When working at an American company, it's not uncommon to see a new employee raise their hand during a meeting and openly ask, "Why are we doing it this way?" They are just curious, but those observing might flinch slightly at that moment.

While everyone else nods in understanding, such a question would typically draw a look of disapproval in a Korean company, implying that the person is oblivious.

However, in the same situation in an American office, the response is quite the opposite. The boss might actually say it's a good question and thank them for asking.

When I first witnessed this scene, I was honestly a bit taken aback. I wondered why they would praise someone who couldn't read the room.

But as I spent more time in the U.S., I realized that this isn't just a personality difference; it's a fundamental difference in how cultures operate.

Anthropologist Edward Hall explained in his 1976 book, "Beyond Culture," that cultures can be divided into high-context and low-context. This concept is still frequently cited to explain differences in cross-cultural communication.

In low-context cultures, one must convey all their thoughts within their words. There is no expectation that the other person will infer the underlying meaning.

Conversely, in high-context cultures, meaning is hidden in the atmosphere, expressions, and relationships rather than in the words themselves. This is where Korea's concept of "nunchi" comes from.

According to Hall's classification, the U.S. is considered a typical low-context society, while Korea and other East Asian countries are classified as high-context societies. Japan and China are also categorized similarly, meaning that the concept of "nunchi" is not unique to Korea.

This difference is also clearly reflected in numbers. In cultural psychologist Geert Hofstede's individualism index, the U.S. scores 91, while Korea scores 18.

To think that one country can score so close to 100 while another is below 20 is quite astonishing.

A high individualism score indicates a society where it's normal to express one's thoughts clearly. It means that people do not expect others to pick up on their cues.

This is why American parents often ask their young children, "What do you think?" repeatedly. It's a different approach from the Korean style of parenting, where parents intuitively know what their child needs without being told.

In restaurants, children are encouraged to choose their own meals and to say no if they don't like something. It's rare for parents to guess their child's preferences and speak on their behalf.

Interestingly, the term "individualism" itself has a history. French political scientist Alexis de Tocqueville coined the term after traveling to America in 1831.

In his 1835 book, "Democracy in America," he described individualism as a phenomenon where people retreat into their families and small circles of friends, distancing themselves from the larger community.

What's interesting is that Tocqueville did not use the term in a purely positive sense. He warned that it could be a threat to democracy.

Now, nearly 200 years later, that very term has become a virtue in American society, which is quite ironic. I wonder what expression Tocqueville would have if he saw how the term is used today.

This difference leads to practical outcomes in everyday life. For instance, the culture of asking questions immediately when instructions are unclear is prevalent in American workplaces.

The Korean approach of nodding first and then discreetly asking a colleague later might seem frustrating and inefficient from an American boss's perspective.

The culture of personal responsibility, where it's up to the individual to understand, aligns perfectly with this low-context communication style. As a result, pretending to know something when you don't can come off as incompetent.

That said, it doesn't mean that Americans are rude or inconsiderate. They simply express consideration differently.

Here, respect is shown through verbal confirmation and acknowledgment. It's a different approach from expecting others to read between the lines.

In Korea, being called oblivious implies that one cannot navigate social situations, but in the U.S., it can be twisted into a compliment, suggesting that the person is confident in their opinions.

It's amusing how the same behavior can be viewed negatively in one culture and positively in another, highlighting the fascinating irony of differing cultural standards.

Seeing someone who was criticized for being oblivious in Korea receive praise for being assertive here shows that a person's fate can indeed change with time and place.

Of course, when you first start living in the U.S., it takes some time to adjust to this direct communication style. You might worry that openly expressing your opinions could come off as rude.

However, there comes a moment when this way of communicating becomes more comfortable. Asking questions directly when curious is much better for mental health than silently trying to read others' expressions.

That said, if this directness goes too far, it can lead to people speaking without consideration, so caution is still necessary. Neither being completely oblivious nor overly focused on others' cues is the right answer.

Nowadays, I follow the American style of asking questions clearly and speaking directly at work, while still being mindful of cues with family and close friends. It's a matter of switching gears based on the situation.

Living here has taught me that being called oblivious in Korea can sometimes be a weapon of trust in the U.S.