Where Was Cinderella’s Prince?

Subway arson, elderly men, and the emotional embers beneath Korean society

Footage from Seoul’s recent Line 5 subway arson attack showed a woman slipping to the floor as the carriage erupted in panic, losing her shoe in the scramble, as others surged past her to safety. No prince to the rescue, and certainly no white horse!

But just as Cinderella falls, we see the suspect crouching to ignite the slippery accelerant he had thrown across the carriage floor, with several able-bodied men within reach of intervention, one even colliding with the fire-starter. And yet, in that split-second decision, faced with a 67-year-old, slower, but clearly dangerous man, they chose flight over fight.

Some of those men may later reflect on what they could have done differently, but are such thoughts unfair burdens? Korea already has many fallen heroes, soldiers, firefighters, police, and citizens, who ran toward danger and never returned. We did not need more that day. What matters is that no lives were lost.

Arson is a violent, often desperate act, driven by rage, hopelessness, or financial ruin, sometimes all at once. It is not just about destruction, but a symbolic attack on perceived injustice or failure. The recent subway attack appears to stem from anger over a divorce settlement, reawakening painful memories.

On March 18, 2003, Kim Dae-han, a 56-year-old former taxi driver, ignited flammable liquid on a Daegu subway after expressing despair over his medical care. The fire spread rapidly. Ironically, the 192 victims were not on his train, but on another that entered the burning station.

That tragedy exposed fatal gaps in emergency response which led to criminal convictions. But lessons were learned, and as such no one died in this most recent attack, or in a similar 2014 case, when a 71-year-old man set fire to a Seoul Line 3 carriage. His motivation; an unjust court financial decision awarded him less than the amount he believed he deserved.

These three subway cases; Daegu 2003, Seoul 2014, and Seoul 2025, (will we see another in 2036?) involved elderly men, aged 56 to 71, each nursing grievances. Depression and a sense of abandonment may have played a role.

They each chose accelerants. Each attacked during the morning rush hour, between 8:45 and 10:55 a.m., when trains are densely packed, stations are at peak activity, and emergency response may be slowed by rush hour traffic.

These hours offer the highest visibility and psychological impact, suggesting the perpetrators deliberately chose times not only to maximise fear, but to be noticed, because each offender seemed to be shouting the same message: “I will be heard.”

Financial collapse can also drive arson, particularly among older people with little time left to recover from loss. In 2023, nearly 11% of Korea’s 1,081 arson arrests involved people aged 65 and over. Of the 117 elderly suspects, 99 were men, a statistic that challenges common assumptions about who commits this deeply emotional crime.

Arson patterns in Korea tend to rise and fall with the emotional and economic temperature of the country. Between 2013 and 2017, arson cases steadily declined, likely reflecting a period of relative calm; economic recovery from the global financial crisis, job stability, and minimal civil unrest. But through 2017 and 2018, arson cases rose sharply. That spike coincided with political upheaval during the Park Geun-hye protests, a slowing economy, surging household debt, unaffordable housing, and growing elderly poverty; conditions that fray mental resilience.

After a COVID-era lull in 2019–2020, possibly due to lockdown restrictions, arson surged again in 2021. Post-pandemic exhaustion, job losses, and social isolation hit the elderly and working-class hardest, stirring desperation in the very groups most represented among arsonists.

Recent unrest under President Yoon, including mass protests and economic downturn, may have set the stage for another rise in arson. In late 2024 and early 2025, consumer confidence fell, household debt remained high, and political tensions deepened, echoing past periods when emotionally driven arson cases spiked. If history is a guide, the next data set may reveal a similar surge.

But data doesn’t capture the fear felt in a burning subway car, deep underground. As Cinderella lay on the floor, shoeless and alone, the flames weren’t the only thing about to close in, so too was the question of what kind of society we become, when no one reaches back to help.

Anthony Hegarty MSc

The Korean version of this article appeared in the Maeil Shinbun Newspaper (print edition) on 10th July 2025

[앤서니 헤가티의 범죄 심리 - 인사이드 아웃]신데렐라의 왕자는 어디에 있었을까? - 매일신문