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Students’ Performance in English: Effects of Teachers’ Leadership Behavior and Students’ Motivation
A research paper published in a Scopus-indexed journal
Massuline Antonio D. Ligaya and Marie Charmaine P. Igwe
Journal of Education and Learning (EduLearn), Vol. 19, No. 1, February 2025, pp. 91–102
DOI: 10.11591/edulearn.v19i1.21680
Research Summary
Teachers do more than deliver instruction; they also exercise leadership in guiding, motivating, and managing students throughout the learning process. In foreign-language education, this leadership role may be particularly important because successful language learning requires active student participation and sustained motivation. This study investigated how English teachers’ leadership behavior relates to students’ performance in English and examined whether students’ instrumental and integrative motivation mediate that relationship.
Teacher leadership was examined through two dimensions derived from the Leadership Behavior Description Questionnaire (LBDQ): initiating structure, which emphasizes task organization and goal attainment, and consideration, which emphasizes interpersonal relationships, respect, trust, and concern for students. Motivation toward learning English was examined through instrumental motivation, in which the language is learned for practical or external benefits, and integrative motivation, associated with interest in communicating with and understanding people from other linguistic and cultural backgrounds.
The study employed a descriptive survey design involving 911 university students in South Korea who were enrolled in mandatory English courses across different academic departments. Students evaluated their teachers’ leadership behavior and their own motivation toward learning English. Leadership items were drawn from the LBDQ, while motivation measures were adapted from Gardner’s Attitude/Motivation Test Battery (AMTB). Students’ English performance was assessed using a 25-item grammar proficiency test covering vocabulary, correct grammatical form, answering questions, combining sentences, and word sequencing. Data were analyzed using descriptive statistics, correlation and regression analyses, and parallel mediation analysis using Hayes’ PROCESS procedure.
Students perceived their English teachers as demonstrating high levels of both leadership behaviors, although consideration was more strongly manifested than initiating structure. The mean for initiating structure was 4.06, while the pattern of responses for consideration showed that nearly 88% of students rated their teachers high or very high on this dimension. Students also reported high levels of both forms of motivation, with integrative motivation (M = 3.96) exceeding instrumental motivation (M = 3.55).
Performance on the English test was generally satisfactory. Of the 911 students, 542 obtained scores of 12 or higher, while 369 scored 11 or below. Analysis of specific areas showed that students were proficient in vocabulary, correct grammatical form, and answering questions but only moderately proficient in combining sentences and word sequencing.
Correlation analyses showed that both initiating structure and consideration were positively related to students’ instrumental and integrative motivation and to English performance. Integrative motivation was also positively and significantly correlated with English performance, whereas instrumental motivation was not significantly correlated with performance at the bivariate level.
The regression and mediation analyses revealed a more differentiated pattern. When the two leadership dimensions were considered simultaneously, consideration—but not initiating structure—significantly predicted students’ English performance. Consideration also significantly predicted both instrumental and integrative motivation. When leadership behavior and both forms of motivation were entered together, consideration and integrative motivation had positive significant coefficients, whereas instrumental motivation had a significant negative coefficient.
Most importantly, the mediation analysis showed that neither instrumental nor integrative motivation significantly mediated the relationship between initiating structure and English performance. In contrast, both forms of motivation significantly mediated the relationship between consideration and students’ English performance. The direct effect of consideration remained significant after the mediators were included, indicating partial rather than complete mediation.
Overall, the findings emphasize the potential importance of the relational dimension of teacher leadership in language learning. Students may benefit when English teachers combine pedagogical competence with leadership behaviors characterized by rapport, respect, accessibility, and concern for students. The findings further suggest that students’ reasons for learning English form part of the pathway through which this people-oriented leadership behavior relates to their academic performance.
Research Contribution
The study contributes to research on teacher leadership and second/foreign-language learning by integrating teacher leadership behavior, student motivation, and measured English performance within a mediation framework. Rather than examining teacher and learner variables independently, it investigates a possible mechanism linking them: teacher leadership → student motivation → English performance. Its finding that consideration, rather than initiating structure, was associated with performance through both instrumental and integrative motivational pathways highlights the potential importance of relationship-oriented teacher leadership in the foreign-language classroom. The study also provides a foundation for further research examining how teacher behavior and different forms of learner motivation jointly contribute to English-language achievement.
