If you were to picture South Korea in 2026, your mind would likely conjure up images of a hyper-futuristic metropolis. You might imagine a society where robots serve your coffee, 6G networks are already in testing, and artificial intelligence manages everything from your daily schedule to your grocery shopping. You would not be entirely wrong. South Korea is, without a doubt, one of the most digitally advanced nations on the planet.
However, beneath this gleaming, high-tech surface, a gloriously odd paradox is unfolding. At the exact moment when the nation is spending unprecedented amounts of money on generative AI subscriptions, millions of young Koreans are actively seeking out the slowest, most analogue activities imaginable. They are ditching their screens to write out entire books by hand, lacing up their trainers to run in massive offline groups, and swapping digital planners for paper bullet journals.
This is not just a fleeting fad; it is a profound cultural shift. Let us dive into the fascinating numbers behind this paradox and explore why the world’s most connected society is suddenly craving the feeling of pen on paper.
First, the Numbers That Will Make Your Head Spin
To truly appreciate the scale of this paradox, we must first look at South Korea’s obsession with artificial intelligence. According to recent credit card data analysis by Hankyung Aicel, South Korea’s AI subscription payments surged by an astonishing margin in a single year. In January 2024, the monthly spend on AI services was KRW 3.4 billion. By December 2025, that figure had skyrocketed to KRW 80.3 billion — a rise of over 2,000% in twelve months .
To put that into perspective, South Koreans are now spending more money each month on AI subscriptions than they are on Netflix. The nation is officially hooked on the algorithm.
Yet, when the Ministry of Culture, Sports and Tourism analysed over 538 million pieces of big data from news, social media, and community platforms in late 2025, they uncovered a completely different narrative running alongside this AI boom . The data revealed a society simultaneously and desperately seeking offline, tactile experiences to counterbalance their screen-heavy lives. The two trends are not in conflict; they are, in fact, feeding each other.
So What on Earth Is Going On? Meet ‘Analogue Nostalgia’
How do we explain this contradiction? Sociologists and trend analysts have coined a term for it: Vicarious Nostalgia.
The generation driving this analogue revival — Generation Z and younger Millennials — did not actually grow up in an analogue world. They are digital natives who have had smartphones in their hands since primary school. They are not yearning for a past they personally experienced; rather, they are seeking a sensory richness and a sense of genuine presence that their digital lives simply cannot provide.
As a recent academic paper highlighted by Hankyung Business magazine points out, this ‘analogue nostalgia’ is a direct and logical reaction to digital fatigue . When your entire working day is spent staring at a screen, optimising prompts for an AI chatbot, the most luxurious thing you can do with your free time is something completely inefficient, tactile, and wonderfully slow.
| The Digital Reality | The Analogue Antidote |
| AI-generated text in seconds | Handwriting a single page over 30 minutes |
| Doomscrolling on social media | Reading a physical book in a quiet café |
| Virtual meetings and avatars | Sweating alongside 50 strangers in a running crew |
| Digital calendars and apps | Decorating a paper bullet journal with stickers |
The Pen Is Mightier Than the Prompt: Korea’s Handwriting Revolution
Perhaps the most striking example of this trend is the explosive popularity of Pilsa (필사), the Korean practice of copying out text by hand — passages from novels, poetry, song lyrics, or even the national constitution.
In 2016, the Kyobo Handwriting Contest — hosted by South Korea’s largest bookstore chain — attracted a modest 3,479 participants. By late 2025, that number had swelled to an incredible 75,000 entrants . That is not a niche hobby; that is a movement.
The publishing industry has scrambled to keep up with demand. Books specifically designed for Pilsa — featuring a printed text on the left page and blank space on the right for copying — have seen a staggering 692.8% increase in sales . One particular title, One Day One Page, sold over 250,000 copies in just six months after its release.
What started in 2024 as ‘Text Hip’ — the social media trend of looking effortlessly cool by reading physical books — has evolved into something even more deliberate, now dubbed ‘Writing Hip’. Young Koreans are finding that the slow, repetitive act of handwriting offers a form of meditation that no mindfulness app has yet managed to replicate. It is a digital detox that requires focus, patience, and absolutely no Wi-Fi connection.
