King of Commerce, Yeonsan-gun ch.15
The Ministry of Taxation Isn’t the Only One Suffering
Officials at the Ministry of Taxation believed they were the most overworked in all of Joseon.
They weren’t entirely wrong. In Seoul, if you saw a worn-out, exhausted official, you could almost guarantee they worked for the Ministry of Taxation.
However, the other six ministries weren’t exactly enjoying a leisurely time either.
The Ministry of Personnel (Ijo) was struggling with the new recommendation system that the king had devised to replace the dismissed censors.
Implementing the king’s new system required far more preparation than anticipated.
In modern terms, they had to create electoral rolls, establish constituencies, and more.
There was some groundwork in place. The local gentry’s registries (hyangan) and local councils (hyanghoe) could serve as a foundation.
Kyung-sik had judged that these existing structures could be adapted to implement a system akin to parliamentary representation.
The regulations had been carefully drafted with this in mind.
However, centralizing and reorganizing these local systems from scratch was a different story.
Moreover, well-organized registries and councils were primarily found in the large inland towns of the southern provinces (Samnam).
Joseon had little interaction with coastal towns, where there were no notable local gentry, and the northern frontier regions were half-occupied by semi-nomadic Jurchens, with no settled gentry.
When officials pointed this out, the king was infuriated.
"Did you just refer to the ‘land of the founding king’ as ‘the land of the barbarians’?"
It was a well-known fact throughout Joseon’s history that the northern frontier had no local gentry, but saying anything that suggested "Yi Seong-gye wasn’t really a scholar-gentleman" in front of the king was tantamount to a novel method of suicide.
The king’s insistence to form councils in places without them, demanding local representation regardless, added more work for the Ministry of Personnel.
The king wasn’t entirely unreasonable. He proposed creating councils in areas lacking them by using the existing household registration systems, such as the Five Household Units (Oga-jak-tong) and the emerging district and village system (Myeon-ri-je), to establish election units and elect representatives (*1).
‘But Your Majesty! The theory is sound, but it’s us officials who have to do all this work!’
‘So what? If you’re not happy, you can be king.’
Ultimately, the king's offhand remark earlier in the year—‘Since it’s the agricultural off-season, we should get this done quickly’—could not be realized.
Some of the dismissed censors, especially those with weaker convictions but sharper instincts, were reinstated. The same censors the king had used as shields during Yun Eun-ro’s execution.
Minister Yi Geuk-don of the Ministry of Personnel racked his brains over the intricate details of the regulations laid out by the king.
'The local councils will elect representatives. Each district (Bu) will select four representatives, each sub-district (Mok) three, each county (Gun) two, and each township (Hyun) one. These representatives will then convene at the provincial governor's office on the day of the election...'
From the outset, the details seemed unusually comprehensive. It felt as if the king was implementing laws learned from somewhere else.
How could this young king know about such things? He claimed to have adapted the system from Han China's "Recommended Virtuous Candidates" system, which had some similarities. Still, it also involved further selecting representatives to conduct additional elections, differing from the Han system.
Moreover, the new currency laws the king was ambitiously pushing forward had no clear historical precedent.
Most officials couldn’t grasp the underlying principles, yet the system was working remarkably well. It was truly puzzling. (Even modern people struggle to understand the intricacies of credit-based money systems, like base money and open market operations.)
Asking the king how he came up with these ideas only led to the cryptic response, "If you understand the principles of governance, it all becomes clear."
You’ve been ruling for less than a year, though.
Yi Geuk-don recalled the thoughts they had when Yun Eun-ro was arrested.
‘This king resembles King Taejong!’
The posthumous title "Taejong" was bestowed upon rulers who, next to the founding king, established and fortified the nation’s foundations.
It seemed like the current king’s reforms aimed to rebuild the state from the ground up.
The Ministry of Rites (Yejo) was burdened with the education of officials and clerks.
"I have observed that officials, though they are scholars, do not understand arithmetic, and the clerks do not know accounting, making the Ministry of Taxation’s work exceedingly burdensome. The Ministry of Rites must address this."
They almost blurted out, ‘Your Majesty, it’s because you’re pushing reforms too quickly...’
In other words, the workload at the Ministry of Taxation had skyrocketed due to a lack of skilled manpower.
It’s not as though they hadn’t tried to address it. Historically, Joseon had more successful candidates than available positions, leading to severe overstaffing issues.
Hence, they created temporary positions known as Cheajik, where potential officials could rotate through roles to maintain their dignity.
