As right-wing populism surges around the world, immigrants and their descendants often face discrimination and become targets of political scapegoating. Yet, the question of which groups of immigrants are targeted by anti-immigrant rhetoric is dependent on a host of factors, and there remains a lack of clear evidence on the reasons underlying xenophobic behavior and the othering of immigrant populations.

A new study, published in the American Political Science Review, introduces a novel international relations perspective, particularly the concept of geopolitical rivalry, into the literature on anti-immigrant sentiment. The study indicates citizens strongly prefer immigrants from non-rival countries over those from rival countries.

The study’s co-authors — including Kiyoteru Tsutsui, APARC deputy director and director of APARC’s Japan Program and Dartmouth College’s Charles Crabtree, a former visiting professor with the Japan Program, shift the research focus of anti-immigrant sentiment to the political dynamics between the immigrants' countries of origin and the destination countries. In doing so, the authors emphasize the importance of going beyond the existing preoccupation with the individual background characteristics of migrants and integrating the study of xenophobia within the global context of political competition and alliances.

Geopolitical Relations and Public Perceptions 

Traditionally, research on anti-immigrant attitudes has concentrated on factors such as race, culture, and labor market impacts. By contrast, Tsutsui and his co-authors build on the view that the political relations between immigrants’ origin and host countries shape citizen attitudes toward them. The researchers draw on this international relations perspective to argue that immigrants (as opposed to refugees) from countries with contentious or conflictual relationships with the host country are generally less welcomed than those from allied nations.

To test this argument, the researchers used a method known as a forced-choice conjoint experiment, a technique whereby social scientists present survey participants with a series of hypothetical scenarios in which they must choose between two or more options — in this case, potential immigrants — each described by a set of varying attributes. Tsutsui and his co-authors had survey participants choose between two candidates for permanent residency, differentiated by their country of origin and various other attributes typically used in experiments to determine if labor market concerns outweigh preferences for specific immigrants.

The researchers fielded the experiment with nationally representative samples in 22 democracies, mostly in Europe and the Americas but also Asia and South Africa. They assigned four countries of origin to the immigrant profiles: two countries of origin with a similar racial and cultural make-up as the majority of the survey respondents, a rival country and an ally; and two countries with a different racial and cultural make-up.

The results strongly support the geopolitical rivalry argument: “In each of the survey countries, immigrants from non-rival countries are strongly preferred over those from rival countries,” the co-authors write. “The effect is so large that it results in a net preference for immigrants from countries with a dissimilar racial and cultural makeup than the majority of the host country.”

The researchers also show that the greater the respondents’ sense of their own country’s superiority, the stronger the international relations of their governments are mirrored in their preferences for immigrants. Furthermore, they find that members of ethno-racial majorities are more prone to the rivalry effect because they are more strongly identified with their nation compared to minority members.

The authors demonstrate that, for instance, in Western Europe, immigrants from Russia are less favored, while in East Asia, Chinese immigrants face similar hostility. This animosity towards immigrants from rival nations leads to a net preference for those with different racial or cultural backgrounds compared to the more favorable reception of immigrants from allied countries.

“The mechanisms we document in this article play an important part in the overall dynamic leading to the selective rejection or acceptance of immigrants,” Tsutsui and his colleagues summarize.

Addressing Anti-Immigrant Sentiment

In their empirical analysis, the researchers found minimal evidence of broad anti-Asian sentiment or “Sinophobia” beyond the effects of political rivalry. This conclusion holds consistently across various survey countries, continents, and immigrant origin countries. The detailed examination by survey country indicates that generalized racial or cultural biases did not significantly influence the observed preference for immigrants from politically aligned countries. The authors propose that future research expand the sample of survey countries, update and refine measures of political rivalry, and include a broader range of immigrant origins.

The study offers a new lens connecting geopolitical rivalries with xenophobia, providing a more nuanced understanding of public attitudes toward immigrants. Policymakers and researchers can use this framework to better anticipate and address potential backlash against immigrants from countries with politically contentious relations. Informed immigration policies that promote multiculturalism and social inclusion start with a deeper grasp of the forces shaping public perceptions and attitudes toward immigrants.

