Pioneer: The problem with the republic’s new AI regulation lies not in ambition but in definition. — Unsplash
SPEED is usually a virtue in technology; however, it is often a liability in regulation.
Last Thursday, South Korea became the first country to enforce a comprehensive law governing artificial intelligence. But this may later expose an uncomfortable truth about regulatory first movers, who absorb the uncertainty others learn to avoid.
The Framework Act on the Development of Artificial Intelligence and the Creation of a Foundation for Trust is ambitious by design. It seeks to institutionalise trust as a growth strategy, not a constraint, by setting national standards for safety, transparency and accountability.
In doing so, South Korea has leapt ahead of larger economies that chose to pause, phase or dilute similar efforts. The irony is that a country long praised as a fast follower in technology has decided to lead where the rules are least settled.
The law establishes a National AI Committee and an AI Safety Institute; mandates watermarking of AI-generated content and introduces a new category of “high-impact AI” for systems deemed to significantly affect human life or fundamental rights. Healthcare, energy, finance and recruitment sit squarely within its scope.
Sensible in principle, these guardrails target risks such as deepfakes and algorithmic bias that have moved from theory into daily reality.
The problem lies not in ambition but in definition. “High-impact” is described in moral terms but not in technical or quantitative ones. Firms are told to comply without being told precisely when they fall under the strictest obligations. That ambiguity shifts regulatory risk onto businesses, forcing them to anticipate judgments made only after deployment.
For startups, that guesswork is costly. A survey by Startup Alliance found that only 2% of AI startups say they are prepared for the law’s enforcement. The remaining 98% either lack a response system or are unfamiliar with the details.
Early-stage firms lack compliance teams and legal buffers. If a model is later classified as high-impact or found to contain problematic training data, partial fixes are rarely possible. Retraining from scratch can erase months of work and exhaust limited capital.
Even a one-year grace period offers limited comfort. In venture markets, the stigma of potential noncompliance matters more than the timing of fines. A startup labelled risky, even provisionally, can see funding stall or partnerships evaporate. Large technology groups can absorb such shocks. Smaller firms cannot.
There is also a competitive asymmetry. Domestic companies are subject to direct corrective orders and investigations. Global platforms operating through local agents face looser, indirect enforcement. This creates a form of regulatory asymmetry, in which compliance burdens fall most heavily on the companies that Korea is trying to nurture.
International comparisons sharpen the concern. The European Union, having passed its own AI Act, delayed implementation to protect industrial competitiveness. The United States continues with sector- specific oversight guided by market practice. Japan has opted for voluntary, industry-led governance. Some Korean startups have already expanded operations there, attracted by predictability rather than permissiveness.
None of this argues against regulation. A legal vacuum would be worse. But predictability matters more than precedence ever will. During the one-year guidance period, the government should treat enforcement as a learning process, not a countdown. Industry-specific guidelines, clearer thresholds for high-impact classification and standardised compliance models for startups would reduce fear without diluting safeguards.
Regulation works best when it functions like infrastructure: firm enough to support growth, flexible enough to accommodate change. If Korea’s AI law becomes a rigid gate rather than a navigational signpost, its world-first status will end up as a case study in the costs of haste.
In AI, as in policy, credibility depends less on speed than on whether judgment keeps pace with it. — The Korea Herald/ANN
