A rare win for Asia’s LGBTQ community started with a health insurance mix-up

“We didn’t realize your partner was also a man," the caller told Kim.

Nullifying the same-sex couple’s health insurance set off a multiyear legal saga that produced a landmark victory last month for Kim and So—and South Korea’s LGBTQ community, which won its first-ever legal recognition by the government. The high court’s chief justice called the rescinding of health benefits an act of discrimination that “violates human dignity and value."

South Korea has artificial intelligence pop singers, robot baristas and drone deliveries. Despite those modern flourishes, the country lags far behind other wealthy democracies on LGBTQ rights. Same-sex couples can’t legally marry; civil unions are nonexistent. Just one in eight South Koreans say they even know someone who is gay or lesbian, recent polling shows.

Many LGBTQ individuals in the country are closeted, condemned and censored. A recent Human Rights Watch report that documented the frequent bullying experienced by South Korea’s sexual minorities was titled: “I Thought of Myself as Defective."

Now, many supporters of the LGBTQ community hope the ruling could open the way to more rights—even same-sex marriage. Courtroom victories elsewhere in the past have served as steppingstones to marriage equality, including the U.S.

Kim, 34 years old, and So, a year younger, became rare public faces for LGBTQ causes. They hail from the same small town just outside Seoul and work as LGBTQ activists, with their Seoul apartment decorated with rainbow flags.

“Hiding my identity was never an option for me," So said. “I knew it wouldn’t be easy but I never doubted that we would win this case."

The Supreme Court’s recent ruling applies to joint health coverage, though is likely applicable to a wider range of government services and entitlements, South Korean lawyers and activists say.

Once courts provide same-sex couples the protections afforded to married households, the argument against marriage equality for LGBTQ individuals becomes increasingly difficult, said Ryan Thoreson, an assistant law professor at the University of Cincinnati focusing on human rights. Furthermore, the more visibility LGBTQ couples have in society, like Kim and So in South Korea, the more accepting the public becomes of such causes, he added.

“The public storytelling around these cases is essential for non-LGBTQ people to understand what’s at stake," Thoreson said, who is also a specialist on LGBTQ rights for HRW.

‘Can I love you?’

Kim and So met in 2012 at a local district office’s architectural department, while completing alternative military service to comply with South Korea’s mandatory conscription for young men. The military has a law that bars same-sex relations. Men can opt out of traditional service for personal, political or religious reasons. After meeting So, Kim came to the realization that he was bisexual.

The two became a couple over drinks. Unable to summon the right words as the discussion turned toward a potential relationship, Kim asked So to give him a call. The phone buzzed. A ballad began playing with the lyrics, “The door opens," the song went, “Can I love you?"

Kim admitted he spent three hours searching for the right ringtone song. So was the first man he ever loved.

“Not my first," So said, with a smile.

So was the one who proposed, at their shared home in Seoul, belting out “The Day I Got Drunk on Love," a song he had composed himself. “A person I shouldn’t love, I thought I would be your misery," So sang as he proposed.

Despite same-sex marriage not being recognized in South Korea, the two threw a large wedding in 2019. It was just like any other wedding, the couple explained, meant to emphasize that same-sex unions are just like heterosexual ones. Around 300 people watched as the two men walked together down the aisle.

So’s father had been opposed to the wedding, saying he would rather the couple “live quietly." Kim’s mother and sister also refused to attend the ceremony.

For their honeymoon, Kim and So went to Spain—a place they chose after seeing it atop a global ranking of the world’s most LGBTQ-friendly countries. The two walked by numerous rainbow flags at the pride parade at a Spanish resort town. A firetruck came out in support and sprayed water on the attendees. They frequently held hands in public, something they rarely do in South Korea. They saw two men kiss in front of the train station.

Kim and So recalled being stunned that nobody else seemed to stare or care. “We were the only ones who found it strange, so unfamiliar," Kim said.

Gone in two hours

Kim was aware that the South Korean government afforded some healthcare benefits to unmarried, heterosexual couples living together. He decided to test the boundaries by declaring So as his spousal dependent in 2020.

Lawmakers have made nearly a dozen attempts to pass an antidiscrimination bill since 2007. Each has failed. The most vocal and influential resistance has come from conservative Christian groups, which hold sway with both of South Korea’s major political parties.

Among 38 members of the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development—a grouping of mostly wealthy nations—only South Korea and Japan lack such legislation.

More than 35 countries have legalized same-sex marriage since the Netherlands first did so in 2001, including the U.S. in 2015. Progress has been slower across Asia, limited to Taiwan, Nepal and most recently Thailand, whose law will take effect in the coming months.

Just two-fifths of South Koreans support same-sex marriage, according to the Pew Research Center. That is lower than the Asia-wide median of roughly 50%, Pew said.

Days after applying for the joint coverage, Kim and So looked in awe at their online health-insurance account. Next to So’s name describing his relationship with Kim was the word “spouse."

This saved them about $25 a month in insurance costs and offered the first government recognition that they were a family.

Things went smoothly for eight months. But after granting an interview with local media in October 2020, where Kim and So sought to inform other LGBTQ couples of the benefits, problems emerged. The resulting headline read: “Did the National Health Insurance Service Recognize a Same-Sex Couple as Spouses?"

Two hours later, the cancellation call came.

“If they hadn’t recognized our relationship in the first place, I wouldn’t have cared so much," Kim said. “But I felt that they were suddenly taking away our rights."

Brothers, friends or a couple?

Within months, in February 2021, Kim and So filed a lawsuit against the national health insurer. The proceedings unfolded over three trials over the next three years, ending with South Korea’s Supreme Court.

During the first trial, both took the witness stand. So recalled one judge remarking that heterosexual couples can have children and asking a pointed question: “How would one know whether you two are brothers, friends or a couple?"

That district court sided with South Korea’s national health insurer. But in early 2023, an appeals court ruled in Kim and So’s favor.

The national health insurer’s appeal escalated the case to the Supreme Court. On July 18, the court ruled in Kim and So’s favor. Their joint coverage has since been reinstated.

The morning after the victory, So called his parents. For the first time, his father congratulated the couple, saying he was happy for them.

Days later, So and Kim headed to Germany for vacation. There is a sense of liberation when they are in LGBTQ-friendly countries, the couple said, but leaving South Korea permanently isn’t an option. They know that of the few benefits afforded to LGBTQ couples in Korea, they themselves have added one.

“I’ve thought about living in another country," So said. “But it’s worth it to stay and change things here."