We’ve all had our Amy-Danny beef moments while on the road, either directly or indirectly (if you’re in the backseat). Since you’re reading this I’m going to assume that things didn’t escalate to the point of death.
Road rage is a transnational pain-in-the-ass that plagues almost every city. Just scrolling through the comments on YouTube for the BEEF sneak peak clip makes it obvious how relatable this issue is. “When they’d start live streaming LA drivers?” Replace LA with Seoul and this comment still makes 100% sense.
If there’s one difference between the drivers in LA and Seoul though, it’s that you can’t see the latter. Literally. It’s impossible to see who’s behind the steering wheel in Seoul because almost everyone tints their windows to the point of invisibility. This isn’t so much the case for cars in America or Europe where you can see past the windshield without much trouble.
Assuming that such opacity is legal in Seoul—not an expert here—it warrants some questioning. Why are Seoulites so bent on tinting their car windows to the extent that anonymity is obtained? Are Koreans actually vampires with sparkling skin? Or is this search for privacy a manifestation of some deeper anti-social urge?
Tint out your identity
The benefits of window tinting are obvious and two-fold. At the functional level it blocks out UV rays that prematurely age your skin, divest you of your youth, increase your probability of skin cancer, etc. At the emotional level, window tinting offers drivers and riders a sense of enhanced privacy. Depending on how dark one tints, the level of privacy can range from having a layer of dark see-through tights wrapped around the car to blackout curtain-esque opaqueness.
We see a lot of the blackout effect on large vans that escort celebrities through town. Knowing how invasive paparazzi and sasaeng (obsessive) fans can be, this isn’t altogether surprising. However, the story is somewhat different for the majority of Seoulites who cruise through the city in darkly tinted Hyundais, BMWs, Mercedes-Benzs, Porsches. Unless they’re being hunted down by loan sharks, most Seoulites don’t really have a practical reason for concealing their identities. Yet they insist that they do. Not just one or two, but many Seoulites. Eight out of ten cars on the road are tinted to some degree of anonymity in Seoul. This predilection for privacy is what sets Seoul’s streets apart from those in LA, NY, Paris, Vienna, etc.
So why do Seoulites seek such levels of privacy inside their cars? Phrased differently, what are they hiding from?
Perhaps “hide” is a bit strong of a term, but it is certainly possible to sniff out a sentiment of retreat—or shyness—from Seoul’s drivers. I’m tempted to play NewJeans’ “Super Shy” at this point. This shyness arises in response to the Gaze that pervades the city. When you’re walking the streets of Seoul, it’s near impossible to avoid the Gaze—that furtive almost nonchalant glance that is essentially a long hard stare compressed into 3 milliseconds. A stare that tries to figure out where you stand on the spectrum of success. It’s fleeting and certainly not tangible so it’s easy to miss. But the Gaze—or rather its effect—is accumulative. The feeling that you’re being absorbed into and judged by the Gaze grows stronger with each person you greet, shake hands with, spar with over wine. Maybe I’m exaggerating, over-interpreting, being too sensitive—perhaps all of the above. Whichever the case you might be wondering why not ignore it all?
A stare that tries to figure out where you stand on the spectrum of success.
And you’re absolutely right. You can ignore the Gaze and continue on with your day. It’s just that this is easier said than done.
I wrote about in one of my previous posts how densely populated Seoul is. A whopping 9.8 million people cram themselves onto the metro and bus everyday to get to work and back. What this figure implies, on a social level, is that the probability that you meet someone that you know or someone who knows a person that you know (try that for a tongue twister) is exponentially higher than in a city like Richmond, VA. There’s even a saying in Korean that jokes about how you can technically know everyone in Seoul as long as you have three friends in the city. Not sure what the joke truth ratio of that statement is but one thing is clear: Seoulites are extremely conscious of how others perceive them. In other words, Seoulites bring the Gaze upon themselves.
The automobile becomes a sanctuary in both the physical and emotional sense of the word.
The only place outside of home that Seoulites can seek refuge from the Gaze is their car. The automobile becomes a sanctuary in both the physical and emotional sense of the word. And what better way to ensure absolute privacy than to tint the windows of your car the darkest shade possible? The impenetrable darkness completes the urban retreat from Seoul’s relentless Gaze.
Two-faced anonymity
Hiding behind tinted windows grants people breathing space. This is good. Everyone needs a break at some point. What’s not so good is that this same anonymity becomes an outlet for uncurbed rage and misconduct.