Keywords: teacher leadership, consideration, initiating structure, instrumental motivation, integrative motivation, English performance, mediation, South Korea
Full Text
The full text of this publication is available upon request. Researchers, educators, students, and other interested readers who wish to obtain a copy may contact the author through this website or by email at madligaya@gmail.com.
Grace In A Foreign Land
Today, I begin my 14th year here in South Korea.
Fourteen years ago, I boarded a plane carrying more than luggage. I carried questions. I carried fear. I carried unfinished conversations with the people I loved. And yet, above all, I carried conviction — the kind that whispers, Go. There is more waiting for you.
Time has a way of softening distances and turning foreign places into familiar ground. What was once unknown has become part of my story. What once felt like exile became expansion. And in all these years, I have come to understand that certain decisions do not merely change your address — they change your direction.
South Korea did not simply become my workplace; it became a refining ground. Here, I grew not only as an educator but as a thinker, a writer, and a man of faith. The classrooms sharpened my discipline. The solitude deepened my introspection. The unfamiliar culture stretched my perspective. This land became the platform on which I learned to rebuild, rediscover my purpose, and pursue excellence beyond the limits of my former comfort zone.
I thank the Lord for sustaining me through every season — through doubt, through growth, through silent battles no one else saw. And I thank this country for serving as the backdrop to one of the most defining chapters of my life.
But every long journey has a beginning. Every transformation has a first trembling step.
And mine began with a single day — a day marked by cold air, empty rooms, unanswered calls, unexpected kindness, and a faith that refused to collapse.
That first day in South Korea is something I will never forget.
It was in the early dawn of March 2, 2013 when I left the Philippines aboard Asiana Airlines. Around eight in the morning, the plane landed at Busan International Airport. At that time, Mr. Kenn Lachenal was with me. We were both headed to South Korea to teach English at Gyeongju University.
I admit that during that time, I was overwhelmed — not because of drugs, but because of the many thoughts about my loved ones and the anxiety over the new challenge I had chosen to face.
It was against my will to leave my loved ones behind, but it was necessary. I also did not want to step away from the school I had served as Principal for almost a year. Yet I have always refused to be ruled by my emotions. I did not want to avoid a decision simply because I surrendered to feelings. I carefully thought through my decision to go to South Korea to teach. It was not impulsive. It was part of my plans — a long-considered intention whose time had finally come. I would not allow my emotions to stop me.
It was not the desire for a higher salary that drove me abroad. I was already earning well as a principal. On top of that, I was working as an academic consultant at a technical school and as a part-time college instructor. Financially, I was stable. I had even built a house. The problem was this — I was no longer comfortable in my comfort zone.
I had grown weary of supervising teachers and employees. It felt stagnant — no longer challenging. Something was missing — something I longed to find. Personal issues that needed resolution did not help either. It became clear to me that I needed a radical change in my life if I wanted to preserve my sanity. I had to go somewhere new for a fresh beginning.
I felt as though I was at a dead end — yet I knew there was a world beyond dead ends. That was the world I wanted to reach… to explore.
As Jake Sully, the main character in Avatar, once said, “Sometimes your whole life boils down to one insane move.” Like Jake, though I felt fear, I was certain of my decision before I jumped to wrestle and tame my own “Toruk.”
I brought only two things with me to South Korea — self-confidence and faith in God. That combination has always been my shield against trials and my hook for reaching whatever I aspire to achieve.
I was not seeking luck in this country; I do not believe in luck. I believe that “God gives mercy, but man must act.” My purpose was to write a new chapter of my life here — a new phase in the destiny I believe I must draw for myself.
It was my first time traveling abroad, and I was fortunate to be with Mr. Lachenal. Aside from being helpful, he was experienced in overseas travel. Since we were both headed to Gyeongju University, I was confident I would not get lost.
When we arrived at Busan International Airport, I was shocked by the cold. It pierced through my jacket. I had assumed that since winter had ended and spring was beginning, the weather would be like Baguio. Thankfully, the bus we took to Gyeongju-si had its heater running. Though I was sleepy, I could not fall asleep during the ride. I kept looking at every place we passed. I said to myself, “Here I am in South Korea.”
