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David D. Lee

Every year for the past three years, Edward Sugiana has made the same pilgrimage from Vancouver to a memorial hall on the southern fringes of Seoul that has become one of K-pop’s most sacred and sorrowful sites.
Inside a small private room, Post-it notes from fans cover the walls alongside flowers and photographs of the girl group Kara. Nearly seven years after her death, visitors continue to arrive to pay tribute to Goo Hara – a woman many never met, but whom thousands feel they lost.
“At the end of the day, she was just a human being who received abuse from people who didn’t even know her,” Sugiana said.
“She was thrown into a harsh and conservative environment where it often felt like nobody truly cared for her, not even the people managing her career.”
What kept bringing him back was pity, he said.
That sentiment, of grief shading into guilt, echoes across the global fandom communities still mourning the deaths of Goo, her close friend and fellow K-pop star Sulli and Jonghyun of Shinee, three of K-culture’s biggest names who were taken too soon.

Tinged with regret
When Goo, then 28, was found dead at her Seoul apartment in November 2019 after posting “Good night” on Instagram, fans across the world were stunned.
Just weeks earlier, Sulli, real name Choi Jin-ri, had also died by suicide.
The two women, who had been close friends, had both endured years of relentless online harassment over everything from their appearance and personalities to their relationships and private lives.
For Kawtar Bell, an Algerian superfan, the grief is still tinged with regret.
“I wish I had left her more messages of encouragement when she was facing so much hate,” Bell said of Sulli.
“Even now, it’s difficult to comprehend the amount of bullying she had to endure. What happened to her was deeply unfair and many people still feel nobody was truly held accountable.”

Two years before Goo and Sulli, Jonghyun died in a rented apartment in Seoul’s Gangnam district. In the years since, his song “Breathe”, written for singer Lee Hi, has taken on a new meaning:
It’s alright if you run out of breath
No one will blame you
It’s OK to make mistakes sometimes
Because anyone can do so
The idol factory
Goo debuted as a member of Kara in 2008, rising to fame on a string of hits such as “Pretty Girl”, “Honey” and “Mister” before building a second career as a solo artist and television personality in Japan.
Kim Jeong-seob, a professor of entertainment studies who became her mentor at Sungshin Women’s University, said Goo was among the most naturally gifted students he had ever taught.
“She had the qualities to become an icon of her generation,” Kim said. “Then one day, everything changed … It felt, in some ways, like losing a child of my own.”
A year before her death, Goo became embroiled in a highly publicised legal dispute with former boyfriend Choi Jong-bum following an assault at her home. The case escalated after Choi threatened to release an intimate video filmed without her consent.
But instead of rallying behind her, some of Goo’s fans began attacking her character, calling her “low quality” and questioning her private life with the same energy that had once fuelled her fame.
In May 2019, months before her death, she attempted suicide and was hospitalised.

“Today, major K-pop agencies offer counselling and mental health services, but those systems were far less developed back then,” Kim said. “Artists often had to rely entirely on the people around them.”
The K-pop industry has long prioritised output over endurance. Aspiring idols spend years inside highly restrictive trainee systems, often isolated from friends and ordinary adolescent experiences, their bodies and images meticulously managed before they even step inside a recording studio.
Once they do debut, the pressures only multiply. Intense fandom culture can blur the line between devotion and surveillance as large fan communities track celebrities’ every move.
And public adoration can quickly curdle into hate if a scandal emerges.
When Exo member Chen announced in 2020 that he would marry his pregnant fiancée, fans sent protest trucks to the group’s agency.
Last year, singer IU filed lawsuits against 96 people accused of spreading malicious rumours, including the claim that she was a North Korean spy.
“Fans can be incredibly supportive when a celebrity is succeeding,” Kim said. “But disappointment or controversy can quickly turn emotions hostile.”
“Most fans begin with good intentions, but crowd psychology, especially when expectations are not met, can sometimes trigger aggressive behaviour,” he added.

Some progress has been made. Hybe, the entertainment giant behind BTS, introduced the industry’s first in-house psychiatrist in 2024 and allows trainees to take extended mental health breaks.
Jeongyeon of Twice has taken multiple hiatuses since 2020 because of anxiety and physical health issues. Moonbin of Astro, who died by suicide in 2023, had previously paused activities citing health concerns – a reminder that even incremental improvements have not solved all the industry’s issues.
In the months after Goo’s death, South Korea’s largest search portal, Naver, shut down comment sections under entertainment news articles amid concerns about online abuse in a telling, if limited, concession to the scale of the problem.
‘A national tragedy’
The Korean entertainment industry’s crisis is, in many ways, a concentrated reflection of a broader national one.
South Korea has the highest suicide rate of all 38 member countries of the Organisation for Economic Cooperation and Development, with 29.1 deaths per 100,000 people in 2024, according to the Ministry of Data and Statistics.
Nearly 15,000 people died by suicide last year, making it the leading cause of death among South Koreans aged 10 to 49. Among those in their twenties, suicide accounted for 54 per cent of all deaths.
Many observers trace the problem to a culture of extreme competition born of academic pressure, economic insecurity and hyperconnected digital environments in a society that demands perfection.
Lee Eun-jin, a professor of social welfare studies at the University of Suwon and a chairwoman of the Korea Association for Suicide Prevention, told This Week in Asia that celebrities faced a “heightened risk of developing mental health conditions such as depression and panic disorder” because they were “pressured to present a flawless and ideal image to the public at all times.”
“The suicides of celebrities are considered one of the most significant predictors of suicidal ideation among South Korean high school students,” Lee said. “Fans who witness idols they deeply admire giving up on life can experience severe emotional trauma and psychological distress, which may in turn contribute to copycat suicides.”