The Korean Peninsula stands at a perilous crossroads. Recent missile tests and provocations, coupled with historical trends, paint a worrisome picture of the current state of affairs, prompting some analysts to warn of a looming conflict. The Korea Program at Shorenstein APARC recently hosted two events to analyze these escalating tensions that have sparked global concern.

On February 21, the seminar “Slow Boil: What to Expect from North Korea in 2024,” featured Victor Cha, D.S. Song-KF Chair, Professor of Government at Georgetown University, and Senior Vice President for Asia and Korea Chair at the Center for Strategic and International Studies. Cha discussed historical behavioral patterns of North Korean missile tests, military provocations, and weapons demonstrations, and what all these might mean for security on the Korean peninsula.

The following week, on March 7, at the seminar  “Is North Korea Preparing for War?,” we were joined by Robert Carlin, a non-resident scholar at the James Martin Center for Nonproliferation Studies, Middlebury Institute of International Studies at Monterey and Siegfried Hecker, a professor of practice at the James Martin Center for Nonproliferation Studies, Middlebury Institute of International Studies at Monterey, and in the Department of Nuclear Engineering at Texas A&M University. Carlin and Hecker, both formerly our colleagues at the Stanford Center for International Security and Cooperation, discussed their recent 38 North article, “Is Kim Jong Un Preparing for War?,” which posits that Pyongyang has already made the strategic decision to go to war. 

The speakers at both events delved into the various rationales behind North Korea's actions and provided contrasting viewpoints on the trajectory of the situation. While Carlin and Hecker painted a grim picture of North Korea's intentions to engage in warfare and advocated for robust security measures, Cha argued that, while 2024 will be a challenging year, established approaches such as diplomacy and deterrence will remain effective in managing relations with Pyongyang. 

Rhetorical Preparations for Conflict

Carlin and Hecker provided a grave assessment, suggesting that “Kim Jong Un has made a strategic decision to go to war,” akin to his grandfather's stance in 1950. Hecker provided historical context, indicating that despite attempts at normalization with the United States, each North Korean leader has simultaneously explored the development of its nuclear weapons arsenal and accumulation of its conventional armaments. Hecker argued, "The Korean War was never settled, it was an armistice, and so, more or less, North Korea has been preparing for war, but this is different and we are really concerned.”

Carlin noted a shift that occurred at the Workers’ Party plenum at the end of 2022, in which “Pyongyang announced new measures that demonstrated that the old policy with the U.S. was over and that they were going to move much more towards the Russians.” The plenum also marked a rhetorical shift where Kim Jong Un introduced the phrase “war preparations.” “Some people say, ‘Oh that's normal North Korean rhetoric’ — it's not normal. They had not been talking at that level to their own people about war preparations […] they talked a lot about deterrence which meant building up, but not war preparations,” said Carlin.

According to Carlin, Pyongyang has “primed the pan for a clash in the Yellow Sea […] everything we have seen in the last year suggests very strongly that this is a decision the regime has made, and that it will patiently move in this direction.”

The speakers both argued that Kim's shift stems from a perceived failure of past diplomatic endeavors and a traumatic setback at the 2019 Hanoi summit, when, as Hecker indicated, the North Koreans decided to abandon the 30-year policy of seeking normalization with the United States. “This is a more dangerous time than any time since the start of the Korean War,” Hecker warned.
 

The Inevitable Tensions of Deterrence

In contrast, Cha’s assessment of the situation is more cautiously optimistic, anticipating a surge in North Korean provocations in 2024 but attributing it to historical patterns rather than a definitive strategic shift. According to Cha, we should  expect North Korean belligerence to increase in 2024, while dialogue looks unlikely.” He highlighted North Korea's tendency to ramp up provocations during U.S. election years, produced data on the increasing number of provocations since the 1990s, and emphasized Kim's repeated rejections of dialogue with the Biden administration.

Cha also provided four reasons why he does not expect a war with North Korea in 2024: “First, Pyongyang is not confident enough in its capability to deter U.S. and South Korean retaliation […] Second, the uptempo in U.S.-ROK and U.S.-ROK-Japan exercising […] Third, if North Korea were ready to go to war, they would not be selling all their ammunition to Russia […] and fourth, if North Korea were really ready to go to war, they would not be decoupling from South Korea.”

