91 years, and still teaching people how to be happy. Read his book last year and gave it to my mother.
Their story
Rhee Kun-hoo, also known in Korean as Lee Geun-hoo (이근후), was a South Korean psychiatrist, emeritus professor, mountaineer, medical volunteer, and late-life bestselling essayist. He died at his home in Jongno-gu, Seoul, on 21 September 2026, aged 91. Family members said he passed around 10:10 p.m. that evening. Over six…
Rhee Kun-hoo, also known in Korean as Lee Geun-hoo (이근후), was a South Korean psychiatrist, emeritus professor, mountaineer, medical volunteer, and late-life bestselling essayist. He died at his home in Jongno-gu, Seoul, on 21 September 2026, aged 91. Family members said he passed around 10:10 p.m. that evening. Over six decades he helped reshape Korean psychiatry, carried medical care into remote Nepal for more than thirty years, and, after retirement, became one of Korea's most widely read writers on aging and everyday happiness.
He was born in Daegu in 1935, in the final years of Japanese colonial rule. Childhood brought war and upheaval: World War II propaganda schooling, liberation in 1945, and then the Korean War, which bankrupted his father's food business and uprooted the family. He later recalled volunteering to move the bodies of South Korean soldiers laid out near his school. An uncle was abducted by North Korean forces; other relatives died in fighting; a cousin was among civilians killed in the Geochang massacre. Those early losses marked him, yet he refused to treat life as only tragedy.
He graduated from Gyeongbuk High School and Kyungpook National University College of Medicine. As a university student in 1957 he co-founded the Gyeongbuk Student Mountaineering Federation, remembered as Korea's first student mountaineering group, with Kim Ki-moon. In 1959 he helped organize a national 60-kilometer endurance climb on Palgongsan. Cave exploration followed at Seongnyu Cave in Uljin and Gwaneum Cave in Gangwon. Mountaineering remained a second vocation beside medicine.
In the April Revolution of 1960 he joined pro-democracy protests against the autocratic government of Syngman Rhee. Newly married and working as a doctor, he was imprisoned for about ten months for that activism. The record blocked study abroad and ordinary hiring paths. He later served three years as an army doctor after a political amnesty cleared his record and made him eligible for conscription. Psychiatric hospitals, then often harsh asylums, were among the few places willing to hire him. That "last resort" became his life's work.
From the 1970s he pushed Korean psychiatry toward more humane care. In 1974 he proposed psychodrama therapy to playwright Oh Young-jin, an early Korean trial of the method. As head of neuropsychiatry at Ewha Womans University he opened what sources describe as the nation's first open psychiatric ward at a time when restraining patients to beds was still common. He taught neuropsychiatry at Ewha from 1973 to 2001, served as president of the Korean Neuropsychiatric Association (1990-1991), and helped establish the Korean Academy of Psychotherapy. Over roughly fifty years of practice he was reported to have seen on the order of 100,000 to 150,000 patients.
A 1982 Himalayan academic expedition to Makalu deepened his bond with Nepal. Spending months with a Sherpa guide between about 4,000 and 5,000 meters, he studied local culture and returned determined to serve. Beginning in 1989 he organized the Ewha Medical Service Team for Nepal, traveling each winter to remote villages. He continued after retirement, helped build a hospital in Dolakha, and earned the popular nickname "Schweitzer of Nepal."
In 1995 he and his wife, sociologist Lee Dong-won (an Ewha emeritus professor), founded the Family Academia corporation for counseling and education across generations. After retiring from Ewha in 2001 he wrote more than thirty books. His 2013 essay collection "I Want to Have Fun Till the Day I Die" (also rendered "I Want to Live Enjoyably Until I Die") sold hundreds of thousands of copies in Korea. Later titles included guides to happy aging and relationship essays. His English-language breakthrough, "If You Live to 100, You Might as Well Be Happy," translated by Suphil Lee Park, reached readers in many countries. At 76 he became the oldest valedictorian in Korea Cyber University's cultural studies program. Near the end of his life his eldest son, astronomer Myung-Hyun Lee, compiled "Father, I Ask You About Life" from recent passages. In January he still published "After 50, It's Better to Live Simply."
Rhee married Lee Dong-won after a friendship that began in childhood. They raised two sons and two daughters and, from about 2002, lived in a multi-household home near Bukhansan in Seoul with adult children and grandchildren under a rule of mutual non-interference. He lost sight in his left eye about twenty years before his death and lived with diabetes, hypertension, gout, and disc disease, yet kept writing, lecturing, and receiving visitors. In interviews he called happiness ordinary rather than grandiose: small wishes fulfilled, shared kindness, and the refusal to let resentment harden.
Funeral rites were held at Sinchon Severance Hospital Funeral Hall, with the procession on 24 September 2026. He is remembered as a reformer of Korean mental health care, a volunteer physician in Nepal, and a writer who asked an aging society to keep finding joy until the last page.
Biography adapted from Yonhap; The Korea Herald; Asia Business Daily; Chosun Ilbo; JoongAng Ilbo; The Guardian; The Hindu; Penguin author biography.
In their own words
“Happiness is not something grand. Aren't you happy when you do what you want to do? But people are creating this mirage by making happiness too grandiose. Happiness is when something small that you want comes true.”
Interview with The Korea Herald, April 2024
“Life is a story you should read till the very last page. No one ever knows what the world has in store for you.”
Quoted in The Guardian profile of If You Live to 100 (2024)
“The world can never be perfect, but it's good to be hopeful and believe that it will change for the better.”
The Guardian interview on learning optimism after prison
“What do you like, what inspires you, and what gives meaning to your life? Why don't you find these out first?”
If You Live to 100, You Might as Well Be Happy, via The Guardian
“If you continue to find fault with ordinary days, you'll end up spending most of your life discontented and bored. But if you seek out whatever joy and fun you can in those mundane days, your life, as the total sum, will be a lot of fun.”
On ordinary days, via The Guardian
“Live happily until you die.”
Family recollection of his recurring advice, reported after his death
“Children and parents can be happy sharing about ten percent; many parents lose even that by trying to control the other ninety.”
Paraphrase of his mutual non-interference teaching, JoongAng Ilbo remembrance
“I wasn't born with an optimistic mindset, but I worked on myself very hard to become more optimistic and see value in people.”
The Guardian interview on post-prison growth

my sister sent me that book too, it helped her after my dad passed