On the windswept coast of Samcheok, South Korea, a new coal-fired power plant looms above a beach once made famous by a K-pop album shoot. The 2.1GW Samcheok Blue power plant, which came online in January 2025, is expected to emit a staggering 13 million tonnes of CO2 each year, potentially operating well past the country’s self-imposed 2050 carbon neutrality deadline. It’s a striking symbol of the contradictions facing Asia’s fourth-largest economy as it grapples with climate change, energy security, and a host of domestic challenges that threaten to reshape its future.
Despite South Korea’s international pledges—to slash emissions 40% from 2018 levels by 2030 and achieve net zero by 2050—its energy mix is still overwhelmingly reliant on fossil fuels. According to The Guardian, coal and gas generate 60% of the nation’s electricity, while renewables account for just 9%, a quarter of the OECD average. This heavy dependence on fossil fuels has left South Korea among the world’s top ten climate offenders, even as it touts its technological prowess in semiconductors and electric vehicles.
The nation’s struggle to transition to clean energy is rooted in its postwar economic model. State-owned Korea Electric Power Corporation (Kepco) and its subsidiaries, such as Korea South-East Power and Korea Western Power, dominate generation, transmission, and distribution, creating a near-monopoly that stifles competition and innovation. As The Guardian reports, renewable energy developers have faced a bureaucratic maze—until recently, windfarm projects required 28 separate permits from various ministries, causing years of costly delays. While a bill to streamline approvals was finally passed in early 2025, it won’t take effect until 2026, and grid expansion remains mired in local opposition and conflict.
“We fully acknowledge that renewable energy transition requires transmission lines,” said Kim Jeong-jin of Friends of the Earth in Dangjin, where a project languished for over a decade due to local pushback. “But the repeated conflicts arise because the electricity is not even for local use, yet it causes damage to our region without any regard for our voices.”
South Korea’s energy strategy is still guided by a centralized, top-down model dating back to the 1960s, designed for large-scale coal and nuclear power. This approach, critics argue, is fundamentally incompatible with the decentralized, flexible nature of renewables. Political volatility only worsens the situation: each five-year presidential term brings policy reversals. President Moon Jae-in’s 2017 nuclear phase-out was scrapped by his successor, Yoon Suk Yeol, five years later, undermining long-term planning and investor confidence.
The consequences of this inertia are stark. After Russia’s invasion of Ukraine sent global energy prices soaring, Kepco’s losses mounted—South Korea paid an extra 22 trillion won (£11.9 billion) for LNG in 2022 alone. Yet, electricity prices remained artificially low due to political pressure, pushing Kepco’s debt to a jaw-dropping 205 trillion won (£111 billion) by 2024, as noted by The Guardian.
Meanwhile, powerful chaebols—family-run conglomerates like Posco, Samsung, and Hyundai—exert outsized influence on national policy. Their operations, which include steel, shipbuilding, and semiconductors, demand vast amounts of cheap, stable electricity. As Professor Park Sangin of Seoul National University put it, “This structural dependency on heavy and chemical industries makes the energy transition extraordinarily difficult.”
South Korea’s climate contradictions extend beyond its borders. The country is a leading financier and builder of fossil fuel infrastructure worldwide, dominating the global market for LNG carriers and bankrolling overseas projects like Mozambique’s Coral Norte gas field, projected to emit nearly half a billion tonnes of CO2 over its lifetime. Even the National Pension Service, one of the world’s largest pension funds, only finalized its coal divestment strategy in late 2024, with domestic implementation delayed until 2030.
Market-based climate policies have also fallen short. The emissions trading scheme (K-ETS), launched in 2015, was intended to put a price on carbon. Instead, it’s handed out free allowances to the country’s biggest polluters. According to campaign group Plan 1.5, South Korea’s ten largest emitters have earned over 475 billion won (£258 billion) from selling unused carbon credits between 2015 and 2022—a system that “was meant to make polluters pay has instead rewarded them.”
All this is playing out against a backdrop of mounting climate disasters. In 2023, floods killed 46 people and displaced thousands. More recently, torrential rains claimed at least 26 lives, followed by a record-breaking heatwave. In March 2025, wildfires swept across more than 48,000 hectares, killing 31 and destroying thousands of homes. South Korea’s disaster chief described the situation as “a climate crisis unlike anything we’ve experienced before,” while Prime Minister Kim Min-seok called it “the new normal.”
Yet, amid the gloom, a new generation is fighting back. In February, a group of children—including 11-year-old Yoohyun Kim—gathered outside Posco’s Seoul office to launch a groundbreaking lawsuit. Their aim: to block the relining of an old coal-fired blast furnace that would extend its life by 15 years and emit 137 million tonnes of CO2. “Spring and autumn are disappearing with climate change—and with them, the chance for children like me to play freely outside,” Yoohyun told supporters. This case follows a crucial 2024 constitutional court ruling that found the government’s climate policies violated the rights of future generations by failing to set binding targets.
Elsewhere, activists and residents have filed suit against the world’s largest semiconductor cluster in Yongin, backed by a 360 trillion won (£195 billion) Samsung investment, arguing that its 10GW electricity demand and new LNG plants contradict both climate regulations and corporate sustainability commitments.
Despite these challenges, the government maintains it is making progress. “South Korea is actively pursuing bold reduction of coal power generation through prohibiting new permits for coal power plants and phasing out ageing facilities,” the environment ministry said in a statement. Any remaining coal plants operating beyond 2050, they argue, will be addressed through “carbon capture and storage technology and clean fuel conversion” in a way “not inconsistent with our carbon neutrality commitment.”
But independent experts remain skeptical. Professor Park’s research using the Global Change Assessment Model suggests the current plan will miss South Korea’s 2030 emissions targets by 6-7%. He notes, “The Basic Plan has no specific plan for how to expand renewable energy. There are vague targets, but no timeline, no locations. In stark contrast, the nuclear roadmap is extremely detailed and specific.”
Back in Samcheok, activist Eunbin Kang reflects on the struggle ahead. “I dream of a society where exploitation and plunder are replaced by decentralisation and autonomy,” she says. “I want to contribute to spreading lifestyles and policies that allow everyone to lead a good life without requiring a lot of electricity or money.”
As South Korea faces a shrinking military, a deepening drug crisis, and the existential threat of climate change, the choices it makes in the coming years will determine not just its energy future, but the health and wellbeing of generations to come.
