The making of a North Korea expert: Smoke, mirrors, and speculation
Want to become a North Korea expert? Here’s the seven steps to follow
In the wild world of international affairs, few titles sound as alluring and mysterious as “North Korea expert.” But peel back the layers, and you’ll find that expertise in this niche space isn’t necessarily built on the hard labor of professional experience, solid education, or in-country experience. It doesn’t even depend on groundbreaking revelations.
Instead, it often thrives on a cocktail of guesswork, recycled talking points, and a sprinkle of doom-and-gloom predictions. And I’m not talking about the sudden pop-up North Korea experts - I mean the “this is my life” North Korea experts. So, what does it really take to become a North Korea expert? Spoiler: It’s not as complicated—or as credible—as you might think. Here’s the steps to follow:
Step one: Master the art of speculation
If there’s one skill that separates the wheat from the chaff in the North Korea business, it’s speculation. In the absence of reliable information, you’ll need to make some bold claims.
“Kim Jong-un is dead.”
“Pyongyang is collapsing.”
“The latest missile launch is a prelude to war.”
“We are closer to war than ever before.”
None of these statements need to be true—just plausible enough to spark media frenzy. Since no one can verify what happens inside the hermit kingdom, few will call you out when your predictions flop. And if, by some miracle, one of your wild guesses happens to align with future events? Congratulations, you're now a “visionary.”
Step two: Attend the conference circuit (and repackage old news)
If there’s a more reliable gig than being a North Korea expert, it’s being a North Korea expert at a think tank. You’ll find yourself flying to international conferences—held in places far more luxurious than Pyongyang—where your task is to repackage last year’s analysis for this year’s audience.
Same sanctions complaints. Same missile talk. Same “internal instability” theories. Just rearrange the PowerPoint slides and slap on a more alarming title: “Kim’s Nuclear Brinkmanship: The World on Edge?” Throw in a photo of Kim Jong-un looking serious, and you’re good to go.
The beauty of the conference circuit is that it reinforces the illusion of expertise without requiring much in the way of actual insight. As long as you use phrases like “maximum pressure,” “strategic patience,” and “denuclearization goals,” no one will question your authority. If your predictions don’t come true, don’t sweat it—just blame the opacity of the regime.
Pro tip: It pays to throw in a name or two in every conversation with an interlocutor at a think-tank conference. Like “A Chinese General told me…” or “A friend in the State Department…” or even better “Secretary Blinken said…”. I’ve actually heard two people talking to each other, both talking about what someone else said.
Step three: Leak some satellite images (preferably of trucks)
The gold standard of North Korea expertise is the satellite image. Can’t get actual eyes on the ground? No problem. Just show a grainy, high-resolution image of something—a truck convoy, an empty stadium, or smoke rising from a building. Now you’re in business.
“New construction detected at missile site,” you declare, even if it’s just another storage shed. The beauty of satellite analysis is that no one outside the geo-intel bubble knows exactly what they’re looking at. Could be a parade rehearsal. Could be a missile test. Who knows? Just call it “worrisome activity.” The more ambiguous the image, the better—it leaves room for interpretation, which is the lifeblood of North Korea expertise.
Step four: Play the defector lottery
Few things will boost your credibility faster than quoting a defector, preferably with a story that confirms the worst assumptions about the regime. The wilder, the better: secret executions, cannibalism, or plans to nuke Guam on New Year’s Eve. Even if the story is later debunked, it’s served its purpose—headlines were made, interviews were given, and you got to look concerned on camera.
It’s not that all defectors lie, of course, but verifying their stories is next to impossible. North Korea’s iron grip on information makes it the perfect environment for truth to mix with embellishment. A good expert knows how to harness these stories strategically—repeating the most sensational parts to Western media while sprinkling just enough caveats to dodge accountability when the facts fall apart.
Step five: Be scary (but not too scary)
To truly cement your status as a North Korea expert, you need to strike the right balance between fear and restraint. Be scary, but not so apocalyptic that people stop believing you. For example, don’t say, “The world will end next month.” Instead, try something like, “If we don’t act now, we could face devastating consequences in the near future.” It’s vague enough to be alarming, but just ambiguous enough to allow for wiggle room if things don’t pan out.
Punditry is all about riding the fine line between alarm and reassurance. Kim Jong-un needs to remain just dangerous enough to keep the funding flowing for think tanks and military contractors, but not so threatening that the public demands immediate war. A North Korea expert knows that the sweet spot is somewhere between, “They’ll never denuclearize” and “Diplomacy is still our best hope.”
Step six: Write a book with a menacing title
Sooner or later, every self-respecting North Korea expert writes a book. It doesn’t need to contain any groundbreaking revelations—just a few recycled interviews, some historical context, and the obligatory dramatic subtitle: “Inside the Kim Dynasty: Nuclear Nightmares and the Future of Global Security.” You’re not writing for posterity, after all—you’re writing to get on television. A book with a foreboding title guarantees you’ll be invited on news programs as tensions inevitably rise again.
Pro tip: Make sure the cover features a missile launch; a scowling portrait of Kim Jong Un; or rows of marching soldiers. Even if the contents are lukewarm, the imagery alone will sell the fear.
Step seven: Embrace the perpetual cycle of crisis and calm
The final lesson is simple: North Korea operates in cycles, and so do you. Crisis builds, missile tests happen, sanctions are tightened, talks begin, hopes rise, and then everything falls apart. Rinse and repeat. Your job is not to explain the cycle but to ride it, providing a steady stream of commentary with just enough gravitas to keep people listening.
The beauty of this cycle is that it ensures your job security. No matter how many peace summits are held or agreements are signed, North Korea will always be “on the brink” of something terrible. And as long as Pyongyang keeps launching missiles—or even just threatening to—you’ll never run out of material.
In truth, becoming a North Korea expert is less about expertise and more about performance. It’s about selling the illusion of knowledge in a space where genuine information is scarce. You don’t need insider access or on-the-ground experience—just the right mix of fear, speculation, and authority.
And the best part? You’ll never run out of an audience. The world is always ready to listen to the next grim prediction about the regime nobody understands. Because when it comes to North Korea, it’s not really about what we know—it’s about what we think we know, and the anxiety that fills the gap in between.