The initial solution was to pull these temporary officials into full-time roles at the Ministry of Taxation.
These temporary officials were unexpectedly pleased with their new roles, feeling more like regular employees without the rotation.
The second solution involved bringing in candidates awaiting appointment. Many successful exam candidates spent their time as preliminary officials (Gwonji), organizing documents while waiting for a position.
However, their practical skills were lacking. Joseon’s scholars traditionally regarded technical knowledge and skills as vulgar, beneath their dignity.
This period represented the height of such disdain. The great scholar Kim Jong-jik, destined to be posthumously executed under Yeonsangun, had once been dismissed for arguing against practical training for scholars under King Sejo.
Consequently, these preliminary officials had almost no practical skills.
Frustrated, Kyung-sik simply threw these preliminary officials into the Ministry of Taxation as clerks, forcing them to learn on the job.
While this provided a temporary patch, it was a waste of talent to use even these temporary officials for low-level clerical work.
The bigger issue was the recruitment and training of skilled lower-level clerks.
Education fell under the Ministry of Rites' responsibility. Particularly, they were tasked with selecting clerks knowledgeable in law and accounting through the specialized exams of Yulhak (Law) and Sanhak (Accounting).
Kyung-sik hadn’t realized that lower-level clerks were recruited through exams, but he discovered there were such tests called Chwijae.
The problem was the lack of formal training programs for these exams. Training was either provided directly by the department or left to individuals, often resulting in hereditary learning.
The selection of clerk candidates was based not on ability but on forcibly conscripting older, unsuccessful students from local schools (Hyanggyo).
This process often brought in people who couldn’t even write properly.
The intention was likely to say, ‘Behave well if you don’t want to be dragged to Seoul for forced labor,’ but this approach was unsuccessful, only increasing the burden in Seoul.
As a result, most offices avoided using these conscripted clerks. Instead, they hired their own clerks from the fines collected from returned conscripts.
These hired clerks often came from the sajuin class and were typically untested.
Just like with Malttong, the servant of the corrupt noble Yun Eun-ro, powerful families educated their servants to become clerks. This arrangement provided a side job for them.
Clerks were poorly paid, if at all, with no prospects for promotion or integration into the gentry class, and no exams to advance. Hence, they were not dedicated to their work.
This situation led many low-level clerks to engage in double-dealing, working as sajuin while holding their official positions.
Therefore, despite the existence of the Chwijae system, the common perception that ‘clerks in Joseon were untested and hereditary’ wasn’t entirely inaccurate.
The solution proposed by the Ministry of Rites mirrored the historical response during this period.
"Offices should use conscripted clerks from the provinces rather than hiring private ones..."
The king’s eyes seemed to flash with anger.
Even King Jungjong had dismissed this reform as ineffective, questioning its feasibility (*2).
"...I don’t know."
Acknowledging their ignorance, they waited for the king’s next reform idea, which always seemed to follow such admissions.
"Hmm... What are the contents of the Chwijae exams?"
After bringing all the exam materials, the king sifted through them and then said,
"I’ll come up with a solution. You may leave."
They managed to avoid immediate punishment but had to brace for the upcoming workload.
‘So this is Joseon’s practical knowledge!’
Examining the law codes, report formats, inter-office communication templates, receipts, accounting methods, proper Chinese characters, Hangul, and classical texts, Kyung-sik’s view of Joseon broadened.
He was pleasantly surprised to find it far more sophisticated than he’d expected. Joseon wasn’t just about Confucian teachings.
'But compared to the 21st century... Even the senior clerks (Noksa) are at best at the level of a high school freshman.'
Noksa, despite being classified as clerks, held power comparable to second-ranked officials, quite high in the hierarchy.
They could even become district magistrates after passing the Chwijae exams, analogous to becoming mid-level government officials today.
By modern standards, if the education could be completed by the age of sixteen, a four-year curriculum starting at twelve could produce Noksa-level talents.
Given the time and resource constraints, this gap wasn’t surprising.
In medieval and early modern Europe, people graduated from law schools and became lawyers at around sixteen or seventeen.
Closer to home, during the 1950s in Korea, high school students were considered intellectuals and led student movements.
With this in mind, Kyung-sik reviewed the current education system in Joseon.
Joseon, despite being a Confucian state that revered learning, had a deficient public education system.
Had Joseon looked at militaristic Imperial Germany, they would’ve scoffed at the ‘barbarians,’ yet the Germans excelled in public education, an irony worth noting.
