Korean decision-making is based often on rules of thumb, like respect for hierarchy or seniority. For example, being older is a significant advantage in Korea. I was once told about a fist-fight between two Korean men, going at each other viciously, when suddenly, the ID card fell out of one of their pockets. His opponent picked it up, only to find out that he’d been fighting against a person born a month earlier than him. He immediately bowed to his “senior” several times, expressing deep apology. The bow is an expressive tool of Korean hierarchy. I have seen Ivy League-trained mbas from abroad half-jokingly discuss the pecking order of executives in the Korean company that they had joined recently. “He is definitely below 60 degrees,” one would insist. “I think he is more like 30 degrees,” another would say with awe. The degrees refer to the angle of the bow. The lower the angle, the further you bow to that person in acknowledgment of their seniority! This respect for hierarchy is somewhat military in nature in that it fosters discipline without much scope for vigorous debate. But one could argue that it is this kind of discipline and fierce loyalty to Brand Korea which has led to world domination in electronics and several gold medals in the Olympics, although a Nobel Prize has remained elusive.