Cha suggested that, while war is unlikely, “coercion, particularly against South Korea, and North Korea-Russia relations are only going to grow.” He described North Korea’s transfer of armaments from Najin to Dunai in Russia to three munition storage facilities near the Ukrainian front. Cha sees a possible change in the U.S. North Korea policy approach from focusing on denuclearization to curtailing and disincentivizing this behavior.

An Uncertain Year Ahead

Whether or not the escalating tensions since the 2019 Hanoi Summit mean that Pyongyang is headed to war, its increased belligerence is a clear signal that Kim’s government has shifted its efforts. North Korea is now pursuing its security and economic agendas without any indication of attempting to normalize relations with the United States or South Korea. Furthermore, it continues to strengthen its partnership with the China-Russia bloc. The assessment of continued tensions on the Korean Peninsula is undisputed.

Ultimately, both perspectives shared by the speakers highlight the need for vigilance, strategic coordination, and innovative policy solutions to address the escalating tensions in the region.
 

This commentary first appeared in Foreign Affairs.

North Korea has long been a source of instability, but a new development over the past year threatens to make things even worse: the country is teaming up with Russia. At a meeting in Pyongyang last July, North Korea’s defense minister, Kang Sun Nam, and his Russian counterpart, Sergei Shoigu, vowed to expand their countries’ military cooperation to “resolutely stand against” their “common enemy,” the United States. Then, at a September summit with President Vladimir Putin in Russia, the North Korean leader Kim Jong Un toasted the Kremlin’s “sacred struggle” against “a band of evil”—a reference to Western countries—and called Putin the “Korean people’s closest friend.”

The North Korean–Russian convergence goes beyond rhetoric. Russia has been propping up the Kim regime with food aid, along with fighter aircraft, surface-to-air missiles, armored vehicles, and equipment for ballistic missile production. There are signs that Russia is sharing its expertise, too. In July, North Korea conducted a test launch of a technologically sophisticated intercontinental ballistic missile, and in November, it managed to send its first military reconnaissance satellite into orbit after several failed attempts.

The transfer of critical supplies goes both ways. North Korea is sending Russia much-needed artillery shells to use in its war in Ukraine, with U.S. officials confirming in October that more than 1,000 containers of arms had arrived in Russia by ship and by train. Pyongyang’s equipment is hardly world-class—its shells have a 20 percent failure rate, whereas most advanced U.S. munitions have failure rates in the low single digits—but many of North Korea’s missiles are difficult for Ukraine to defend itself against because they are long-range, which allows Russian forces to fire from deep within their own territory, and low-tech, which helps them evade detection. North Korean military assistance could therefore be decisive in Russia’s campaign to halt Ukrainian troops’ progress. For Pyongyang, meanwhile, the arms transfer is an opportunity to test its wares in battle.

In addition to undermining U.S. and allied efforts to defend Ukraine, expanding North Korean–Russian cooperation threatens to destabilize the Korean Peninsula. On January 5, less than a week after reports emerged that Russia had launched its first North Korean–made ballistic missiles into Ukraine, North Korea fired hundreds of artillery rounds into the sea near its disputed border with South Korea. On January 14, North Korea conducted its first intermediate-range ballistic missile test of the year and formally announced that it no longer considered South Korea a “partner of reconciliation and reunification” but an enemy that had to be conquered—through nuclear war, if necessary.

As if this were not enough, China is playing a counterproductive role. Beijing’s security relationship with Russia has deepened: Russia has provided critical weapons and defense-industrial expertise to China, and the two countries are engaging in more frequent and sophisticated joint military exercises. Beijing, in effect, has sanctioned a larger Russian military role in Asia and provided the political cover and economic lifeline Putin needs to continue fighting in Ukraine. China has also shielded North Korea from international sanctions and pressure designed to force Kim to give up his nuclear weapons program. There is historical precedent for the three countries’ working together, too. During the Cold War, China, North Korea, and Russia were all committed to “opposing imperialism”—code for their anti-Western activities. Their cooperation facilitated conflict around the world, including in eastern Europe, on the Korean Peninsula, and across the Taiwan Strait.

