ABSTRACT
On a Saturday morning in November 2004, we entered a gray and sober conference room in Seoul, South Korea. We were tired, which was a direct result of jetlag combined with too much alcohol. Only a few hours ago, our client had dropped us off at the hotel after an exalting night of karaoke. A pastime that-for some of us-had felt like a severe punishment, but had been great fun for others. We were still joking about last night, assuming we would rapidly reach a favorable deal with our Korean client. Our Korean counterparts seemed, however, to have completely forgotten our night on the town together: they looked at us indifferently, and adamantly proposed conditions with which we could not possibly comply. We could hardly recognize our “friends” of last night. It turned out to be a difficult meeting. The price of our semiconductors seemed to be the only discussion point for this television set manufacturer. None of our concessionswhich grew in number as the day proceeded-seemed to raise even the slightest hint of enthusiasm. We began to believe that the word concession itself was nonexistent in the Korean language.