Running Away from the Algorithm: The 10-Million-Runner Boom
If handwriting is the quiet, introspective rebellion against the digital age, the running boom is its loud, sweaty, and rather brilliant counterpart.
South Korea’s running population has recently surpassed the remarkable milestone of 10 million people . To accommodate this surge, the number of officially registered marathon events jumped from just 19 in 2020 to 254 in 2024 — an increase of more than 1,200% in four years . Outdoor running increased by 61% year-on-year, and even indoor treadmill usage grew by 64%.
But what makes this trend truly fascinating is not the running itself; it is the why. This boom is almost entirely driven by ‘Running Crews’ — offline, community-based groups that meet up several times a week to run through the streets of Seoul, along the Han River, and through the city’s parks. Participation in these offline running groups has quadrupled over the past year alone.
After years of pandemic isolation and the increasing normalisation of remote work, young Koreans are craving physical, real-world connections. They want to hear the collective thud of trainers on the pavement, feel the evening breeze on their faces, and share a post-run drink with actual human beings — without a screen in sight.
Notebooks, Vinyl, and the Analogue Bag: The Bigger Picture
This analogue resurgence is visible everywhere you look in Korean consumer culture. The stationery market is booming, with online lifestyle retailer 29CM reporting a 74% year-on-year increase in sales of diaries, designer notebooks, and premium fountain pens . The Seoul International Book Fair recently saw 150,000 tickets sell out in record time, resulting in lengthy queues and ‘open runs’ — the Korean term for queuing at dawn to be first through the doors — just to get inside a bookshop.
Interestingly, this is not an exclusively Korean phenomenon. Global media outlets, from The Guardian in the UK to CNN and Forbes in the United States, have all declared 2026 as the year of the ‘analogue comeback’ . The Guardian recently highlighted the rise of the ‘analogue bag’ — a trend where people deliberately pack their bags with crosswords, knitting projects, and novels instead of chargers and tablets, specifically to prevent doomscrolling during commutes and evenings out .
What makes the South Korean case so uniquely compelling, however, is the sheer intensity of the contrast. It is the juxtaposition of a society that is simultaneously building the future of artificial intelligence while desperately clinging to the comforting friction of the past. It is a country that spends more on ChatGPT than on Netflix, yet also fills stadiums with people who simply want to write things down.
What This Means for the Rest of Us
If you are planning a trip to South Korea, this cultural paradox offers a brilliant opportunity to experience the country in a way that goes far beyond the usual K-Pop concerts and high-tech tourist trails.
Instead of just visiting the futuristic Dongdaemun Design Plaza, take an afternoon to wander through the vast Kyobo Book Centre in Gwanghwamun Square. Pick up a beautifully designed Korean notebook and a proper fountain pen. Spend an evening walking along the Han River and watch the hundreds of running crews dash past in their matching kit. Sit in one of Seoul’s independent cafés and try Pilsa for yourself — copy out a passage from a Korean novel and see if it does not slow your mind down in the most satisfying way.
South Korea’s analogue paradox teaches us a genuinely valuable lesson. Technology, no matter how advanced or intelligent, cannot replace the fundamental human need for tactile experiences and genuine, offline connection. Sometimes, the most revolutionary thing you can do in an AI-driven world is simply to pick up a pen.
Have you noticed a similar analogue revival in your own country? Or have you ever tried Pilsa to clear your head? We would love to hear your thoughts in the comments below.
References
[6] Chosun Ilbo. “10 Million Runners Boost Run-Trip Market Growth.” April 20, 2026.
[7] The Korea Times. “Korea’s running trend shows no signs of slowing in 2026.” January 2, 2026.
[9] Forbes. “2026 Signals the Return of Analog Living in Fashion.” January 11, 2026.
[10] CNN. “Tired of AI, people are committing to the analog lifestyle in 2026.” January 18, 2026.