Career-linked academic clubs become must-have credentials as competition intensifies
Students push through grueling schedules, feeling they have no choice
Some groups draw controversy with rules that defy common sense
![Issues surrounding university academic clubs — including bullying and disputes over exit fees — are increasingly coming to the fore on campuses. [Created using ChatGPT]](https://wimg.heraldcorp.com/news/cms/2026/06/02/news-p.v1.20260601.e223c499ac66461a97ac63d5f4a0a207_P1.png)
By Jung Joo-won, The Herald Business
"These days, they say a regular club doesn't even count."
Career-linked academic clubs and project groups focused on consulting, marketing and finance have established themselves as "credential communities" on university campuses. They have grown beyond simple socializing or hobby activities into de facto employment infrastructure — places where students build job-market knowledge, forge industry networks and even land internship placements. But in the process, some groups have introduced rules that defy common sense, fueling growing controversy.
Reporting at major Seoul universities found that treating club membership as a baseline credential has become increasingly widespread. Kim, a fourth-year student in the media and communications department at Sungkyunkwan University, said, "Students these days think of business strategy or marketing clubs as a line on their résumé — everyone wants to be in one."
Jo, a second-year student at the same university, said he applied to a club to build his credentials after returning from military service. "The popular clubs have strong internal communities and good internship connections," he said, "and sometimes just being a member is enough to earn recognition in the industry."
Résumé over recreation: how career clubs took over campus life
Some career-linked clubs operate at an intensity that puts ordinary student organizations to shame. A member of a consulting club at a major Seoul university said the group meets an average of six to seven times a week. "On weekdays we'd go from 7 p.m. to 4 or 5 in the morning," the member said. "On weekends, from 2 p.m. to 11 p.m., and during vacation from 10 in the morning to 10 at night."
"The consulting industry relies heavily on closed hiring networks rather than open recruitment, so connections with seniors and access to inside information matter a great deal," the member said. "Experience at a top-tier club is treated as an almost essential credential."
A member of a consulting club at Yonsei University, identified only as A, said there are effectively no days off and that feedback from senior members creates constant pressure. "The main reason people join is networking — everyone in the group is aiming for the same industry," A said.
As the job market grows more competitive, students have largely come to accept this culture. Bae, a student active in an economics club at Sungkyunkwan University, said that among top-tier humanities clubs, a packed schedule is seen as proof of a well-structured program. "The corporate connections and the senior-junior community are strong, and ultimately it helps with getting a job — so people grit their teeth and stick it out," Bae said.
Scarier than the exit fee: the culture that makes leaving unthinkable
The deeper problem is that some career groups have developed distorted cultures — charging exit fees, introducing rules like public criticism sessions — that make it genuinely difficult for members to participate comfortably. What students say bothers them most is not the demanding workload itself but an atmosphere that makes leaving feel impossible.
A consulting club member at a major Seoul university said there is no formal exit fee, but leaving is unthinkable. "If you quit, the perception is that your reputation among seniors and alumni is ruined and it becomes hard to break into the industry," the member said. The member also described cases where students who requested a leave of absence for a study-abroad program were dropped from the club, as well as a culture of sending thank-you messages whenever a senior shows up and holding group dinners that stretch into the early hours of the morning.
Yang, 27, who participated in a corporate analysis club at a major Seoul university, said the desire to impress seniors leads to a lot of second-guessing. "After project presentations, even when I was worn out, I'd end up staying at a drinking session with alumni seniors until 4 or 5 in the morning," Yang said.
"Our club was so busy that taking a leave of absence was essentially an unspoken requirement," Yang added. "It was basically like giving up a year without pay, but there was a sense that if you didn't do it, you'd fall behind — so people pushed through."
There have been real conflicts as well. Jo, 25, a former official campus ambassador at a Seoul university, decided to quit a career group just two weeks after being accepted in 2023, concluding it was too difficult to manage alongside her studies.
"The president told me I was causing trouble and that I should write an apology letter and come to the auditorium," Jo said. "When I got there, every member was seated and I was made to stand alone at the front. The president publicly reprimanded me — saying I was an adult with no sense of responsibility and asking whether I felt sorry for the people who had failed the interview — and ultimately made me read a written self-criticism aloud." She added, "I was so humiliated I cried for a week. The classmates who witnessed it said they were too scared to ever think about leaving."
'Discipline is necessary' vs. 'Why does it have to go this far?'
Not all clubs operate this way. A significant number of students at Kwangwoon University, Yonsei University and Korea University said they had never encountered exit fees or forced penalties. Yoon, a fourth-year computer engineering student at Kwangwoon University, said, "If you leave mid-project, people might give you looks, but there's no actual penalty." Lee, a third-year student at the same university, said, "My teammates were worried about me, but there was pressure knowing these are people you'll run into again in the same industry."
Some students view exit fees as a reasonable safeguard. Jo, a former member of a club that once had a 300,000-won (about $199) exit fee policy, said mid-project departures affect the entire team's operations. "The fee was a mechanism to prevent irresponsible dropouts," Jo said. Even so, Jo acknowledged there was no legal enforcement and most members never actually paid. "The real problem isn't the exit fee — it's the reality that job preparation has become credentials for the sake of credentials," Jo said.
Bae said the club he is currently active in also has a 150,000-won (about $99) exit fee policy. "I saw one person quit — they just paid and left," Bae said. "Each person carries a significant role, and mid-project departures affect the team, so I think some kind of mechanism is necessary."
Do, 27, who participated in a sports marketing club, took a different view. "Even if a club operates abnormally, the structure is such that you ultimately have no choice but to join," Do said. "The feeling that you'll be the only one losing out if you don't is very strong." Do added, "You endure it because the output and internal networking are real."
Last year, a student at a project-based club in Seoul filed a complaint against fellow members on charges of joint confinement and joint intimidation following a dispute over leaving the group. Police closed the case without charges. Still, students say the pressure surrounding withdrawal is real. Yang Tae-jeong, a managing attorney at law firm Gwangya, said exit fees are in principle valid if members were informed and gave consent in advance, but added that what matters more than the amount is whether students can leave freely.
jookapooka@heraldcorp.com