Even Imperial Germany, with its penchant for warfare, repeatedly lost wars it started, making it a country as contradictory as Joseon.
Currently, Joseon’s national education institutions, the Hyanggyo, admitted students under sixteen without set quotas.
For students over sixteen and under forty, there were quotas based on the size of the local district.
This age group’s military duty was exempted, filling the Hyanggyo with those avoiding conscription.
Feeding these slackers was a waste of rice.
The current system’s practice of drafting older, unsuccessful students from the Hyanggyo to serve as clerks could be slightly modified to gain the ministers' acceptance.
When the king announced plans to reform the Hyanggyo, the Ministry of Rites was excited, thinking, ‘Finally, the king is taking an interest in education!’
But then...
"The Hyanggyo will be dismantled."
The officials wondered if they had heard correctly or if the king misunderstood the word "dismantle."
They thought the king used the term too loosely. When words like "revolution" and "struggle" are overused, people assume, ‘Oh, that’s how they use those words.’
But it became clear that neither was the case when the king continued.
"Recently, the Hyanggyo has failed to fulfill its purpose. Instructors there are often unqualified, and students use it to avoid military service. Therefore, the Hyanggyo will be dismantled in all districts and counties."
The Ministry of Rites wanted to argue, but the facts were indisputable.
This wasn’t a recent issue; it had persisted since King Sejong’s time and wasn’t resolved even during the Confucian golden age of King Seongjong.
Kyung-sik’s solution was to focus and streamline efforts.
In Joseon, terms like ‘district’ (gun) and ‘county’ (hyun) often referred to small villages with populations of less than a thousand.
While a thousand people might constitute a thriving community in medieval Europe, Joseon’s urban development was minimal.
Most districts had only a few hundred people living within the walled town, with small hamlets scattered around the area.
In such places, establishing a full-fledged educational institution was impractical.
Hence, Kyung-sik proposed downgrading the goal for these small towns.
They would function more like elementary schools, teaching basic literacy and arithmetic. They would be renamed ‘Hakdang’ (academies).
Historically, local village schools (Seodang) served this purpose, but Joseon had yet to see the rise of the Seodang system. It would take several decades for the Sarim’s growth to establish these schools.
The instructors wouldn’t need to be high-ranking officials. The current system already appointed local degree holders (Saengwon or Jinsa) as Hyanggyo instructors, so that practice could continue.
For the larger districts (Bu) and counties (Mok), Kyung-sik proposed focusing resources there.
These would act as middle schools for brighter students from the smaller towns.
The curriculum would go beyond classical studies, including practical subjects like report writing (Jeseul), accounting and precise writing (Seosan), law (Yulhak), military science (Muhak), music (Akhak), and agriculture.
Given the current lack of funds, skilled teachers, and time, this intermediate level would be established only in major towns.
Students would be evaluated after two years. Those excelling in classical studies could go to Sungkyunkwan, while those proficient in military science would go to the military academy. Those who showed promise in neither would be trained in practical skills to become clerks or accountants.
Those failing all paths could return home to farm, as agriculture was considered the foundation of the state.
Why include music? To appease the officials, the king incorporated the classical "Six Arts" (Rites, Music, Archery, Charioteering, Calligraphy, and Mathematics). And having some entertainment in a dull era wasn’t a bad idea.
Unlike the current system, where even semi-literate individuals could scrape by, students failing the new criteria would be dismissed.
Conscription would end. Clerks would receive salaries. Joseon had long avoided spending money, relying on forced labor, but without pay, no one would stay.
As for the funding... well, the entire expansion of the Ministry of Taxation was aimed at raising more money, so they’d figure something out.
Minister Seong Hyun of the Ministry of Rites objected.
"Your Majesty! This will reduce the Hyanggyo to mere training grounds for clerks!"
Typical of Joseon’s literati, he didn’t contest the inclusion of music and agriculture (*3).
"Aren’t the Hyanggyo currently being used to conscript clerks from their student rolls? What’s the problem?"
I’ve seen the future. The Hyanggyo will eventually decline and be overshadowed by the Seowon. Might as well use them for something useful now.
Even with these changes, it would take time to fill the immediate need for practical clerks.
Thus, Kyung-sik utilized a trick only a future Korean military veteran would know.
In the military, earning certifications gets you leave.
The mandatory rotation every sixteen months would be waived if soldiers spent two months studying for a test and passed.
This could be done up to three times, totaling six months of accelerated learning sufficient for the clerk exams in accounting.