The good news, however, is that this trilateral alignment turned out poorly for all three countries during the Cold War—and if the United States plays its cards right, it can fail this time around, too. Chinese and Soviet backing helped North Korea fight South Korea and its allies to a draw, leading to an armistice agreement in 1953, but subsequent decades of poverty and international pariah status can hardly be considered a victory for Pyongyang. As for Beijing and Moscow, cooperation soon gave way to the Sino-Soviet split and the eventual collapse of the Soviet Union. Although today’s circumstances are different, familiar signs of unease are already visible among China, North Korea, and Russia—rifts the United States can exploit.

An Unstable Triangle
 

China, North Korea, and the Soviet Union’s falling out over the course of the 1950s is instructive. The decade began with the two larger powers, China and the Soviet Union, committed to each other’s security and to supporting other communist countries, including North Korea. In 1950, Beijing and Moscow signed an alliance agreement vowing mutual defense in the event of an attack and pledging to coordinate their activities against the West. Both supported Kim Il Sung, the founding father of North Korea and the grandfather of Kim Jong Un, in his bid to attack South Korea the same year. When China sent its own forces into the brutal fighting on the Korean Peninsula, the Soviet Union backed the Chinese effort with military aid and expertise. 

But this cooperation was not to last. After the death of the Soviet leader Joseph Stalin in 1953, his successor, Nikita Khrushchev, introduced political reforms and pursued “peaceful coexistence” with the United States. The Soviet Union’s pivot threatened to undermine the Chinese leader Mao Zedong’s domestic project, which emulated Stalin’s harsh governance. Meanwhile, Chinese attacks on Taiwanese-controlled islands, China’s 1962 border war with India, and the Great Leap Forward—Beijing’s disastrous economic and social program of that period—elicited contempt in Moscow. Mao’s personal jabs at the Soviet leadership did not help matters, either. By 1960, the Soviet Union had canceled 12 aid agreements and roughly 200 science and technology projects in China.

Back then, as now, Beijing and Moscow were revisionist great powers with limited willingness to advance the other’s ambitions. Both expected more from a partnership than mere protection. Beijing sought financial assistance for its defense-industrial base and political support to lend legitimacy to the regime. Moscow wanted to lead an ever-expanding communist bloc and to secure China’s help in undermining the United States’ position in Asia. Although the two sides shared many of the same interests, their priorities differed. And they would clash over tactics, especially when it came to dealing with third parties. Beijing and Moscow disagreed, for instance, about how to respond to Polish and Hungarian resistance against Soviet control in 1956: Mao even warned that China would support Poland if the Soviet Union dispatched troops to quell the unrest. 

Chinese and Soviet leaders weighed the benefits and risks of teaming up. Great powers can use alliances to strengthen their militaries and enhance their deterrence, but forming a partnership can also provoke a potential adversary or draw one of the great powers, against its wishes, into its ally’s disputes. During the 1950s, for example, Soviet leaders grew concerned that China’s dispute with Taiwan would undermine their plans to discuss détente with the United States. 

Similar stresses could now be opening fissures between China and its partners. Closer cooperation between North Korea and Russia has highlighted a fundamental tension in Russia’s relationship with China: unlike Pyongyang, Beijing has been unwilling to aid Moscow’s war effort directly. Russia’s requests for military equipment and aid from China have gone unanswered. (Russian officials have claimed that China secretly agreed to provide lethal weapons, but U.S. assessments have found no evidence that this is true.) Beijing’s official stance on the war in Ukraine is to remain neutral. It has called for de-escalation, reiterated its opposition to the use of nuclear weapons, and affirmed the sovereignty of all nations. None of China’s statements have contained explicit rebukes of Russia, but they have not expressed full-throated support, either. The fact that Russia had to turn to North Korea for aid shows how little material assistance Moscow is receiving from Beijing. In the immediate term, Russia has no choice but to take what help it can get, but eventually the discovery that its “no limits” partnership with China does, in fact, have limits may force a reckoning with the risks of relying on Beijing. 

