Behind the growth of the K-pop industry, legal disputes have always existed. It is no longer uncommon for popular stars and the agencies that nurture them to oppose each other in court.
Recently, cases such as Yoo Jun Won refusing the exclusive contract with Fantasy Boys after an audition program, OMEGA X’s allegations of harsh treatment, FIFTY FIFTY’s suspected tampering, EXO-CBX‘s conflict over settlement payments, and the NewJeans case intertwined with management rights disputes have all come to light. Though the subjects and timing differ, legal battles over exclusive contracts continue to recur without end.
People focus on “who is the betrayer, who is the villain.”
According to Daily Sports, however, it is too complex and multi-dimensional to view this fight purely as a battle of good versus evil. At its core lies the entertainment industry’s unique “structural sadness,” where the survival of agencies and the survival of idols inevitably clash head-on.
First, it is necessary to understand the reality faced by agencies. The entertainment industry is commonly called a “high risk, high return” business. In reality, it is a structure requiring investments with very low probability of success.
Training a single trainee costs tens of millions of won, and debuting one group costs billions of won. Statistically, out of ten debuting groups, nine fail to succeed and disappear. Only one group survives to generate revenue. The profits earned by this one successful group must cover the sunk costs of the nine failed groups’ investments and the company’s debts.
From the agency’s perspective, a successful idol is not merely an individual artist under contract; they are the sole source of revenue sustaining the company’s existence, the asset responsible for paying employees’ salaries and securing the company’s future.
If an idol requests contract termination just as profits start to come in, the agency does not see it as mere breach of contract but as a “survival crisis” for the company.
On the other hand, an idol’s professional career typically ends by their late twenties, making it cruelly short compared to other professions. In this process, the idol’s dignity and personal rights are often easily violated. Therefore, lawsuits to terminate exclusive contracts often represent not greed for more money but desperate struggles to protect themselves.
What is most tragic is that in situations where both parties’ survival rights clash, it is hard to find a compromise, and the conflict inevitably becomes a zero-sum game that demonizes each other.
The fierce confrontations seen in recent cases such as FIFTY FIFTY, NewJeans, and EXO-CBX arise not from personal animosity but from this “structural sadness” where losing means threatening one’s own survival.
