Available since 1979 under the Divorce Act, on-the-spot annulments used to be a convenience for men tiring of their wives. That changed during the past decade with the decline of the Confucian patriarchal system, women's rising expectations and relaxed social mores.

The quickie divorce became the easiest solution for women trapped in unhappy marriages. Divorces rose to 157,100 in 2003 from 68,300 in 1995. About 87 per cent were by mutual consent.

But during the past year, concerned judges and legislators have tried to rein in the rate by making couples observe a cooling-off period before signing the divorce papers.

'A careful deliberation period and counselling can help couples to cool down,' says Uri Party legislator Lee Eun-young, who tabled a bill last November calling for a three-month wait before marriages are dissolved. 'We have too many catastrophes after hasty family break-ups, and it's the children who suffer the most.'

In March, Seoul Family Court judge Lee Soo-young introduced a trial scheme by which couples seeking divorce are encouraged to seek counselling. Those who refuse get a hearing only after three weeks, but even those who agree must wait one week to complete the paperwork. 'Twenty five per cent of divorcees regret their decision,' she says. 'We judges should do something,'

Family therapist Lee Nam-ok, who is among 120 counsellors volunteering at the court, supports the move. 'The Korean family is now experiencing what happened earlier in the west. Confucianism used to be a basis for the family. Now, we don't have a model to live by.' As a result, people give up on marriage too easily. 'Some couples think about divorce after only a week,' she says.

Reconciliation efforts in district family courts seem to be having an impact. The number of divorces nationwide dropped to 128,500 last year, and rates in Seoul have dropped by about 19 per cent since the scheme began.

Campaigners face greater hurdles in small, rural courts. 'Couples can easily change the jurisdiction of a divorce case,' says Judge Yoo Jae-bok, of the Daejeon Family Court. 'Fees are often waived by the small courts and if a judge suggests a cool-off period, couples simply transfer to another court. So judges in the countryside are apt to sign divorce papers more quickly than those in large cities.'

But others argue that it's wrong to blame marriage break-ups on the divorce law. Despite the country's impressive economic achievements and technological progress, many values are mired in old Confucian notions of male superiority.

'It should be the other way round,' says Korea Legal Aid Centre for Family Relations president Kwak Bae-hee. 'The patriarchal family system has been at the core of all divorce issues. It's just that women now have greater opportunity to raise their voices as South Korea becomes more westernised.

'Seventy per cent of women who seek our help complain about husbands with whom they have nothing in common, are adulterous or violent.'

Paul Chae Kyu-man, a professor of psychology at Sungshin Women's University, suggests the situation is exacerbated by Korean men's traditional attachment to their mothers. 'Some husbands are so attached to their mothers that they are psychologically unable to function without them. They are unable to meet the demands of wives who desire an intimate relationship and emotional support,' he says.

Counselling can help spouses overcome totally different expectations of marriage. But Chae says he meets considerable resistance from men who traditionally feel that it's a disgrace to discuss personal problems with a stranger.

Jenny Lee's failed marriage reflects many couples' contradictory expectations. She had returned to work after having a baby and became increasingly successful. Her husband quit his job in a big company to set up his own business, but was failing and resented the time she spent at the office.

'He wanted a traditional housewife and I couldn't be that,' Lee says. 'So he turned to the type of girl who would wait on him and say yes to everything.'

Lee Jae-kyung, a professor of women's studies at Ewha Women's University, says divorce in Korean society should be seen as a change, rather than a crisis.

For instance, more older women are leaving hidebound husbands for new freedoms - especially after last year's abolition of hojuje, the family registry system that defines identity and inheritance only through the male lineage.

Industrialisation, changing demographics and a growing sense of individuality are shattering unrealistic expectations. 'The tension between faster-changing women and slower-changing men is a major cause of conflict,' Lee Jae-kyung says. 'Men feel that their authority is being threatened and they often experience identity crises and feel emotionally confused.'

On popular television talk show One Fine Day, host Kim Min-kyung dishes out light-hearted advice about family issues. 'In general, Koreans are highly educated, but we don't know how to cope with family problems,' she says. 'So we just get a divorce.'

But Kim, too, echoes the scholars' views. 'Korean women keep on changing, but many men are still in the Joseon period. There is such a big gap.

'Even though young Korean men have changed somewhat in attitude, they still don't help around the house when they get married. Young career women get angry with the double workload.

'Older women are less tolerant because they've suffered and endured more under the old family system and laws. They just don't want to put up with nonsense from their husbands anymore,' Kim says. 'The secret is to achieve balance.'

For all the judges' and counsellors' efforts to save marriages, however, many couples find that difficult to achieve.

Kim Min-ji, a 34-year-old teacher, recalls how she and her husband used to fight constantly over family allegiances. 'He thought his parents and siblings were more important than mine, and I had too many duties which wore me out,' says Kim Min-ji, who had to care for her ailing mother-in-law when she came to live with them after her father-in-law died. 'While we lived apart, I felt she was my responsibility, but when we were living together she didn't feel like part of the family.'

Kim Min-ji's banker husband, Choi Keon-ho, 39, complained that she had become too demanding. 'I didn't have time to attend family functions organised by my wife's family. She should go alone,' he says. 'My wife drained me.'

Eventually, the couple opted for the cheap and easy solution: on-the-spot divorce. The split was necessary 'for our sanity', Kim Min-ji says.