For China’s part, the North Korean–Russian relationship undermines Beijing’s influence on the Korean Peninsula. With no indication of having consulted China, Russia opted to ignore United Nations trade sanctions (which both China and Russia had signed on to) and sell North Korea the advanced military technology its leaders have long desired. Now that Russia is willing to provide benefits that China will not, Pyongyang is turning closer to Moscow, and Beijing has lost significant leverage. To be sure, China is still North Korea’s largest trading partner. And even when North Korea was almost wholly dependent on China, Kim sometimes felt free to dismiss Chinese leaders’ preferences. But Russian support gives Pyongyang a stronger hand to take action that could impede Beijing’s regional and global ambitions. For example, Beijing will not want North Korea—or Russia, for that matter—to jeopardize its attempts to unify Taiwan with mainland China. But a crisis on the Korean Peninsula could spoil China’s plans by driving the United States and its allies toward deeper defense integration, just as the North’s 1950 invasion of the South pushed the United States to rethink its security interests in the region and sign a defense pact with Taiwan in 1954.

The most damning consequence of North Korea’s military cooperation with Russia may be that it is damaging China’s broader diplomatic and security environment. An emboldened North Korea and an aggressive Russia do nothing to improve China’s image or help it compete with the United States. Nothing unites U.S. allies more than shared concerns about North Korean or Russian belligerence. And as a partner of both countries, China is expected to use its own political capital to solve the problems they cause. At a December summit with EU leaders in Beijing, for example, Chinese officials wanted to focus on long-term plans for bilateral relations and caution against a European “de-risking” strategy that threatens China’s technological ambitions and economic interests. But the European delegation instead opened the talks by urging China to leverage its economic influence over Russia “to put an end to the Russian aggression against Ukraine.” 

China has long regarded a trilateral alliance among Japan, South Korea, and the United States as a critical threat to its security, even seeking guarantees from Seoul and Tokyo that they would not enter such a pact. Part of the case Beijing is making to reassure both capitals is that China is prepared to serve as the “stabilizer” of Northeast Asia—a message it repeated in a meeting with Japanese and South Korean officials after North Korea launched its spy satellite in November. At the same meeting, South Korean Foreign Minister Park Jin urged Chinese Foreign Minister Wang Yi to encourage North Korea to halt its provocations and pursue denuclearization. But China’s commitment to playing “a constructive role” could amount to little if North Korea, bolstered by Russia, does not respond to Beijing’s overtures. At a certain point, even if other countries in the region do not see China as complicit in North Korea’s bellicose actions, Japan, South Korea, and the United States are bound to make defense decisions that will be unwelcome in Beijing.

China, recognizing the danger of being grouped with North Korea and Russia, has tried to publicly distance itself from the two countries. In late January, Liu Pengyu, the spokesperson for the Chinese embassy in Washington, told Voice of America that he was “unaware” that North Korea and Russia were cooperating on military matters. China has also denied playing any role in the two countries’ recent collaboration. In line with that claim, when Moscow suggested that North Korea join Chinese-Russian naval drills in September, Beijing did not respond. The official Chinese media has also downplayed the idea of a trilateral alliance among China, North Korea, and Russia. In China’s telling, such a partnership is “concocted” by Western media to justify closer military cooperation among Japan, South Korea, and the United States and generate a Cold War mindset by framing regional politics in terms of two opposing blocs. Beijing still sees real, if limited, benefits from its relationships with North Korea and Russia, but it is clearly concerned that Moscow and Pyongyang’s actions will do China more harm than good.

Let the Chips Fall

The United States and its allies can encourage fissures in the emerging autocratic bloc, but they must proceed with caution. Erecting obstacles is the wrong approach. Taking a page from history, Washington should recognize that China, North Korea, and Russia will sabotage their triangular alignment all on their own. During the Korean War, for instance, Soviet air support for Chinese forces was not forthcoming despite promises from Moscow, and in the 1960s, the Soviet Union reneged on commitments to lend its nuclear expertise to China. Moscow’s continued reluctance to support Beijing, let alone extend security assistance, in times of crisis was a major contributor to the Sino-Soviet split.