For efficiency, he revised the administrative formats. The ancient writing system (Idoo) used by clerks was abolished in favor of Hangul.
Clerks would only need to know basic Chinese characters frequently used in documents and names.
This practical, job-focused education was miles away from the Confucian ideals of moral education.
And indeed, the desire to reduce military service transcended time in Joseon.
Countless soldiers flocked to learn literacy, driven by the chance to shorten their service. Since there were no internet cafes, the Ministry of Rites had to provide the education.
The brightest aimed to pass the clerk exams. Becoming a clerk exempted them from military service and now included a salary.
The Ministry of Rites had to cram soldiers into the Four Branch Schools (Sabu Hakdang).
These previously underpopulated institutions were suddenly overflowing with students.
The startled instructors and professors appealed to the king.
"Your Majesty, while education should be impartial, how can we teach these common soldiers..."
"One more word of that nonsense, and you’ll find yourself working as a clerk in the Ministry of Taxation."
The Ministry of Taxation couldn’t understand why they were being treated like a place of exile.
The Ministry of Rites couldn’t fathom where the king got these strange ideas for new policies.
The Ministry of War (Byeongjo) wasn’t spared either.
In Joseon, the so-called infantry were essentially just laborers.
Managing military registers fell under the Ministry of War. With the increased construction of warehouses and ports, the need for labor grew, but an even bigger problem emerged.
The king ordered that all starving peasants be temporarily conscripted into the army for sustenance and work.
Joseon’s military registers had always been in disarray, but they were now rendered utterly obsolete.
(Kyung-sik planned to recompile the registers from scratch later, so he made this bold move.)
Officials screamed in frustration while soldiers worked tirelessly with shovels, but the king’s popularity among the troops soared.
This was because his second construction order was to build accommodations near the capital for the soldiers, providing them with a place to stay.
Typically, soldiers rotating to Seoul rented rooms at high costs.
Though supported by taxes paid by rural residents, the high cost of living in Seoul meant that soldiers struggled to survive on their stipends.
Building quarters for soldiers in Seoul was common sense to future South Korean soldier Kyung-sik. He repurposed land owned by the Internal Revenue Office (Naesusa) to provide housing for the units.
As all future South Korean soldiers know, raising soldier’s pay only increases the cost of living around military bases.
Providing soldiers with housing was the best solution, as simply giving them more money wouldn’t suffice.
The soldiers' daily necessities, such as food, clothing, and tools, were procured through unit funds and purchased at auctions.
It wasn’t intended as extraordinary welfare but rather as a necessity. Soldiers needed tools to work, and they couldn’t be expected to go naked.
Traditionally, labor conscripts in Joseon provided their own food and equipment, even paying for their own travel.
Thus, Kyung-sik’s reforms marked the highest level of military welfare in Joseon’s history.
In modern military terms, soldiers receiving housing, food, and clothing might still complain, but in Joseon, this was heaven.
It was so remarkable that while resting in the palace gardens, Kyung-sik heard wailing from outside the palace and inquired why there were mourning sounds in the city after the state mourning period for King Seongjong had ended.
It turned out that soldiers were weeping in gratitude for receiving their new clothes from the king.
When officials suffer, the people prosper. Even King Sejong agreed with this sentiment. It truly was a peaceful reign.
Footnotes:
*1: The proposed local self-government system based on the district system almost came to fruition during the Gabo Reform with the "Regulations for the Council" and "Rules for Managing Councils." Kyung-sik isn’t aware of this historical fact, but he’s utilizing the district system because it’s under development during King Seongjong’s era.
*2: This proposal appears in the Annals of King Jungjong, 33rd year, 8th month. Prime Minister Yun Eun-bo suggested it, but officials doubted its effectiveness, and King Jungjong himself was skeptical about clerks' integrity, questioning whether they would also be corrupt.
*3: Currently, Minister of Rites Seong Hyeon is a significant figure in traditional Korean music theory and a key author of the "Guide to Music Theory" (Akhak Gwebeom), a critical text in studying Joseon-era music. Kyung-sik doesn’t know this, hence his surprise at the lack of objection to the inclusion of music.
*4: In Joseon, military service was itself a form of tax. Soldiers were responsible for their equipment and travel costs. The reward system often involved acknowledging service periods as a form of compensation. For instance, the Great Code of State Governance (Gyeongguk Daejeon) awarded days of service for capturing wild animals, with rewards like 20 days for capturing a leopard in one strike and 50 days for a large tiger. This tradition of rewarding military service without monetary costs persists in modern times.
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