leaving many athletes ill-prepared for life after sports. Lim's decision to step away from her athletic career reflects the strain of this imbalance. Despite these challenges, Korea has achieved remarkable success in international sports, showcasing its commitment to elite athlete development. Yet, this raises an important question: Must academic growth be sacrificed for competitive excellence?A comparison with the United States offers valuable insight. American universities, under the National Collegiate Athletic Association (NCAA), prioritize balancing sports and education. Athletes receive scholarships to compete while pursuing diverse academic majors. Universities provide tutors, mental health resources, and structured support to help student-athletes effectively manage their dual roles. Beyond competition, the NCAA offers over $10 million in annual scholarships for graduate studies, emphasizing the importance of preparing athletes for life after sports. These strategies, along with policy changes over the years, have established a solid system in which Division I student-athletes in the United States have achieved a record-high 91% on NCAA Graduation Success Rate. This showcases long-term improvements across all sports and the success of academic reforms and support initiatives. Furthermore, the American collegiate athletic system has significantly contributed to Team USA’s Olympic success; according to the U. S. Olympic & Paralympic Committee, 75% of the olympians competing in Paris 2024 have collegiate experience across all NCAA divisions, junior colleges, NAIA school, and club programs. Such support systems are largely absent in Korea, limiting opportunities for student-athletes like Lim and others. Lee Joon-Hyuk, a former rugby athlete, echoes these concerns. After being admitted to Seoul National University’s Physical Education program, Lee chose to keep rugby as a hobby, fulfilling his childhood dream of representing the university. Looking ahead, he is exploring a potential career in marketing. Reflecting on his journey, he shares:“As a student-athlete, I had diverse experiences. From teamwork to mental resilience, my training shaped me. However, the intense focus on athletics made transitioning to other fields challenging. ”While Lee acknowledges the systemic challenges, he offers advice to aspiring athletes: “Do what you want, and once you decide, go for it with no regrets!” Lim, who briefly studied in the U. S. , has a broader perspective. “When I went to the United States, I realized being an athlete was just one chapter of my life. Study hard, because sports aren’t your entire life. Believe in yourself—there are so many fields you can pursue. ” She emphasizes the need for Korea to adopt reforms like career counseling and tutoring for athletes. Every country has its priorities and limitations. While Korea excels in preparing athletes for international competitions, it must strive to balance athletic and academic development. Student-athletes deserve access to quality education, ensuring a solid foundation for life beyond sports. Both Lim and Lee reflect on their journeys with no regrets. Lim concludes:"I’d make the same choices again. Those experiences shaped me, allowing me to dream bigger and embrace life beyond sports. " Lee shares a similar sentiment: "I’d still choose rugby—it’s what brought me here and remains a part of who I am. " Their stories highlight the resilience of student-athletes, but also underscore the importance of a system that allows them to thrive both on and off the field.
