Whenever we talk about Chinese food, the first thing that comes to mind is a sense of unease. This isn't just a baseless prejudice; given the incidents that keep occurring, one might think, "Isn't it normal to be suspicious of everything made in China?"

A prime example is the controversy that erupted in 2023 when a video surfaced showing an employee at the Tsingtao brewery in Shandong Province urinating on beer ingredients. The absurdity of this video sent consumers into a panic, leading to a boycott of Tsingtao beer.

The company claimed, "We produce separately for export," in an attempt to reassure the public. However, this statement only fueled further distrust. "If domestic management is this lax, how can we believe that export products are truly different?" Ultimately, it comes down to whether the company can be trusted, and once trust is broken, a few words won't restore it.

Interestingly, the market's reaction following the incident was immediate. The stock price plummeted, resulting in a loss of several hundred billion won in market capitalization within a day. This wasn't just a minor incident; investors interpreted it as a potential structural issue. Consumers felt the same way. Reports indicated that sales in Korean convenience stores dropped by 40%, showing that people weren't just complaining but actually closing their wallets. Brands like , , and filled the gap. Consumers are more rational than expected: "If it feels off, I won't buy it." That's the bottom line.

What's even more intriguing is the company's response. Initially, they suggested the possibility of video manipulation, implying that it could be fake due to today's advanced technology. While this isn't entirely incorrect, the timing was off. In a situation where people are already furious, saying, "The video might be fake" is essentially pouring gasoline on the fire. Only later did they begin an investigation, seal the ingredients, and detain the employee. It felt like the order of actions was completely reversed. Trust is determined by the speed and direction of the response, and they failed on both counts.

There's a more fundamental issue at play. This incident is not the "first time." The anxiety surrounding Chinese food is not a single event but a cumulative result. There have been multiple similar occurrences, such as the melamine milk scandal, fake cooking oil, and hygiene issues. Consequently, consumers develop a formula in their minds: "Here we go again." Once it reaches this point, it becomes a matter of national image rather than just brand reputation.

Ultimately, the key issue is structure. Factory management, personnel management, oversight systems, and internal culture are all interconnected. In this incident, they acknowledged that there were gaps in the management of ingredient transportation. In simple terms, it means that if someone is determined, they can create problems in such an environment. And it indicates that there was no system in place to prevent that. They announced plans to implement an AI monitoring system, but that feels like closing the barn door after the horse has bolted.

From a consumer's perspective, they will buy if they can trust the product. If they can't trust it, they won't buy it. The problem is that once trust is broken, it lasts longer than one might think. This is especially true for food. Unlike clothes or electronics, which can be replaced if they break, food goes into the body. Once a consumer thinks, "Is this really okay?" they are unlikely to purchase it again.

Thus, the notion that Chinese food is unreliable is not just an emotional response. It is the result of repeated incidents, delayed responses, and an inadequate system. And that result continues to this day.

In the end, it has been reaffirmed that trust takes a long time to build but can be shattered in an instant—a very obvious truth once again confirmed.