Table of Contents
Artificial Intelligence Translates the Language of Animals
Kim Kyung-jin, Attorney at Law
The Story of AI Learning to Listen to Whales, Dolphins, Birds, and Bees
Twelve chapters on how AI listens to dolphins, sperm whales, humpback whales, birds, and bees to find rules in their sounds, and what this technology means for its risks and for animal rights. Written in simple sentences a child can read, with verified sources in every section.
Table of Contents
AI Deciphers Ancient Scripts
Kim Kyung-jin, Attorney at Law
Ancient Records Revived by AI
In twelve chapters, this book explains how AI revives records once unreadable, from burned scrolls and wooden slips buried in mud to broken clay tablets. It covers virtual unrolling at Herculaneum, virtual collation of oracle-bone texts, reading Silla wooden tablets, computational analysis of undeciphered scripts, and multispectral archives, with verified references for each chapter.
Table of Contents
Artificial Intelligence for New Materials Design and Rocket Propulsion Engineering
Kim Kyung-jin, Attorney at Law
AI Potentials, Self-Driving Laboratories, and Physics-Informed Machine Learning (PIML)
Ten chapters on how artificial intelligence is changing new materials and rocket propulsion: atomic simulation, generative models, self-driving labs, high-temperature alloys, metal 3D printing, combustion, cooling design, and engine diagnosis and control. Written without equations, with verified sources in every chapter.
AI Library
The Age of Autonomous Scientific Discovery
Kim Kyung-jin, Attorney at Law
AI Scientists and Self-Driving Labs
This book follows how AI scientists and self-driving labs are changing the way science generates and verifies claims. It covers literature-based discovery, natural-language protocols translated into robot commands, multi-agent research systems, closed-loop laboratories, materials search, the verification gap, chains of evidence, research harnesses, journal ethics, and legal responsibility.
AI Library
A New Era of Life Sciences Opened by Artificial Intelligence
Structural Proteomics, Genomic Foundation Models, Autonomous Laboratories, and Global Governance
Kim Kyung-jin, Attorney at Law
This book is a research volume compiled with artificial intelligence. A human selected the materials and structured the work, while AI models drafted the sentences and cross-checked the facts.
AI Library
The Double Structure of Digital Sovereignty
Europe’s Departure from Palantir and the Chains of American Big Tech
Kim Kyung-jin, Attorney at Law
This is a record of 2026, when European intelligence agencies and defense ministries began removing analytics tools from America’s Palantir. It covers the replacement decisions made by France’s General Directorate for Internal Security (DGSI), Germany’s Federal Office for the Protection of the Constitution (BfV), and the Netherlands Ministry of Defense; the incident in which US export controls severed an ally’s ac…
New English Edition
Artificial Intelligence in Horticulture
Kim Kyung-jin, Attorney at Law
Across five chapters and ten sections, this book examines computer vision for crop diagnosis, harvesting robots and autonomous field systems, smart greenhouses and digital twins, precision irrigation and supply-chain quality control, high-throughput phenotyping, and predictive breeding.
New English Edition
Artificial Intelligence in Food Crop Agriculture
Kim Kyung-jin, Attorney at Law
Across six chapters and eighteen sections, the book examines digital agricultural infrastructure, remote sensing, crop diagnosis, yield forecasting, precision irrigation, genomics, molecular breeding, agricultural robotics, climate-smart agriculture, and global food security.
New English Edition
The Future of Forestry and Agroforestry
Kim Kyung-jin, Attorney at Law
Driven by Artificial Intelligence and Digital Innovation
Across five chapters and fifteen sections, the book follows satellites, drones, LiDAR, digital twins, forest-specific language models, wildfire and pest forecasting, forestry robotics, agroforestry, timber traceability, and forest carbon markets.
New English Edition
Smart Livestock Farming: AI Enters the Barn
Kim Kyung-jin, Attorney at Law
Sensors listen, cameras watch, and artificial intelligence helps farmers decide.
Across five chapters and fifteen sections, the book follows precision livestock farming from animal health and reproduction to robotic milking, virtual fencing, digital twins, methane reduction, welfare, and data ownership.
Table of Contents
Han Dong-hoon, Busan Buk-gu Gap: A Record of the 100 Days Before and After the Election (Mar. 26-Jul. 3, 2026)
Kim Kyung-jin
Table of Contents and 13 sections
From March 26 to July 3, 2026, this record follows the spring after expulsion, the Busan Buk-gu Gap by-election, victory as an independent, and the first bill submitted in the National Assembly.
Table of Contents
Artificial Intelligence and Medicine
Kim Kyung-jin, Attorney at Law
AI in clinical care, hospitals, education, and research
AI in medical imaging, risk prediction, treatment planning, hospital operations, education, and research, with patient safety, privacy, and accountability.
[AI Library] Chapter 22. What Leaders Who Changed Their Age Through People Left Behind
Politics and People
Chapter 22. What Leaders Who Changed Their Age Through People Left Behind
Kim Kyung-jin
Part 6: Back to the People
Chapter 22: What Leaders Who Changed the Era Through People Left Behind
On December 23, 1783, a short ceremony was held at the State House in Annapolis, Maryland. It was the moment when George Washington, the commander-in-chief of the Continental Army who led the Revolutionary War to victory, returned his military commission to the Confederation Congress.
