At South Korean construction sites, old problems are resurfacing in new forms, sparking heated debates about safety, labor practices, and the future of an industry that once powered the nation’s economic miracle. On April 13, 2026, reports emerged that the controversial practice of 'monthly fees'—separate payments demanded by tower crane operators—has made a comeback after a brief disappearance following government crackdowns in 2023 and 2024. These payments, known as 'wolryebi,' are not part of official wages but are often required by operators who quite literally hold the keys to progress at building sites. If their demands go unmet, work can slow to a crawl, with some operators engaging in 'work-to-rule' slowdowns, according to JoongAng Ilbo.
Subcontractors, already squeezed by rising raw material and labor costs, find themselves reluctantly handing over several million won each month just to keep projects on schedule. And the demands don’t stop there—additional payments are often required at each phase of construction, compounding the financial strain. As one site manager put it, "We have no choice but to pay, or the whole project grinds to a halt."
Labor unions, including some of the country’s largest federations, have ramped up protests, pressuring subcontractors and site managers to hire more union members. Sometimes, these disputes escalate into violence between rival unions, a phenomenon that has been identified as a major driver of what’s been called 'construction site violence.' The resurgence of such practices is widely attributed to a near-absence of government crackdowns on illegal union activities—ranging from bribery and obstruction to forced hiring—after a period of intensified enforcement in previous years.
Complicating matters further, the implementation of the so-called 'Yellow Envelope Law' and recent labor commission decisions have empowered subcontractor unions by recognizing their right to bargain separately. This has amplified union voices at construction sites, making it even harder for employers to navigate the complex web of demands and obligations. As JoongAng Ilbo notes, "The return of these outdated practices is worsening difficulties for construction companies already suffering from rising costs and market instability, threatening housing supply and driving up both construction times and expenses."
But labor unrest and financial headaches are only part of the story. The construction sector is also facing a crisis of safety, with South Korea recording the highest fatal accident rate among the top 10 OECD economies as of 2025. According to Professor Moonseo Park of Seoul National University, who also chairs the Korea Construction Safety Society, the industry’s fatality rate per 10,000 workers is the worst among its economic peers. Park’s recent opinion piece in JoongAng Ilbo pulls no punches: "Construction safety is no longer just an industrial issue; it’s a matter of national concern."
In an attempt to address this grim reality, the government introduced the Serious Accident Punishment Act in January 2022, targeting management with stiff penalties for workplace fatalities. Yet, the law’s rigid, punishment-centric approach has not yielded the hoped-for results. "Despite positive changes in safety awareness, the number of victims has actually increased since the law was enacted, with no meaningful change in fatalities," Park observes. Companies, faced with the threat of criminal prosecution for their executives, have diverted resources from improving safety systems to mounting legal defenses. The result? A regulatory regime that may be making things worse for both safety and business viability.
Now, a new Construction Safety Special Act is making its way through the National Assembly. Modeled on British regulations, the proposed law would require risk elimination from the earliest stages of design and obligate clients to secure adequate time and budget for safety measures. Park, however, is skeptical about its chances of success in the field. "Laws and regulations must be reasonable to gain consensus and practical acceptance in the industry," he writes. "No client would risk up to seven years in prison to undertake a construction project."
The core of Park’s argument is that safety culture—not just punishment—must underpin any legal framework. He draws an analogy to the introduction of school zones with strict speed limits, which initially met resistance but ultimately changed driver behavior and reduced accidents. "The key lesson from school zones is prevention over punishment. The focus should be on compliance with regulations, not just on outcomes," Park insists. In construction, that means holding both managers and workers accountable for safety, rather than placing the entire burden on management. "A system that only punishes managers cannot change the safety consciousness of workers, which is the biggest factor in accidents."
These themes echoed through the halls of the National Assembly on April 13, 2026, at a public hearing on the pending Construction Safety Special Act. Hongseop Ahn, Honorary Chairman of the Korea Construction Safety Society, delivered a stark reminder: "While legislation was delayed, 1,864 more workers lost their lives." Ahn pointed out that construction workers, who make up less than 7% of the workforce, account for 40-50% of all fatal workplace accidents—earning the industry the grim moniker of 'murderous companies.' Over the past decade, the accident death rate per 10,000 workers has improved by a meager 0.3% annually, barely budging from 1.58 in 2016 to 1.54 in 2025, according to Labor Today.
Ahn argues that current laws fail to properly assign responsibility to project owners and do not fairly distribute accountability among all participants in construction projects. The proposed law seeks to rectify this by clearly defining the obligations of clients and supervisors, and by establishing a comprehensive safety management system covering every stage of construction—from planning and design to completion and demolition. "It is more efficient to normalize the unfair responsibility structure with a special safety law than to revise all existing laws," Ahn explained.
Not everyone is on board. Representatives of the construction industry, such as Younghee Kim of the Korea Construction Association, have called for a focus on prevention rather than punishment and for the relaxation of harsh penalty clauses. Kim specifically objected to a provision that would impose a fine of up to 3% of a company’s revenue for accidents, arguing that such penalties could threaten business survival in an already difficult economy. Other experts, like Sung-ho Hong of the Construction Policy Research Institute, have requested the withdrawal of the bill, citing concerns about overlapping regulations, the difficulty of objectively determining fair construction costs and timelines, and the risk of excessive punishment.
Despite the controversy, the legislation has been formally introduced by lawmakers from both the Progressive Party and the Democratic Party, reflecting a broad political consensus on the need for reform, even as the details remain fiercely contested.
The South Korean construction industry, once the pride of the nation, now finds itself at a crossroads. With outdated labor practices reemerging, safety laws struggling to gain traction, and new regulations looming, the sector faces tough choices. As Professor Park cautions, "The journey forward requires balance—between managers and workers, enforcement and prevention, and systems and culture." Only by restoring that lost equilibrium, he argues, can South Korea hope to transform its construction sector into a true global leader in safety and innovation.