Anonymity is leveraged as a weapon on the road. Some drivers lose their sense of driving etiquette and repeatedly instigate Amy-Danny situations at times when tensions are already high (aka rush hour). Especially drivers of premium mobility brands (i.e. BMW, Benz, Audi, Volvo, etc.). Part of me questions whether such people would have the audacity to act the way in which they do if their windows weren’t tinted so darkly. Kristin Andrews similarly notes how “you can hardly see anyone let alone tell if they’re waving” (or giving you the finger) in her observation of the drivers in Seoul. In my opinion, this anonymity is what prompts many Seoulites to use their hazards to communicate to others that they’re sorry, grateful or lost while out driving. Seoulites aren’t too inclined to bare their faces in situations where they risk losing their composure (and soiling their reputation) in front of someone they probably shouldn’t.
Interestingly, BMWs in Seoul are notorious for having reckless drivers behind the wheel. Disclaimer: I have nothing against BMW. But it seems like one two many drivers in Seoul are playing the brand’s slogan against itself. BMW drivers manifest “sheer driving pleasure” in a plethora of ways that include but are not limited to jutting in front of other cars, suddenly narrowing the distance between the car in front so that drivers nearby can’t change lanes, speeding when the exact opposite should be taking place, etc….and a quick search on Google shows that this BWM syndrome isn’t exclusive to Seoul. What is up with these drivers?
To circle back to my initial point on anonymity, I would say that half of the BWMs—or any other socially coveted car—marauding across Seoul wouldn’t be as egregious if their windows weren’t so darkly tinted. I can’t say the same for places like LA and NY where it seems people will still be assholes even if the whole world can see them behind their wheels. However, if we ignore for a second that jerks come in all different shapes and sizes and contemplate the causality between window tinting and uncouth driving (whichever comes first), we can posit that the two reinforce each other. This might not sound like much of a revelation on its own, but as is with everything culture related, we need to examine the context from which a phenomenon arises.
If you recall, the Gaze is omnipresent. It is conjured by the very people that shy away from it. There’s a paradoxical desire to see without being seen; implicit within this Gaze is a yearning for something better—a vision that materializes in full capitalist grandeur on the street. It’s not often that we spot someone who acts out this vision, and even rarer someone who actually embodies it. But then again we have the saying “fake it till you make it”. And faking is much easier when you’re sitting behind the heavily tinted windows of a BMW, Benz, Cadillac or basically any other car that symbolizes success. I’m not saying that such drivers are all posers. Rather, what I’m trying to get at is how premium/luxury cars with darkly tinted windows instill a sense of false confidence into people. A confidence that seems to encourage rash behavior that translates into bad driving on the road. Success is not synonymous with indiscretion. Nor arbitrary outbursts of road rage. Yet, some drivers seem to conflate the two and wrongly assume that anonymity paired with the right brand grants them the right to drive in a manner that suggests they own the road. Would they act that way at a public restaurant? Probably (hopefully) not. What they fail to realize is that such driving is but a reflection of the erroneous belief in branded shortcuts—a brand is just a brand. It does not explain nor validate a set of questionable actions.
In short, the Gaze imprisons people within a framework of “social acceptance” where the goal is to win respect. At the same time, it engenders a breed of people who leverage it superficially to justify their jettisoning of moral values.
Controlling rage
The way in which a people release their anger both elucidates and prompts questions about a culture’s mental stability. While it wouldn’t be reasonable to generalize that all K-drivers suffer from a bad case of uncontrollable road rage, it is possible to put forth the argument that Seoulites utilize anonymity to hide from and confront the Gaze simultaneously. Refuge is sought within the confines of a secure and darkly tinted car. However, depending on the driver and how egoistic (s)he feels about the machine, it could become a sassy medium for answering the Gaze. Masquerading through Seoul with no regard for anyone except oneself is a straightforward, albeit crass, way of communicating to others that you do not fear the Gaze. You no longer care what others think—your car is a refined statement of success.
Is this morally perverse way of harnessing the Gaze unique to Seoul? No. People all over the world pull of jerk moves just to garner attention. However, Seoul is perhaps one of the few cities where the tension between adapting and eschewing social norms runs low in the background. Seoulites are not naturally inclined to deviate from the crowd, even if it means subjecting oneself to the Gaze. On the other hand, Seoulites yearn to distance themselves from a culture that systemizes emotional suppression.
People eventually crack.
And maybe that’s what we need. A crack in the cultural layer that tints our city with a civility underpinned by violent, contradictory urges. We all want to be seen, the way we should be seen. Challenging the Gaze under a veil of anonymity is cowardice at best. Road rage is not an act of defiance. True rebellion is contained in control.
Are you in control of what tints your windows?