Recently, the war in Ukraine provided a perfect opportunity for China to disappoint its partner by refusing to fully back Russia’s military campaign. But the Biden administration squandered that opportunity by threatening China with “consequences” should it assist the Russian war effort and by adding Chinese companies that it asserted were supporting the Russian military to a trade blacklist. Even without these warnings, Beijing would have been unlikely to provide significant aid. Now, however, Beijing can contain the damage to its relationship with Moscow by blaming the United States for China’s failure to help a friend. If Washington had left the issue alone or confined its threats to private channels, China and Russia’s disagreement might have snowballed into an even larger rift.

The best way for the United States to counter the Chinese-Russian alignment is by using it to rally U.S. allies and partners. Shared perceptions of a threat create a fertile environment for deepening alliances and breaking ground on new areas of defense cooperation. Such a mindset has already allowed Japan and South Korea to look past their historic animosities and work together more closely than ever before. Each country decided to reinstate the other’s preferred trade partner status last spring, and in December they resumed high-level economic talks after an eight-year hiatus. U.S. allies in Europe that were previously reluctant to push back against Beijing may also change their minds as they come to see China and Russia as a unified threat—perhaps enough to persuade them to help the United States deter Chinese aggression in Asia. China has been reluctant to support Russia’s military and political goals in Europe in part because Beijing values its economic relationships with European countries. If those countries join the United States in taking a harder line on China, Beijing may conclude that an association with Russia and its disruptive tactics comes with too high a cost.

For now, coordination between North Korea and Russia makes it harder for the United States and its allies to compel either country to leave behind its revisionist, aggressive tendencies and assume a constructive role in the international community. But if their relationship sufficiently threatens China, Beijing may choose to distance itself from both Moscow and Pyongyang. It might even go so far as to try to push North Korea and Russia apart. The United States and its allies were not the primary reason for the Sino-Soviet split during the Cold War, and they will not be the cause of the next Chinese-Russian rift—but they can make the most of the regional dynamics hastening a divide.

As nationalism and identity politics have come to dominate public spheres around the world, researchers strive to understand the repercussions of such political behavior. How does nationalism affect the health of a democratic system, and when might it foster well-functioning liberal democracy?

This is the central question that Gidong Kim, APARC’s 2023-25 Korea Program Postdoctoral Fellow, seeks to answer. Kim’s research, situated at the intersection of comparative politics and political economy, focuses on nationalism and identity politics, inequality and redistribution, and migration in South Korea and East Asia. He earned his Ph.D. in Political Science from the University of Missouri. In his dissertation, “Nationalism and Redistribution in New Democracies: Nationalist Legacies of Authoritarian Regimes,” he investigated the micro-level underpinnings that sustain weak welfare systems in developmental states. 

As part of his fellowship, Kim works with the Stanford Next Asia Policy Lab (SNAPL), a new initiative housed at Shorenstein APARC under the directorship of Professor Gi-Wook Shin. The Lab works to provide evidence-based policy recommendations to help implement structural reforms that foster a “Next Asia” characterized by social, cultural, and economic maturity.

On January 24, 2024, Dr. Kim will present his research at a seminar hosted by the Korea Program. You can register for the event, "Narratives of Inclusion: Evidence from South Korea’s Migration Challenge."

We caught up with Dr. Kim to hear more about his fellowship experience this academic year and what’s next. The conversation has been slightly edited for length and clarity. 

First off, can you describe your current research project?

Broadly speaking, as a comparative political scientist, I study nationalism and its behavioral consequences with a regional focus on Korea and East Asia. More specifically, because nationalism is sometimes harmful to liberal democracy, but it can also be helpful, I research when and how national sentiments have either negative or positive effects on liberal democracy through citizens’ political attitudes and behaviors, such as voting behavior, redistribution preferences, migration attitudes, and public opinion on foreign policy.  

How did you come to be interested in this topic?

I was born and raised in South Korea and earned my B.A. and M.A. in political science at a Korean university before pursuing my Ph.D. in the United States. Because I was originally interested in partisan politics, my goal was to understand how American voters think and behave, so that I can explain Korean politics using theories developed in the United States. However, as I took graduate seminars about American politics, I – both as a Korean and as an East Asian – learned that such theories could not be applied well to the Korean and East Asian context.  