Thankfully, there are signs of change. On Wednesday, President Lee Jae Myung described his country’s suicide rate as “a national tragedy” and “a global embarrassment”, calling for expanded prevention measures including more counsellors for the national suicide hotline and greater government investment in mental health.
Since taking office last year, he has pledged to reduce annual suicide deaths to below 10,000 within five years and to expand emotional and behavioural screenings in schools to identify at-risk individuals earlier.
South Korea saw a glimmer of progress in February, recording its lowest provisional monthly suicide figures for four years.
“Countries where national leaders have treated suicide prevention as a major policy priority and invested aggressively in support systems have generally seen suicide rates decline,” Professor Lee said.
For Sugiana, standing in that small, flower-filled room in Seoul, such statistics are both heartening and insufficient. The intensive K-pop training pipeline that produced Goo Hara remains largely intact, alongside the courts of online opinion and fickle fan culture.
“She was just a human being,” he said again. But the industry that made her a star had no system for saving one.
If you have suicidal thoughts or know someone who is experiencing them, help is available. In Hong Kong, you can dial 18111 for the government-run Mental Health Support Hotline. You can also call +852 2896 0000 for The Samaritans or +852 2382 0000 for Suicide Prevention Services. In the US, call or text 988 or chat at 988lifeline.org for the 988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline. For a list of other nations’ helplines, see this page.


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K-pop moved on from Goo Hara, Sulli and Jonghyun’s suicides. Fans never did

Tearful K-pop fans gather to mourn their idol at a hospital in Seoul in 2017. Photo: AFP

A portrait of the late K-pop star Goo Hara placed at an altar in a hospital in Seoul on November 25, 2019. Photo: AFP

Mementos and photos of Goo Hara at her memorial room in Gyeonggi province, south of Seoul. Photo: Edward Sugiana

South Korean pop star and actress Sulli at an event in 2015. She died four years later. Photo: AP

Tearful K-pop fans gather to mourn Jonghyun of Shinee at a hospital in Seoul in December 2017. Photo: AFP

South Korean singer and actress IU filed lawsuits last year against 96 people accused of spreading malicious rumours about her. Photo: Instagram

South Korean President Lee Jae Myung has called his country’s suicide rate “a national tragedy” and “a global embarrassment”. Photo: Korea Times

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Indonesian K-pop idol Carmen poses for photos alongside Indonesian President Prabowo Subianto and his South Korean counterpart Lee Jae Myung at a state luncheon in Seoul on April 1. Photo: Instagram/2_jaemyung

Pop superstar Taylor Swift performs during “The Eras Tour” at the National Stadium in Singapore in 2024. Photo: Getty Images for TAS Rights Management

K-pop band Day6 performs in Jakarta in 2019. Photo: YouTube/Day6

The opening ceremony of the 2018 Asian Games at the Gelora Bung Karno Stadium in Jakarta. The stadium has a maximum capacity of 80,000 people. Photo: Reuters

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Members of K-pop act BTS attend the 2022 Grammy Awards in Las Vegas. Photo: TNS

Girls’ Generation perform at an album showcase in Seoul in 2015. Photo: Multi-Bits/Getty Images

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NewJeans at the Billboard Women in Music Awards in Inglewood, California, in March 2024. Photo: Reuters

Min Hee-jin, the creative force behind K-pop group NewJeans, during a press conference in May 2024. Photo: AFP

Members of K-pop girl group NewJeans meet the press at the Central District Court in Seoul, South Korea, in March. Photo: EPA-EFE/Yonhap

NewJeans rebranded as NJZ amid the dispute with Ador and Hybe. Photo: Facebook/NewJeans

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Years after three high-profile K-pop suicides shook South Korea’s idol machine, the grief – and guilt – remains


Years after three high-profile K-pop suicides shook South Korea’s idol machine, the grief – and guilt – remains.


K-pop moved on from Goo Hara, Sulli and Jonghyun’s suicides. Fans never did

.css-1c6uqr6{color:inherit;font-weight:inherit;font-size:inherit;font-family:inherit;line-height:inherit;overflow-wrap:break-word;}Years after three high-profile K-pop suicides shook South Korea’s idol machine, the grief – and guilt – remains

Years after three high-profile K-pop suicides shook South Korea’s idol machine, the grief – and guilt – remains