After nearly two hours, we arrived in Gyeongju-si. Mr. Mark Celis welcomed us. He brought us to the apartments where we would stay — Mr. Lachenal to the “white house,” and me to the “blue house.” Not the White House of Washington D.C., nor any political residence in Seoul — those were simply the names given to the apartments provided by Gyeongju University for foreign professors. They were named after their paint colors. There was also a “yellow house” and a “green house.”
Before leaving, Mr. Celis ensured that my unit was in order and introduced me to another Filipino professor at Gyeongju University — Dr. Randy Tolentino, who also lived in the “blue house.”
When I entered my room, I felt for the first time what it truly meant to be alone — far from loved ones, in an unfamiliar place. I simply stood there, unsure of what to do first.
After regaining composure, I opened my suitcase and slowly arranged my belongings.
The surroundings were silent. I heard nothing but my own footsteps. I could even hear my heartbeat and the sound of my swallowing. After arranging my clothes and things, I suddenly felt the intense cold again — and hunger. The refrigerator was empty. There was a gas stove, but nothing to cook. I made do with the biscuits I had brought from the Philippines.
Then I remembered I needed to call my loved ones to inform them I had arrived safely. When I reached for my cellphone, I realized I had not activated roaming on my SIM card. I felt foolish. I cursed under my breath. I could not call anyone; my phone was nothing more than a music player.
I admit that at that moment, deep sadness overwhelmed me. I was still hungry despite finishing almost all my biscuits. I was shivering from the cold. The silence felt deafening. I was alone, with no one to talk to. I also worried that my loved ones were already anxious, waiting for news from me.
In that moment, I understood the true meaning of HOMESICKNESS — just hours after landing in South Korea.
But amid that sadness, I looked up to heaven and remembered that I had prayed many times for the chance to come to this country. I do not know why, but as far as I know, He has never ignored my prayers. I even wrote a poem about it in English — seven syllables only:
He answers.
Just wait.
Have faith!
I was about to lie down to drown my hunger and sadness in sleep when I heard knocks at my door. It was Randy.
He came in and talked with me. He was from Iloilo. At least I had someone to speak with now. While we talked, he looked at my stove and showed me how to operate it. He must have noticed I was cold, because he also taught me how to use the floor heater. I felt somewhat relieved by his help. He opened the kitchen drawers and found a few cans of food left behind by the previous tenant. He left briefly and returned with packs of noodles and some 3-in-1 coffee.
I was surprised by the generosity Randy showed, whom I would later call Sir Randy. It was as though he had known me for years. He stepped out again and returned, saying, “Come on, bro, my girlfriend has cooked. Let’s eat.”
I followed him to his unit. I was surprised, but I did not hesitate — not because I was desperately hungry, but because I felt the sincerity of his invitation. It would have been embarrassing to refuse.
The food was warm, but warmer still was the care shown to me by Sir Randy and his girlfriend, Nikki, who was from China. I was about to take my first bite when Sir Randy offered a prayer of thanksgiving. My respect for him deepened at that moment. At my first bite, tears welled up in my eyes — moved by their kindness and by how God answers prayers. When the couple looked at me, I casually said I must be catching a cold — that was why my eyes were watery. I do not know if they believed me.
After dinner, Sir Randy walked me back to my unit, carrying some cooked food. I said, “This is more than enough, bro!” He smiled and explained they were leaving for Daejeon and just wanted to make sure I had food until the next day. He then returned to his unit and brought me a pot, a pan, a kettle, and some coffee sticks. I did not know what to say. I wanted to hug him for all the help he was giving.
His kindness did not end there. When he learned I could not use my SIM card, he lent me one of his smartphones and his iPod before they left, and he kept his Wi-Fi open so I could use the internet. Our units were only meters apart, so I could access his connection from my room.
I had no words left. “Thank you” felt worn out from repetition. I wanted to hug him, but he was in a hurry to leave. After he stepped out of my unit, I simply closed my eyes and silently thanked Him. I am not a good person. I am weak and sinful. It is simply that the Lord is gracious and loving to those who call on Him.
I am truly fortunate that on my very first day in South Korea, I met friends like Randy and Nikki. They are more than friends — they are siblings from different wombs. They are the reason my first day in South Korea is so special.
Randy and Nikki are living testimonies of God’s goodness.
