No society can escape sharp clashes of interest as it grows. Disputes over major issues directly tied to a community's future — university mergers, consolidation of resources — tend to cut deeper than simple disagreements, leaving rifts that are difficult to heal.
The current debate over the merger and resource allocation involving two universities in the proposed Jeonnam-Gwangju integrated special city is no different. Each institution advances its own history, rationale and the aspirations of its members as justification for its position. To side with one is to impose a sense of loss and grievance on the other that would be very hard to bear.
Both universities are invaluable assets that have long supported the cultivation of regional talent and intellectual life.
That is precisely why neither side should be made to suffer a unilateral defeat or loss through this merger process. Yet the moment of decision is drawing near, and the weight of that responsibility rests heavily on the shoulders of both universities' presidents.
The presidents charged with this task are only human — they cannot escape the expectations of those inside their institutions or the scrutiny of those outside. The moment one side is chosen, the other is left with a wound that cannot easily be undone, and that wound could become a serious obstacle to genuine cooperation between the two universities even after the merger is complete.
Resolving this dilemma requires, first and foremost, a painstaking effort to produce a balanced set of proposals. In any university merger, a skewed distribution of resources, authority and key institutional placements will doom the process to failure.
The stakes are high across the board — from the administrative core of the main campus to the medical school, which is central to regional healthcare, to the various colleges that form the backbone of each university, including those in the humanities, social sciences and engineering. Regional political voices have added further complexity to an already intricate equation.
Both universities must therefore put forward a range of proposals for distributing the placement and authority of the main campus, the medical school and other colleges in a balanced way, and pool their collective wisdom. The goal is to craft a carefully designed, neutral set of proposals that leaves neither institution feeling sidelined. Whichever option is ultimately chosen, both sides must be able to genuinely accept it and build on it together.
The problem is that even after such balanced proposals are drawn up, the two sides will still face a final question: which proposal to adopt. A winner-take-all approach decided by marginal differences may give the victor a sense of legitimacy, but it offers the losing side only injury and grounds for non-acceptance.
The question — "What did we lack that we were pushed aside?" — will inevitably fuel emotional conflict, generating a prolonged backlash of grievance long after the decision is made.
When the limits of human judgment and the burden of political pressure reach their peak, the best way out — one that leaves no wounds and allows all parties to accept the outcome — is a lottery.
If both universities complete a balanced merger proposal through thorough mutual consultation, one that everyone can agree to, then the wisest approach to selecting the final plan from among those proposals is to leave the choice to a draw.
A lottery eliminates any room for self-interest, political calculation or bias. Because the outcome is determined by chance, the losing side can accept the result without feeling it was found wanting — and with no one to blame, the wounds between the parties are kept to a minimum.
The establishment of a medical school alongside the university merger is a long-held aspiration not only of the two universities but of South Jeolla Province as a whole. Such opportunities will not keep presenting themselves, and time is short. A medical school is the decisive prize — and the opportunity — that the Jeonnam-Gwangju integration can deliver.
Beyond that, it would serve as a springboard for the universities to become true regional anchor institutions, joining the national initiative to create 10 universities on par with Seoul National University, and a prime opportunity to train specialized talent for the renewable energy, semiconductor and AI industries, as well as the relocation of secondary public institutions to the region. A successful university merger, I am convinced, will be a powerful catalyst for regional renewal and revitalization.
What the presidents and members of both universities need is the courage to acknowledge the limits of human decision-making, and the humility to accept the outcome of a process built on thoroughly prepared proposals. I strongly urge both sides to draw up balanced proposals covering the main campus, the medical school and all other colleges — and then make the final choice through a fair lottery.
sij@heraldcorp.com