In front of members of Congress and onlookers, Washington read a short speech. It contained words of gratitude for the officers who served with him, hopes for the nation's future, and respect for the authority of Congress. Witnesses recorded that Washington's hands trembled while he read the speech.
As the commander in his military uniform laid his commission on the table, people inside the hall were moved to tears. It is said that Washington himself wept. It was the tremor of a man laying down the immense weight he had carried while sharing life and death with his subordinates on the battlefield for eight years.
The reason this scene is historic lies not in what he did, but in what he did not do. The commander who led an eight-year war to victory did not use that military power to ascend to a throne. In the world at that time, it was the natural course for a war hero to maintain power with the military in hand.
Julius Caesar of Rome did so, Oliver Cromwell of England did so, and later Napoleon of France would do the same. Washington could have done so as well; the army was absolutely loyal to him. In March 1783, near the end of the war, officers stationed at Newburgh plotted a military coup to protest the non-payment of wages by Congress.
Washington appeared before the officers and calmed them with a persuasive speech. It is said that as he took out his glasses, saying, 'Gentlemen, you will permit me to put on my spectacles, for I have not only grown gray but almost blind in the service of my country,' the hardline officers burst into tears. Washington's influence was that absolute.
If he had wanted to be king, no one could have stopped him.
Instead, Washington returned to his farm at Mount Vernon, Virginia. He went back to the life of a farmer, plowing fields and tending to his vineyard. Upon hearing this news, King George III of Great Britain across the Atlantic reportedly said, 'If he does that, he will be the greatest man in the world.
' Even an absolute monarch was struck with admiration by the sight of a leader voluntarily relinquishing absolute power. Washington's choice, which even the absolute rulers of his day had to acknowledge, was a nearly unique instance of voluntary transfer of power in political history.
The outcome of Washington's voluntary return to private life was far grander than anything he would have gained by ascending the throne. The tradition of civilian rule took root in the fledgling republic of the United States.
The principle was established that the military obeys and elected civilians exercise power, rather than soldiers seizing it—all through the choice of one man. In all of American history since, no general has attempted to seize power by force.
This stands in sharp contrast to the numerous countries in South America, Africa, and Asia where military coups have been frequent and war heroes transformed into dictators. We know that South Korea, too, has not been free from this temptation.
Six years later, in 1789, Washington was elected as the first President with nearly unanimous support. Greater power returned to him precisely because he had not clung to it. The people were willing to entrust the nation to the man who had voluntarily laid down his sword.
After finishing two terms, he could have served a third, but he refused. He returned once more to Mount Vernon. This precedent led to the tradition of term limits for U.
S. Presidents, which was officially codified 150 years later in 1951 as the 22nd Amendment to the Constitution. One man's choice became a nation's Constitution.
The reason people gather around someone who knows how to let go of power is clear: it creates trust that they will not be consumed as mere tools. Around a leader who clings to power, everyone becomes a replaceable part used to maintain that power. The lifespan of such a part ends the moment its utility vanishes.
People who witness a leader using subordinates as shields to protect their position and discarding them once their value is gone work in fear that their turn will be next. Those who work in fear do only what they are told. Voluntary dedication disappears, and only face-saving remains.
Conversely, around a leader who knows how to relinquish power, people become colleagues working together rather than tools of the leader. A collegial relationship persists regardless of utility. The fact that people still seek out a leader even after they have stepped down is the true evidence of leadership.
How credit is shared reveals the caliber of a leader. Under a leader who says 'I did it,' members feel their contributions are not recognized. They stay up all night writing reports, tour constituencies on weekends, and block arrows of criticism with their bodies, yet at the press conference announcing the results, the leader stands alone before the cameras.
They can tolerate it once. They can understand it twice. By the third time, resentment builds, and by the fourth, their hearts depart.
As discussed in the previous chapter, people leaving is not an event that happens suddenly one day, but the result of layers of alienation and unfairness.
Under a leader who says 'We did it,' members feel like the protagonists of the victory. Who would leave a story where they are the main character? Washington's action in his Annapolis speech, where he first thanked the officers who fought alongside him, was the behavior of a man who had internalized this principle.
He attributed the credit for victory to his subordinates. During the eight years of the Revolutionary War, Washington experienced numerous defeats. He was pushed out of New York, chased from New Jersey, and during the harsh winter at Valley Forge, his soldiers walked barefoot through the snow.
Every time they lost, Washington took the responsibility upon his own shoulders. Instead of publicly blaming his subordinate generals, he requested support from Congress and revised his own strategies. Taking the blame for defeat while giving the credit for victory is easy to say but hard to practice.
The temptation to stand before the camera in the moment of victory is nearly instinctive. It takes willpower to overcome that temptation, step back, and bring one's colleagues to the fore.
Sharing credit also requires courage. Giving away part of an achievement one has built up in another person's name feels like one's own presence is diminishing. For a politician who needs media attention and must inform voters of their achievements, this is a painful choice.
