Jae-Hwan, a seasoned Korean businessman, had always been a private man. His smartphone, a sleek, modern device, was a testament to his success, but also a sanctuary, a digital diary of his life. It was there, nestled beneath the home screen,that he kept a cherished image: his five-year-old daughter, beaming with joy.
One evening, at a company drinking party, the conversation turned lighthearted. Laughter filled the air as colleagues shared anecdotes and inside jokes. But then, as the drinks flowed freely, a younger colleague, eager to impress, leaned in and pointed at Jae-Hwan’s phone. “Hey, is that your daughter? She’s really cute. Is that… is that pornographic?”
The room fell silent. Jae-Hwan’s face flushed with anger and embarrassment. He had never imagined that someone would make such a tasteless and offensive joke about his child. The colleague, realizing his mistake, stammered an apology, but the damage was done.
The incident lingered in Jae-Hwan’s mind. He thought about the recent news reports about deepfakes and digital sex crimes. The thought that his daughter, or any other child, could be a victim of such a heinous act filled him with dread. He vowed to be more vigilant, to protect his family from the dangers of the digital world.
As he scrolled through his phone later that night, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of sadness. The image of his daughter,once a source of joy, now carried a weight of anxiety. He knew he had to do something, not just for his daughter, but for all the children who might be at risk.
South Korea battles surge of deepfake pornography after thousands found to be spreading images
Comments