As I read the news about Legoland opening in Chuncheon, Gangwon Province ahead of Children’s Day, I realized how intricately two issues are intertwined: preserving historical sites and boosting the local economy. At first glance, it seems like a welcome development: a world-class amusement park on the beautiful island of Jungdo in Chuncheon, expected to boost tourism and revitalize the local economy. However, I learned that during the development process, a massive Bronze Age archaeological site was discovered—one significant enough to be considered for UNESCO World Heritage listing—and that there was fierce opposition from academia and civic groups determined to protect it. Ultimately, after hasty administration by the Gangwon Provincial Government and persistent lobbying by the developer—which included covering or deliberately damaging the site and relocating artifacts wrapped in plastic bags—Legoland opened its doors on May 5th this year, atop the Bronze Age ruins.

As is often the case with most news, by the time the general public hears about it, decisions have frequently already been made by those in power, entangled business interests, and a small, influential core group. It is an undeniable reality that when friction arises between real estate developers and regulatory agencies, development has often been forced through for the benefit of a few, even by mobilizing lobbying or bribes. For proponents of development, environmental protection or the preservation of historical sites are merely obstacles blocking their profits, and they have overcome these by any means necessary. Once development begins, it rarely stops midway or gets canceled. Ultimately, powerless civil servants or civic groups trying to uphold their conscience are forced to give up in the face of massive capital and greed. On one side, armed with the justifications of regional development and job creation, they fight for their very survival. On the other, facing them with nothing but a noble cause and personal conscience, and no compensation, the imbalance of power is devastating.

How can we explain to children that beneath the glittering plastic playground where families build happy memories at Legoland lie buried the traces of life, imbued with the breath of our ancestors? While perspectives vary—the unsuitability of the site selection, the unequal contract with the British operator, the controversy over high admission fees—I view this issue through the lens of ‘greed versus conscience’. It’s a structure where those who uphold conscience become the absolute underdogs. Had they accepted even a small benefit in exchange for turning a blind eye, their voices would inevitably have been silenced.

I too witnessed similar situations multiple times while working at a public startup accelerator. I struggled between the irresponsibility of thinking, “It’s not my money anyway, so why bother saving the budget?” and the cowardice of thinking, “Will the world change just because I oppose it?” Yet, the discomfort and fatigue that came with upholding principles and acting according to conscience were entirely my burden to bear. Standing against external pressure to do what is right is an ‘inner war’ fought alone, unknown to anyone. In this process, many become exhausted and demoralized. I am deeply concerned about the wounds this ‘real estate development cartel’—formed by politicians pushing unreasonable administration, contractors tainted by corruption, and opportunistic global corporations—will inflict on the citizens of Chuncheon and the Republic of Korea.