“Please Teach Me English!” (1)
(First of Three Parts)
“I don’t speak English well… please teach me.” One or two of my Korean students would tell me this (or a similar statement) in broken English at the end of our first meeting or any class as the semester progressed. Their voice and how they said it straddled between surrender and supplication. I cannot recall a semester where I did not hear something similar to that sentence. It reminds me of the first Korean movie I watched, “Please Teach Me English,” a romantic comedy film. It was recommended by the instructor who supervised the Teaching English to Speakers of Other Languages (TESOL) short course that I took when I decided to include teaching English overseas as one of my career options. Each enrollee in that program was given a VCD copy of the movie. Well, I watched the film not because of TESOL-related intentions but because of the increasing popularity of K-Drama and K-Pop, with which I got hooked. Little did I know that watching that movie would later influence my career path.
There is no shame in admitting that I am one of the millions who became obsessed with Korean cultural content. In short, I got drowned by the Korean Wave (Hallyu) that reached the shores of the Philippines at the turn of the 21st century. Like many of my compatriots (and people from other parts of the world), I became enamored with K-pop and K-drama. Therefore, even if our TESOL supervisor did not mention that the movie provides plenty of tips for foreign English teachers, I would watch the movie. I even revisited the film before completing the program. However, the movie only came back to my mind during my first semester of teaching here in South Korea when my students started approaching me and saying sentences similar to the movie’s title. It prompted me to vividly recall the scenes between the English teacher and her students and made me rewatch the film.
Since then, when students confide in me about their difficulties in learning English, I am reminded of the main characters, Young-ju and Jang-hyuk, in the movie. These characters embody the excitement and struggles many Koreans face while learning English. One scene that particularly stands out is when Young-ju is seen eating pages from a dictionary in hopes of improving her vocabulary. This desperation is a testament to the lengths that some Koreans will go to master the English language.
The English teacher in the story is named Catherine, a native speaker of English from Australia. After watching the movie again, her interactions with students came to mind when I held my classes. Catherine tried to speak Korean to communicate better with her students, which is something I struggle with.
The movie provides insight into the English education system in South Korea. It sheds light on how Koreans perceive English learning and interact with English-speaking foreigners. The film also reveals the differing opinions on the necessity of learning the language. Despite being released in 2003, it still accurately portrays the current realities of English education in South Korea and their belief that English is essential for upward social and economic mobility. It also gave me a deeper understanding of life in Korea and the Korean psyche. The movie succeeded in reconfiguring my “Korean Dream.”
My “Korean Dream”
The constant influx of Korean content in my country’s print and broadcast media sparked a deep interest in the history and culture of South Korea within me. In addition to watching K-dramas on TV, I actively sought out Korean-related materials on the internet and read encyclopedia entries about the country south of the 38th parallel line. Gradually, I found myself becoming more and more immersed in Korean culture. Instead of using traditional greetings like “hello” and “thank you,” I began using “annyeonghaseyo” and “gamsahamnida.” When expressing deep affection, I started saying “saranghaeyo” instead of “I love you.” I even began singing Korean songs and desired to try their food, particularly the legendary Kimchi. Over time, my interest in everything related to Korea grew.
The cultural influences of South Korea on my homeland have ignited a strong desire within me to visit the country and explore the locations featured in TV shows and movies. I have always wanted to come here to fulfill that desire. I had many plans for my trip, such as riding the subway system in Seoul, strolling through Myeongdong at night and trying street food, spending my summer vacation on the beautiful island of Jeju, tasting soju and maekju, and trying the unique combination of the two, known as somaek. I also looked forward to savoring Korean dishes prepared by local chefs, wearing traditional hanbok outfits, and immersing myself in the culture by interacting with native Korean people. This is how my dream of experiencing Korea began and has become deeply rooted in my mind.
After watching the movie “Please Teach Me English,” I dreamt of teaching English in South Korea. Initially, I wanted to teach English at a university in the Middle East, but then I started thinking, why not teach in the country I have been fascinated with for so long? My dream of visiting South Korea as a tourist turned into a desire to live and work here.
