https://www.ilyoseoul.co.kr/news/articleView.html?idxno=514890
Mar 27 2026, 18:56 KST
In a previous column, I analyzed the put option ruling involving 25.6 billion won(Approx. 16.9 million USD), confirming the fundamental judicial principle that courts prioritize the commencement of actual execution over betrayal of the heart alone. At the time, the court firmly declared that former CEO Min Hee-jin's pursuit of independence could not be deemed a material breach of contract, flatly dismissing HYBE's claim for termination. This was a legal victory that made clear that a subjective collapse of trust cannot, in and of itself, constitute grounds for contract termination under the law.

Attorney Lee Je-nam, Law L Law Firm
Despite this, rather than engaging in self-reflection, HYBE has filed a lawsuit seeking an astronomical penalty of 43 billion won(Approx. 28.4 million USD), obscuring the core issues. In particular, the company has prominently advanced what it calls the "tampering" frame — the allegation that Min lured artists away from their agency behind its back and caused them to break their contracts. From a lawyer's perspective, this looks less like a case with solid legal merit and more like a classic example of strategic suppression litigation designed to socially bury the opposing party.
Accordingly, this article — as a continuation of the previous ruling — aims to analyze the legal hollowness of HYBE's claims and the evidentiary value of former CEO Min's decision to relinquish the payment.
The "tampering" that HYBE has put front and center is nothing more than an industry term with no existence under positive law. To use it as a meaningful weapon in court, one must clearly prove either tortious interference with contractual relations by a third party — specifically that former CEO Min concretely induced artists to wrongfully terminate their exclusive contracts — or interference with business operations. However, the court has already ruled that the circumstantial evidence on Min's side did not reach the stage of actual execution of a corporate takeover. Filing a new lawsuit wrapping the same evidence in the new packaging of "tampering" appears to be more a battle of public opinion than a case with genuine legal prospects.
Furthermore, the logic that automatically attributes the cause of an artist's loss of trust in their agency to illegal external inducement is dangerous. This is because it implies a perspective that treats artists not as autonomous persons but merely as appendages or passive assets of an entertainment company. The law does not force the mere formal maintenance of a contract; it strictly examines who bears responsibility for the breakdown of the trust relationship. If HYBE seeks to brand someone based on circumstantial evidence alone without clearing the wall of the burden of proof, this is highly likely to come back as a boomerang of false claims in court.
In cases of breach of fiduciary duty or corporate takeover, the key element to which courts pay the closest attention is the actor's economic purpose. Former CEO Min's sudden declaration that she would renounce the put option payment of 25.6 billion won — a sum she had a high probability of winning — is a decisive variable that shakes the very foundation of the breach-of-fiduciary-duty narrative that HYBE has constructed. The act of voluntarily relinquishing a confirmed claim worth hundreds of billions of won stands as powerful circumstantial evidence that her purpose was not economic gain through a corporate takeover, but rather to prove her innocence and protect the trust she shared with the artists.
The opposing side may interpret this as a strategic retreat to pursue greater future value, but from a judicial standpoint, the decision to renounce hundreds of billions of won in cash carries a sincerity more powerful than any legal argument. If anything, questions may be raised as to whether the judgment of HYBE's management — which pressed forward with litigation while ignoring opportunities for settlement that could have prevented massive expenditure — is consistent with the duty of care and loyalty that places shareholders' interests first. At a point where the motive for personal gain has disappeared, HYBE's offensive now risks losing its legal legitimacy and being perceived as emotionally driven retaliatory litigation.
Beneath the attacks on former CEO Min lies a massive collision between control over intellectual property (IP) and the creative autonomy of creators. Under the Commercial Act, a director bears a duty of loyalty to the corporation, but in the entertainment industry, the act of protecting the personal rights and creative value of artists — who are core assets — falls within the broader duty of care to enhance corporate value. Dismissing former CEO Min's conduct of advocating for artists' voices while calling for internal criticism and improvement as mere betrayal of the company is an excessively narrow interpretation of the role of management.
Disparaging the strong bonds she formed with the members of NewJeans as gaslighting or improper inducement borders on a legal insult to the partnership between creators and artists. The law does not ignore not only the wording of a contract but also the substance of the trust that contract seeks to protect. Even if the protection of artists' rights and interests appears to temporarily conflict with the company's interests, there is ample room for it to be interpreted from a long-term perspective as a legitimate act of defense to maintain the vitality of IP. The judiciary must judge sternly so that the logic of vast capital does not undermine the essence of creativity.
The recent statement issued by KEMA (Korea Entertainment Management Association) and other industry groups calling for the eradication of tampering directly violates the foundational judicial principle of presumption of innocence. The behavior of private organizations — which label a specific individual an enemy of the industry and call for their expulsion before a court has issued a final judgment — constitutes de facto private sanction, and in a nation governed by rule of law, this is a dangerous idea that is difficult to tolerate. What these groups call "industry order" is ultimately nothing more than the product of cartel thinking that entrenches the vested interests of large entertainment companies and suppresses the legitimate freedom of creators and artists to choose their careers and move freely.
The logic through which KEMA brands tampering as a serious crime that undermines the foundation of the entertainment industry is also more focused on emotional appeals than concrete legal grounds. The economic freedoms and right to self-determination guaranteed by the Constitution are values that rank above the interests between companies. The attempt by industry groups to represent HYBE's logic and drive collective public opinion is highly likely to undermine the independence of the judiciary. The judiciary must not be swayed by such external pressure, and must determine — based solely on evidence and legal principle — what constitutes truly fair competition for the advancement of the industry.