Yet paradoxically, the more credit is shared, the deeper people's loyalty becomes, and that deepened loyalty returns as an even greater victory in the next election. The arithmetic that giving eventually leads to receiving more than one took holds true in politics as well.
True sharing of credit happens after the cameras are turned off. More important than the rhetoric at a press conference is the daily practice of whose opinions are reflected and whose merits are recorded in appointments, budget allocations, and policy-making processes.
People quickly see through a leader who says 'We did it' with their mouth but monopolizes the power of appointment. People are instinctively sensitive to detecting inconsistencies between words and actions.
Explicitly mentioning the name of the person who came up with an idea when adopting it in a meeting, detailing a staff member's contribution in an achievement report, and not omitting those who worked silently in personnel appointments—the accumulation of these small acts builds organizational loyalty.
A leader's way of relating to others creates a nation's political culture. Just as Washington's precedent of voluntarily returning power formed the American democratic tradition, a leader's attitude toward people determines the culture of that organization.
Under a leader who uses and discards subordinates as tools, a culture of trying to use one another as tools spreads among the members as well. They learn that stepping on the weak to climb up is the rule for success.
Under a leader who respects subordinates as colleagues and shares credit, a culture of cooperation and sharing grows naturally among the members. They come to recognize a colleague's success not as a threat to themselves, but as an asset for the entire camp.
The relationship style of a single party leader can change the culture of the entire party, and the relationship style of a President can change the culture of the entire government, and by extension, the political culture of the entire nation.
I reflect on why 'leaders who leave people behind' have been rare in Korean politics. It may be because the duration of power was short under the five-year single-term presidency. Since results had to be produced in a short time, there was no room to nurture people.
When their terms ended, most political leaders experienced a rapid decline in power, and the people by their side scattered. As this pattern repeated, short-term thinking took root in Korean politics: 'Power is seasonal, so you must use it while you have it.
' However, it is precisely that short-term thinking that turned people into tools and made politics shallow. Nurturing people with a long-term perspective and building relationships that endure even after power has vanished—that is the starting point for breaking this vicious cycle.
Korean conservative politics now stands before a time of bone-deep self-reflection. The destruction of the constitutional order through the declaration of martial law occurred in the name of conservatism, and the responsibility for that weighs heavily on the entire conservative camp. The way to escape this weight is not through new policies or a new image.
It begins with changing the way people are treated. The reconstruction of conservatism begins with the reconstruction of people.
It starts with making eye contact with each and every party member and listening to their stories. It starts with remembering the names of residents in one's constituency and asking after a mother who was said to be ill last time.
More than a grand declaration of vision, saying 'I will listen to your story' to the person sitting across from you is the first step of reconstruction. Grand discourses cannot open people's hearts; specific concern opens them.
Calling someone by their name, remembering previous conversations, and keeping what was promised—these small things accumulate to become trust. Just as Washington's one moment of honesty at Newburgh when he took out his glasses stopped a coup, a single sincere small action by a leader can change the direction of an entire organization.
For someone who has decided to be a leader who shares credit, I recommend a daily exercise: once a day, publicly acknowledge something someone in your camp has done well. If a fellow lawmaker's questioning in a plenary session was excellent, saying 'I heard your questioning today, it was great' in the hallway.
If the materials a staffer stayed up all night to prepare proved effective, mentioning their name and expressing gratitude on the spot. When such habits build up not for a day or two but for years, a thick layer of people who voluntarily dedicate themselves forms around that person. This layer is the very engine that pushes one all the way to the presidency.
The significance of titles like 'Party Representative' or 'Expelled' depends on what kind of people were by one's side and who remained during those processes. A politician's true asset is not the list of titles on their resume, but the number of people who come to visit even on nights when the phone doesn't ring.
The question posed in the prologue returns here: Who is left in your phone? Why did they stay?
Cao Cao turned enemies into allies by burning their secret letters to the foe. Mandela turned an enemy into a friend by inviting his jailer to his inauguration. Augustus invested 40 years in nurturing a successor, failing again and again, but eventually completed the peaceful transition of the empire.
King Sejong completed the Hunminjeongeum while leaving the protest memorials of opposing officials as a matter of record. Lincoln did not lose a general because he wrote letters of anger but did not send them. Washington gained greater power by laying power down.
There is one thread that runs through these stories: winning people is harder than winning power, keeping people is more precious than keeping power, and leaving people behind lasts longer than leaving power behind. Power is finite. A President's term is five years, and a party leader's term is two.
When that time passes, power shifts to someone else. But people remain. The memory of working together, the bond of overcoming a crisis together, and the thrill of sharing a victory together do not disappear when a term ends.
They become the nourishment for the next challenge.
In South Korea, politics that uses and discards people as tools has continued for a long time. A politics that wins people, keeps people, and leaves people behind must begin. There are eyes watching to see what choice is made by the person standing at that starting point.
Kim Kyung-jin
Attorney · Former Member of the National Assembly · AI Policy Researcher
© 2026 Kim Kyung-jin. All rights reserved.