When I was training for TESOL, I was then experiencing severe burnout from years of work as a school administrator. It did not help that I was confronted by personal demons at the same time. That personal circumstance required that I make not only a change in my career but also in my environment. That’s when I decided to apply for a position as an English teacher here in South Korea. This country is a popular destination for English teachers due to the attractive salaries and excellent benefits. However, there is intense competition among native English speakers for teaching positions in schools and hagwons (private academies). Non-native English speakers encounter even more tremendous obstacles in securing these positions, and their prospects of landing a teaching role in the language department of a South Korean university are slim. It’s like trying to find a needle in a haystack. If you’re not a citizen of a country that belongs to the inner circle of the concentric circles model of the English language, it’s nearly impossible to get hired.
I couldn’t believe it when, for the first time, I read in an advertisement for ESL/EFL teachers the lines “Only native speakers of English may apply!”. I thought it was a prank. But it wasn’t. Why native speakers of English are accorded that preference or almost an exclusive right to teach Korean students is unfathomable. Fortunate and privileged are the “Catherines” of the world.
Blessed “Catherines”
When I began searching for teaching positions abroad, I noticed numerous job openings for English teachers in South Korea. However, I was disappointed to find very few opportunities for non-native English speakers like myself, while there were many for native speakers like the character named Catherine in the movie. I couldn’t help but grudgingly think that being a “Catherine” in this world is a privilege. I was surprised to learn that many universities in Asian countries such as South Korea, China, Japan, Vietnam, and the Middle East only preferred to hire native English speakers to teach the language. I realized this policy existed when I started looking for teaching positions abroad. I never thought that native-speakerism was a real thing. In a world as diverse as ours, it seems unfair that only native English speakers can teach the language.
Is the “only native speakers of English may apply” policy fair, just, and acceptable? If I get to respond to the question, the answer is already apparent. So, I decided to seek the opinion not of a non-native English speaker or a native speaker of the language but of a neutral entity – ChatGPT.
ChatGPT explains that “being a native speaker does not necessarily equate to being a skilled language teacher. Teaching requires specific training and expertise in pedagogy and language instruction, which native speakers may not possess. Additionally, non-native speakers who have learned English as a second language often have firsthand experience with the challenges that learners face, making them empathetic and effective teachers.” It added that “the effectiveness of language teaching depends on various factors, including the qualifications, experience, and teaching approach of the instructor, rather than solely on their native speaker status. Therefore, a more inclusive approach that values expertise and diversity in language education may be a wiser policy in promoting effective language learning for all students.”
I have worked with English teachers from specific countries over the years and observed their personalities and levels of professionalism. Additionally, as a member of the hiring team at the university where I currently teach, I have gained insight into job applicants’ educational qualifications and training. As shown in their CVs, some who tried to apply for a teaching position in our university are legitimate and qualified ESL/EFL teachers, but some were hired mainly because of their country of origin. They have been teaching in South Korea for a long time but are not English majors and have not graduated from courses aligned with education and language teaching. If only I could take the liberty to spill (all of) the beans.
It’s puzzling why most universities in South Korea and other Asian countries prefer to hire only native English speakers to teach the language. This practice is a form of discrimination, and, ironically, Asians themselves deny their fellow Asians equal job opportunities. However, I didn’t give up my dream of living and working as an English teacher in South Korea. Some universities here understand that accent and country of origin should not be the criteria for hiring ESL/EFL teachers. I hoped that some universities would prioritize qualifications, training, language proficiency, and pedagogical skills over accent and country of origin when hiring English teachers.
I was right! Although few and far between, some universities in South Korea do not discriminate against non-native English speakers. I sent an application to all of them. After a challenging application process, a university offered me a teaching contract, even though I am not a “Catherine.” My dream of living and working in this country became a reality. I have been plying my trade here as an English teacher for over ten years.
If there is something else significant that the movie “Please Teach Me English” taught me, it is understanding more about the Young-jus and Jang-hyuks and how to deal with them.
My Continuing Journey In South Korea
When I quit my job as a school administrator in Bulacan to pursue ESL teaching in South Korea, my loved ones and friends strongly advised me to reconsider. They reminded me that I already had a solid career in the academe in the Philippines, and the pay was decent. But as Jake Sully says in the movie Avatar, “Sometimes your whole life boils down to one insane move.”
