The resignation of Kim Yong-beom, chief policy secretary to President Lee Jae Myung, should not be treated as merely another personnel change. It should serve as a warning — and an opportunity — for the Lee administration to reassess how it formulates and implements economic policy.

Kim resigned on Monday, and President Lee accepted his resignation, roughly 15 months after Kim was appointed as the administration's first chief policy secretary. Senior presidential spokesperson Kang Yu-jung said in a briefing Monday that Kim had expressed his intention to resign and that the president accepted it. His departure came amid mounting criticism of the administration's economic and financial policies, particularly the introduction of single-stock leveraged exchange-traded funds (ETFs) and growing concerns over market volatility and investor losses. The controversy was especially sensitive because Kim is a veteran financial regulator — he previously served as chairman of the Financial Services Commission — so critics held him to a higher standard on financial-market policy.

The timing is significant. Only two days earlier, the administration had announced a Cabinet reshuffle in which Kim initially remained in his post. His subsequent resignation suggests the government could no longer ignore rising calls for accountability. The episode raises a more fundamental question: who ultimately takes responsibility when a major government policy produces consequences that were not adequately anticipated?

That question matters far beyond Kim personally. A presidential policy secretary is not simply an administrator who executes decisions handed down from above. The position exists precisely to coordinate competing interests, identify potential risks and, when necessary, tell the president that a particular policy may be misguided or premature. In that sense, accountability is not about finding a scapegoat. It is about ensuring that power comes with responsibility.

The controversy over single-stock leveraged ETFs illustrates the point. The government and financial authorities had legitimate reasons to consider regulatory reform, including concerns about regulatory asymmetry between domestic and overseas markets. The Financial Services Commission itself said in July that its supplementary measures sought to balance regulatory reform with investor protection and concerns about heightened volatility in major semiconductor stocks. But good intentions do not guarantee good policy. The rollout put the government in an unusual position: actively promoting new capital-market products while those products were generating sharp swings in precisely the heavily traded semiconductor names that anchor Korean retail investment, blurring the line between market development and market management.

The larger lesson concerns the Lee administration's economic philosophy. The government has pursued an ambitious agenda ranging from capital-market reform and industrial policy to artificial intelligence investment and housing policy. Such an agenda can succeed only if policymakers maintain the confidence of markets and citizens.

The government must recognize that markets cannot simply be ordered to behave in accordance with political objectives. Nor can housing prices, stock prices or investment decisions be permanently managed through regulation alone. Economic policy works best when it establishes credible rules, allows markets to function and intervenes only where genuine market failures or excessive risks threaten the broader economy.

The appointment of Kim's successor will therefore be crucial. The president needs a policy chief who is not merely politically loyal, but professionally independent. The next policy secretary must be capable of challenging assumptions inside the presidential office, communicating honestly about policy risks and listening to voices outside government. A presidential adviser who only tells the president what he wants to hear is of little value. The most useful adviser is often the one willing to deliver uncomfortable news before a policy failure becomes a political crisis.

The government should also resist the temptation to declare the matter closed with Kim's resignation. If his departure becomes nothing more than a convenient way to absorb public anger, the administration will have learned little. But if it leads to a serious review of the policy-making process — from regulatory impact assessments and interagency coordination to communication with financial markets and investor protection — the resignation could become a turning point.

There is another reason why this matters. The Lee administration is still relatively young and has ample time to correct course. Economic policy mistakes are inevitable for any government; refusing to learn from them is not.

What Korea needs now is not another round of political confrontation over who is to blame. It needs a government capable of distinguishing between legitimate reform and reckless experimentation, between political messaging and economic reality, and between defending a policy and correcting it when circumstances change.

Kim Yong-beom has accepted political responsibility by stepping down, and that should be respected. But responsibility should not end with one man's resignation. The real test will be whether Lee uses this moment to rebuild confidence in his administration's economic decision-making.

Markets do not demand perfection from governments. They demand predictability, competence and credibility. And citizens demand something even more basic: a government willing to admit when it gets something wrong and capable of fixing it. Kim's resignation should therefore be regarded not as the end of a controversy, but as the beginning of a much-needed policy reset.