The recent film, “The Man Who Lives with the King,” captivated over 15 million viewers with its historical drama, but it was the portrayal of Han Myeong-hoe, played by Yoo Ji-tae, that truly seized the audience’s imagination. While the film depicted him as an imposing villain, intimidating the young King Danjong with his sheer physical presence, historical records present a more nuanced picture. In the Joseon Dynasty Annals, Han Myeong-hoe emerges not as a front-line intimidator, but as a master strategist, a shadowy figure pulling strings from behind the scenes. This distinction is crucial, as it highlights a recurring trend in historical power struggles and unsettlingly mirrors contemporary challenges with the proliferation of misinformation. Han’s genius, and his terrifying effectiveness, lay in his ability to spin fragile suspicions into potent political threats, then weaponize these threats into accusations of treason to eliminate his rivals. The 1453 Coup, the film’s central backdrop, exemplifies this chilling methodology. Historians also strongly suspect his hand in the “Case of Nam Yi” during King Yejong’s reign, precisely because he reaped the most significant political rewards from the affair, a testament to his uncanny ability to profit from manufactured crises.
Han Myeong-hoe’s methods were, regrettably, not unique to him. The annals of the Joseon Dynasty are replete with similar power plays where truth was distorted and exaggerated for personal gain. Look no further than the Gimyo Literati Purge of 1519, where the entrenched Merit Subject faction skillfully manipulated circumstances to remove the reformist Jo Gwang-jo. Or consider the Yangje Station Wall Poster Incident, a fabricated scandal that provided Yun Won-hyeong’s Lesser Yun faction with the perfect pretext to systematically dismantle Yun Im’s Greater Yun faction. In each instance, a carefully constructed narrative of falsehood and exaggeration was donned like a protective mask, transforming into a potent weapon to consolidate power and eliminate opposition. This historical pattern of weaponizing untruths for political advantage serves as a chilling reminder of how easily facts can be twisted and narratives manipulated to serve self-serving agendas, a phenomenon that has only amplified in our increasingly interconnected world.
The unsettling ease with which falsehoods were wielded in ancient Joseon finds a disconcerting parallel in our modern world, where the obscuring of truth for personal gain is a daily occurrence. We’ve all seen, or fallen victim to, the rapid spread of misinformation, particularly in times of heightened emotion. Take, for example, the recent online circulation of a seemingly realistic image depicting a U.S. aircraft carrier struck by Iran. This image, despite its convincing appearance, was entirely generated by artificial intelligence. Similar AI-fabricated scenes of U.S. soldiers being captured and surrendering also quickly made the rounds. It’s a stark reminder that the more inflamed public emotions are – be it by the anxieties of war, the devastation of natural disasters, or the fervor of political elections – the faster and deeper falsehoods penetrate the fabric of reality. This is not an isolated incident; in January 2024, an AI-generated robocall mimicking President Joe Biden’s voice reached voters just before the New Hampshire Democratic primary. Further back, in May 2023, an AI-generated image resembling an explosion near the Pentagon caused significant ripples in financial markets, demonstrating the immediate and tangible impact of such fabricated content.
The most concerning aspect of this proliferation of AI-generated content is its insidious seep into our everyday lives, far beyond high-stakes political or international events. Scammers are now leveraging AI to conjure up fake real estate agents and create entirely fictitious property listings, swindling unsuspecting victims out of preliminary contract deposits. In the United States, the alarm bells are ringing louder over crimes involving deepfake audio and video, used to impersonate legitimate sellers or brokers and divert transaction funds. Even more broadly, AI services presenting themselves as psychological counselors or fortune tellers are multiplying at an alarming rate. The danger here lies in the convincing nature of these AI creations; people often fail to question their authenticity simply because they seem too real, too persuasive, too human-like. This widespread acceptance, born from an inability to discern real from fake, opens up a Pandora’s Box of potential exploitation and erosion of trust in digital interactions.
The evolution of fake news has moved beyond a “cottage industry” of manual fabrication and word-of-mouth dissemination. Today, we are facing a far more potent and destructive force: mass-produced and mass-distributed falsehoods. Where once a lie required careful crafting and slow propagation, now, with the advent of artificial intelligence, falsehoods can be generated instantaneously in the form of incredibly convincing photos, videos, and audio. These AI creations are then rapidly disseminated across countless digital platforms, reaching billions in a blink. The sheer volume and speed of this dissemination render traditional methods of containment, such as relying solely on human fact-checking and after-the-fact punishment, virtually impossible. By the time a human fact-checker verifies a piece of content as false, it has likely already spread globally, influencing opinions and shaping perceptions. The scale of the challenge demands a more proactive and multifaceted approach.
In response to this growing threat, the government has introduced measures like the AI Basic Act and mandated watermark labeling on deepfake content. However, given the relentless pace of AI advancement, these efforts often feel like playing catch-up, already behind the curve. Furthermore, a significant concern looms: the potential for excessively strong government oversight to stifle free expression. There’s a tangible fear that such regulations could inadvertently transform into a tool for branding inconvenient or critical reporting as “fake news,” thereby undermining journalistic integrity and public discourse. This delicate balance between regulation and freedom underscores the critical need for a robust and engaged private sector. Organizations like the Poynter Institute, which I visited earlier this year, exemplify the vital role of independent, non-profit entities. Located in Florida, this institute has been a pioneer in raising awareness about AI-generated falsehoods, establishing fact-checking standards, and providing “AI literacy” training to journalists and citizens alike. Their years of research and tangible results have earned them significant influence within American media circles. In contrast, South Korea’s response remains largely fragmented, limited to individual news organizations, platforms, and self-regulatory bodies. A comprehensive, private-sector-led verification ecosystem is alarmingly underdeveloped. The path forward demands a synergistic approach, where government institutions and voluntary private-sector verification initiatives advance in tandem. Only through a collaborative effort encompassing responsible content production, independent verification, and widespread citizen AI literacy can we hope to disarm AI-generated falsehoods and safeguard the integrity of information in our increasingly digital world.