The author is an editorial writer at the JoongAng Ilbo.
The late Jeon Jung-yoon (1919-2014), honorary chairman of Samyang Foods, once described the pain he endured during the so-called beef tallow scandal. "It was agony to endure. I lost factories I had built over a lifetime and suffered damages worth hundreds of billions of won," he said in a media interview before his death 11 years ago. He spoke openly of the strain, saying it was severe enough to make him urinate blood. The scandal forced him to shut down production lines and let go of more than 1,000 employees. It left deep scars not only on him but on the country as a whole.

Earlier this month, Samyang Foods released a new instant noodle product, "Samyang 1963," meant to evoke memories of the company's first ramyeon product launched that year. The marketing tagline described it as "the first beef tallow ramyeon in 36 years." The launch date, Nov. 3, fell exactly 36 years after the day the 1989 scandal erupted. Tasting the ramyeon again brought back a mix of fondness and heavy reflection.
For younger generations the incident is unfamiliar, and even many older Koreans recall it only vaguely. On Nov. 3, 1989, the special investigation division of the Seoul Prosecutors' Office announced shocking findings. It said Samyang Foods and four other companies had used inedible beef tallow to make ramyeon and margarine, and detained 10 executives. Some of the companies soon went bankrupt. Others barely survived.
The narrative shifted in court. A lower court found the defendants guilty, but the appeals court acquitted them. The Supreme Court upheld the acquittal in August 1997, seven years and nine months after prosecutors' initial announcement.
The case remains a serious stain on the Korean press. Early coverage portrayed the companies as immoral producers of "industrial tallow" foods, fueling widespread panic and hammering sales. Then-Health and Social Affairs Minister Kim Jong-in said the products posed no harm to human health, but consumers refused to trust the reassurance. Competitors using vegetable-based oils enjoyed a surge in sales.
The problem began with the term "industrial tallow." The phrase implied that companies had used oil suitable only for machinery. In reality the correct term was "inedible tallow," meaning beef fat that the United States - the main exporter - did not classify as edible during slaughter. The label did not mean the tallow was unfit for human consumption after refinement.
Many food and livestock experts at the time said that once properly processed, inedible tallow could meet edible-grade standards. Shin Kwang-soon, a professor at Seoul National University's College of Veterinary Medicine, noted that second- or third-grade tallow could be refined to first-grade quality and used safely. Japan and European countries followed similar practices. The Supreme Court agreed, stating that the tallow in question had undergone food safety inspections by government agencies and was refined before use.
The press, however, inflamed public fear with provocative reporting. Park Sung-hee, a professor of communications and media at Ewha Womans University, said the episode reflected broader problems: the constraints of the pressroom system, imprecise language choices and a preference for conflict over nuance. These tendencies, she noted, extend well beyond food-safety reporting. As a journalist, I share the sense of remorse. The industry must ensure that such failures never happen again.

Jeon learned ramyeon-making techniques in Japan and introduced the product to Korean consumers in 1963, helping ease hunger during a time of widespread poverty. His role in establishing ramyeon as a staple - often called the country's "second daily food" - deserves recognition. Yet, society once branded him a producer of unsafe food, a charge that proved unfounded. That injustice remains regrettable.
Today, Korean ramyeon has become a global product. Behind that success lies the s...

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