What Coronavirus taught South Korea About Air Quality

Can there be a new normal?

Soren Jarabelo
GREEN HORIZONS
6 min readApr 27, 2020

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The Hwang Sa, or “yellow dust season,” has been a natural phenomenon the Korean peninsula has been familiar with for thousands of years. Sands picked up in March by strong winds out of the Gobi Desert in Northern China and Mongolia find their way into the air of major South Korean cities such as Seoul, Daegu and Busan. With the modernization that has swept through Asia over the past several decades, the sands and winds now carry with them familiar pollutants: pesticides, bacteria, heavy metals, and, yes, viruses.

This pollution has played a significant role in why yellow dust season has become increasingly dangerous to human respiratory systems affected by the winds. Koreans have pretty much adapted to the seasonal winds, though. In fact, before the pandemic, it was common for people to wear masks during Yellow Dust season to avoid damage to health and skin.

The arrival of SARS-CoV2, or COVID-19, coincided with the onset of the dust season this year. Reports indicate, though, that the quarantine and stay-at-home orders put in place to limit the spread of illness have also limited the impact of The Hwang Sa. In South Korea, the normal amount of fine dust in the air (inhalable particulate matter, referred to as PM10) is typically classified as unhealthy in these major cities at 81 to 150. After months of most people staying home, however, the measurable fine dust in the air dropped to good and moderate levels, which range from 0 to 35 PM10, according to the Korea environment corporation.

Korea’s Fine Dust level prior to COVID-19 outbreak
Air Quality Index of Seoul as of April 2020

For the rest of the world this may seem insignificant as South Korea generally only produces around 1.69 percent of the world’s carbon emissions. However, big cities in developed countries around the world, such as Los Angeles and even Beijing, China, are seeing a similar phenomenon. As soon as cities went to shelter-at-home to combat the disease, air quality improved rapidly and dramatically. People could actually see this change happening in front of their eyes. It’s been widely reported that improved air is a potential silver lining of the pandemic — almost a wake up call that not all hope is lost to help the environment.

Although it will be difficult to maintain our clean air as life returns to normal and people get back in their cars and on planes and factories gear back up, the rapid improvement in air quality in this short time shows that even small changes can impact the environment as a whole. We now know that Earth does not waste a second when it comes to cleaning itself. The question remains whether we will take advantage of this reprieve after quarantines have been lifted.

In Apgujeong-Dong, a part of the infamous Gingham district, right in the heart of Seoul, pollution is not news for me, my family and friends. In years past, it has seemed almost as if the environmental issues that come with modern society would never go away. Seoul is a city that never sleeps and the average resident spends a good deal of time commuting by subway, taxis, and buses. I got used to not seeing the sky — that’s how I measured how bad the pollution was.

This changed with the arrival of Covid-19. As soon as life in Seoul started to slow down with more and more people staying at home, the major changes in air quality were not just visible on weather apps and news networks where qualified people give the daily yellow dust measurements and pollution indexes, but also with my own two eyes. For once, I was able to experience the true ambiance of springtime, where the air is fresh, the sky is blue, and the weather is good.

It was a shame that a mask still had to be worn, but, on the bright side, the intentions of the mask were no longer to protect ourselves from dangerous air quality, but rather to protect ourselves and others from a less-visible enemy.

I arrived back in Seoul when South Korea was at the tail end of its fight with the coronavirus and life was slowly returning to a measure of normalcy. Seoul, which accounts for around 25 million people, is the biggest city in South Korea, but it was not the hardest hit city by COVID-19. The city of Daegu, which recorded the country’s first case, was also the hardest hit. It is located around 150 miles south of Seoul and is one of the largest cities in Korea.

A friend who has lived in Daegu his whole life, describes Daegu as a “mini Seoul.” People there are constantly on the move, and, as with Seoul, you can go outside even at 3 a.m. and find that people are just ending their days or getting them started. Daegu is also accustomed to air pollution. As soon as the outbreak occurred, my friend said Daegu turned into a ghost town. Walking home on Dongseongo, a famous shopping street, on the last day of classes before school went online, he observed that there was no one out walking. Nothing like that had been seen the Korean War.

Supermarkets and convenience stores were sold out of almost all instant noodles, as people feared a lock down. However, among all of these sudden and dramatic changes, like in Seoul, the most noticeable change was in the environment. The once grey sky with barely any visibility had turned clear, revealing a a spectacular view of the Palgongsan and Apsan mountains which my friend, who lives in the center of the city, can’t ever recall seeing at this time of the year.

With many cities reporting zero new cases of coronavirus, life in Korea has been returning to normal, though social distancing should still be prioritized for safety. This raises the question of what sort of “normal” we want to go back to. Are we satisfied with our previous normal or are we ready for a new normal in which we take action to help the environment since we now know that it is possible?

This raises the question of what sort of “normal” we want to go back to.

According to an article by Beth Gardiner for National Geographic, as people get back to the daily grind of life — using cars, factories reopening — it is likely the poor level of air quality will return. She even goes as far as to say that it could even get worse than before. According to the article, the air quality in China is already returning to what she calls, “its pre-coronavirus range.”

Lauri Myllyvirta, the lead analyst at the Center for Research on Energy and Clean Air in Helsinki, isn’t overly optimistic that we will hold onto our improved air quality. Myllyvirta is concerned that countries will try to make up for lost economic time by ramping up construction projects and factory output. She sees “a worrying hint that air quality could end up worse than before.”

Here in Seoul as more and more people have been going out, I’ve noticed that the sky is not as blue as it was during quarantine, but it is still not as bad as it was before. This is reflected in the air-quality measurements that show good and moderate fine dust and evels have been maintained over all. Maybe in our improved air and the newly revealed vistas we’ve seen glimpses of a better world we can return to when we go back to “normal.”

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