It was my second year of the Ph.D. program when I had academic dissatisfaction about the discrepancy between Western theories and East Asian reality. Dr. Aram Hur, my doctoral advisor, has significantly influenced my academic interests and identity. Every conversation that I had with her led me to new insights.

In particular, we focused on nationalism, which can arise not only from each country’s different historical trajectories but also from citizens’ different interpretations and understandings of such trajectories. Since then, based on my personal experience and knowledge of Korea, I tried to challenge the extant political science theories to offer my explanation of Korean and East Asian political dynamics, especially through a lens of nationalism.  

How has your time at APARC as a Korea Program Postdoc helped your research?

APARC provides me with the best academic environment. First, everyone at the Center is open and always welcomes me whenever I need their help. For example, if I want to develop and sharpen my research ideas, I can share my ideas anytime with excellent scholars who always give me constructive feedback. I believe the in-person conversations I can have whenever necessary are the best part of APARC from which I benefit.

Moreover, both the Korea Program and APARC organize many events. Our events feature not only scholars but also policymakers. This is a tremendous help because I believe the ultimate goal of doing research is to make a better society. 

I felt that many U.S. social science Ph.D. programs, including in political science, aim to train their Ph.D. students as researchers who can write papers, less as leaders who can contribute to our communities. But the diverse events at the Korea Program and APARC keep reminding me of the importance of both roles by giving me a balanced perspective.

Are there any individuals who you connected with during your time at APARC?

Since I came here, I met diverse faculty members and excellent students. But I want to share my interactions with Research Fellow Dr. Xinru Ma and Postdoctoral Fellow Dr. Junki Nakahara. Because we share an office, we always have opportunities to discuss our research ideas, different perspectives, and even daily lives. In particular, while I’m a comparative political scientist, Xinru is an international relations (IR) scholar and Junki is a communication scholar. Because we have different academic foundations, this collaborative environment is extremely helpful for me to sharpen my research ideas.

Can you describe the new SNAPL lab and share a bit about your experience?

SNAPL is led by Prof. Gi-Wook Shin, and its full name is ‘Stanford Next Asia Policy Lab.’ As you can see from the name, SNAPL has two main goals. First, we address emerging political, social, economic, and cultural challenges in Asia that can direct the ‘next’ Asia. Second, we also try to provide ‘policy’ solutions to those challenges to make the next Asia better. In other words, our ultimate goal is to upgrade Asia to the next level.  

For those goals, we gather every week. Because Xinru, Junki, and I are leading different, but interconnected, projects at SNAPL, we share ongoing respective research at our weekly meetings with Prof. Shin as well as our two excellent research associates, Haley and Irene. 

When we discuss together, we sometimes criticize each other and sometimes cannot reach a consensus. But eventually, our active debates lead us to come up with new ideas and find solutions together. 

This weekly SNAPL meeting is my favorite time because I can share my research, get insightful feedback from Prof. Shin, learn from Xinru and Junki, and also get excellent support from both Haley Gordon and Irene Kyoung. I believe this is the best way of doing research, which is extremely rare in the social science field.

What is on the horizon for you? What's next?

First, as a junior scholar, I plan to focus on my research into nationalism and its political behavioral consequences. The projects I am leading at SNAPL focus on how the international relations context, such as the growing U.S.-China tensions and dynamics of alliance relationships, shapes global citizens’ attitudes toward neighboring countries and foreign policy. Because these projects are fundamentally related to national sentiments, by focusing on my SNAPL projects, I want to not only contribute to SNAPL as a postdoctoral fellow but also produce good research as an independent scholar.

Second, as my long-term goal, I want to further promote Korean studies in the United States. Despite the growing academic and public interest in Korea, many people still have a limited understanding of the country. 

As a scholar, one way that I can think of to offer a better explanation of Korea is to actively produce scholarly works, such as books and papers, and more importantly, to share them through diverse networks. Thus, someday in the future, I want to lead an institute for Korean Studies and create diverse channels to share such works.