So, in 2013, I flew to South Korea. But it wasn’t an insane move, rather a calculated risk. I have no regrets, as coming here was one of the best decisions I’ve made in my life. Working here has been an enormous blessing. This country is a beautiful place to live. When I arrived, I could confirm the impressions created by the Korean dramas and movies I had watched. Indeed, South Korea is progressive and beautiful, and its citizens are competitive, hard-working, and health-conscious.
Beyond providing financial stability for me and my family, my time in South Korea has fostered tremendous personal and professional growth. The working conditions at the university where I am currently employed are excellent. At first, I could hardly believe that I only needed to work less than 20 hours over four days. We must work only seven months but are paid for the entire year. This arrangement has given me ample time to connect virtually with my family and pursue my other passion—writing. Additionally, our university offers performance points and cash incentives for research projects, further enhancing my love for writing.
I mainly teach English subjects. There have been semesters when I was asked to teach at the graduate school and serve as an adviser to graduate students working on their dissertations. When I’m not engaged in academic work, I dedicate time to writing stories, poems, plays, and scholarly studies, many of which are published on my personal website. Several of my research studies have been presented at international conferences and published in internationally indexed journals. I have genuinely found fulfillment as a writer in this country.
I can’t imagine having any other “job cum hobby” besides teaching and writing. You may ask why. As Seth Godin said, “Do what you love and love what you do.” What I do and love is teaching, and what I love and do is writing. I use the expression “job cum hobby” because, when I engage in these activities, I don’t feel like I’m working; it feels more like pursuing hobbies.
My greatest challenge as a teacher is overcoming the cultural barrier between myself and my Korean students. I address this by building a good rapport with them and diligently fulfilling my responsibilities. Being a Filipino in ESL/EFL teaching places me and my fellow countrymen at a disadvantage. There is a common misconception that only native English speakers can teach the language, and even some of our Korean students believe this. It is something that Filipino English teachers like me must work to dispel. If I were to identify my most significant contribution as a Filipino in my profession, it would be demonstrating to the academic community in South Korea that one doesn’t need to be a native English speaker to be an effective ESL/EFL teacher.
I can’t think of anything negative about my current job; I have nothing but gratitude. I enjoy a harmonious relationship with my coworkers, both Korean and foreign. Although I occasionally clash with fellow foreigners over policy matters and work attitudes, we adhere to the principle of disagreeing without being disagreeable, which helps us maintain mutual respect.
My best advice for my fellow Filipinos working in South Korea is to work hard and respect everyone. Hard work leads to success as expat workers, while respect for others, regardless of citizenship, helps them stay out of trouble. It’s also important to abide by the laws of our host country.
Reflecting on my 12 years here, I see that what began as a leap into the unknown has become the most fulfilling chapter of my life. Teaching and writing—my two greatest passions—have flourished in this country. Embracing new challenges reminds me why I took that “calculated risk” in 2013. South Korea has provided me with opportunities to improve my overall well-being and has reaffirmed my belief that staying true to what you love leads to rewarding outcomes.
South Korea: Celebrating My 10th Year
On to my 10th year here in South Korea. This country has been a huge… huge blessing to me, personally and professionally.
Thank you Lord. To You be the glory!
This video shows a few glimpses of my 10 years in this country.
Examining National Character and Development in Selected Southeast Asian Countries and South Korea
A research paper published in the ASEAN-Korea Centre’s official publication and later presented at an international conference
Examining National Character and Development in Selected Southeast Asian Countries and South Korea
Massuline Antonio D. Ligaya, LPT, PhD
A scholarly essay published by the ASEAN-Korea Centre under the Council of ASEAN Professors in Korea (CAPK) Essay Series
CAPK Essay #2 | December 20, 2021
Presented at the 3rd Biennial International Conference on International Relations, August 11–12, 2022, Bandung, Indonesia
Summary
This scholarly essay examines whether differences in national character might help illuminate differences in socio-economic and human development among South Korea, Malaysia, the Philippines, and Vietnam. Rather than treating national character simply as a collection of personality traits, the essay approaches it through cultural, socio-economic, and political lenses. At its core is a broader question: to what extent might the shared cultural orientations of a people be associated with the development achieved by their nation, and what lessons might selected Southeast Asian countries draw from South Korea’s development experience?
The analysis adopts a descriptive-comparative approach and uses two principal frameworks. National character is examined through Hofstede’s six dimensions of national culture: power distance, individualism versus collectivism, masculinity versus femininity, uncertainty avoidance, long-term versus short-term orientation, and indulgence versus restraint. National development, meanwhile, is viewed primarily through the Human Development Index (HDI), which incorporates indicators of health, education, and standard of living. The essay relies on secondary data and previously published sources rather than original survey, experimental, or other primary data.
The inquiry is organized around four central concerns: how the national character of the four countries may be described using Hofstede’s cultural dimensions; how their levels of development compare using HDI; what inferences may reasonably be drawn concerning the relationship between cultural orientations and national development; and what selected Southeast Asian countries might learn from South Korea’s socio-economic and political development experience.
The comparative analysis identifies notable differences among the four countries. Within the data used in the essay, South Korea emerged as the least hierarchical, most collectivist, most long-term oriented, and most restrained of the four societies examined. It also ranked highest in human development. Among the three Southeast Asian countries, Malaysia recorded the strongest HDI performance, while the Philippines and Vietnam ranked lower on several development indicators.
Particular attention is given to long-term orientation as a potentially important feature of the South Korean development experience. The essay considers Korea’s emphasis on education, investment in research and development, strong work orientation, future-oriented planning, and expectations of accountability from public leaders as cultural and institutional characteristics that may have accompanied the country’s rapid transformation. These characteristics are considered not in isolation, but within the wider historical, educational, economic, and political environment in which South Korean development occurred.
The analysis, however, does not establish that Hofstede’s cultural dimensions caused the differences in development observed among the four countries. The relationships discussed are interpretive inferences based on cross-national comparison and secondary evidence rather than statistically tested causal effects. Indeed, the essay itself recognizes difficulties in interpreting national cultures exclusively through standardized dimensional scores. Some apparent tensions are noted between Hofstede’s classifications and observable characteristics of South Korean society—for example, Korea’s classification as relatively feminine and highly uncertainty-avoidant alongside its intense competitiveness and record of technological innovation.
The essay consequently treats the South Korean experience not as a model that Southeast Asian countries should simply reproduce, but as a source of potentially transferable lessons. Among the areas identified for consideration are sustained investment in education, research and development, long-term planning, cultivation of human resources, and public accountability. The implication is not that countries should adopt Korean cultural characteristics wholesale, but that policymakers may examine particular practices and orientations and determine which are compatible with their own histories, institutions, and cultural circumstances.
Importantly, the discussion also recognizes that national development should not be judged by economic achievement alone. South Korea’s extraordinary economic and educational progress is considered alongside social concerns associated with a highly demanding society, including long working hours, low fertility, divorce, and suicide. The essay therefore offers a qualified view of development: material prosperity and international competitiveness are important, but the human and social costs accompanying development must also be considered.
Overall, the essay suggests that national development emerges from a complex interaction of culture, institutions, human resources, education, leadership, policy choices, and historical circumstances. National character may provide one useful lens through which differences among countries can be explored, but it should not be treated as a single or deterministic explanation for why some nations develop more rapidly than others.
Scholarly Contribution
The essay contributes a theory-guided, cross-national perspective on national character and development by bringing Hofstede’s cultural framework into conversation with HDI and other socio-economic indicators. Its value lies less in demonstrating causal relationships than in using systematic comparison to raise questions about how cultural orientations, institutions, education, leadership, and long-term policy choices may interact in shaping national development.
A further contribution is its attempt to move discussion of South Korea’s development beyond economic statistics. By considering cultural orientations alongside education, research and development, governance, and human well-being, the essay encourages a broader understanding of what other developing societies might—and might not—learn from the Korean experience. Its central implication is one of selective learning rather than simple imitation: practices that have contributed to South Korea’s progress may offer useful lessons, but their relevance must be evaluated within the particular cultural and institutional contexts of other nations.
Keywords: national character; national development; culture; Hofstede’s Cultural Dimensions; Human Development Index; South Korea; Southeast Asia
Publication Information
The essay was published on December 20, 2021, as CAPK Essay #2 through the ASEAN-Korea Centre / Council of ASEAN Professors in Korea.
Full Text
The full text of this publication is available upon request. Researchers, educators, students, and other interested readers who wish to obtain a copy may contact the author through this website or by email at madligaya@gmail.com.







