Squid Game — Are Humans Fundamentally Good, or Evil?

Evan SooHoo
7 min readNov 6, 2021

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Source: Netflix

I did not want to make this post political, so (naturally) I decided to start by discussing a review by Ben Shapiro. He gave the first season of “Squid Game” a 7/10, but added that the political message is a 1/10 — he said it essentially boiled down to rich bad, poor good, like the film “Parasite” had.

But “Parasite,” like “Squid Game,” has some nuance to it. The rich characters are not mustache-twirling villains, they are family members who take part in romantic relationships, raise children, and care for each other…though they do things that are morally questionable. The poor characters are more sympathetic, and constitute main characters, but they carry out some of the most morally questionable actions in the movie. Maybe the film criticizes the ultra-wealthy for their lack of empathy. Maybe the film criticizes the poor for tearing other poor people apart, instead of helping each other. Maybe the film blames economic disparity itself, particularly in South Korea. The point is that it leaves room for discussion.

The top comment on the Ben Shapiro review, by someone named Tim Milgram, argues that “Squid Game” is as much a criticism of communism as it is of capitalism, with the game representing a communist ideal. I disagree with this as well, though I do find it interesting.

“Parasite” has mostly been analyzed through a political lens. This show has already been analyzed through a political lens. I even read an article by The Atlantic about how Gangnam Style was a subversive critique of South Korean wealth, brilliantly juxtaposing fantasies of dancing parties and horses with an everyday bus and playground with a merry-go-round so as to satirize Gangnam’s elite.

Spoilers ahead:

I also call this song, “Oh Il-nam’s Theme”

The Final Bet

Ready? I said spoilers.

The climactic scene of the season was one final bet between Gi-hun and Il-nam, the latter of whom revealed himself as the true mastermind of the game. Was it well-executed? Episode six was by far the highest rated, and I imagine there are quite a few people who had trouble grappling with the idea that Il-nam was in control the entire time. Heavy Spoilers claims that if you re-watch the first episode, you will see that the camera put Il-nam in a different shade, indicating that he was never in danger of being shot. Another clue, they say, is that a large brawl abruptly ends when Il-nam requests that it end. Tug-of-war? Maybe he was not really chained.

In the end, there is one final bet. Il-nam believes that everyone will ignore a drunken homeless man, and that the man will freeze to death. His challenge to Gi-hun is that Gi-hun will win if someone stops to help. Il-nam either believes or somehow wishes to stop believing that humans are fundamentally motivated by their own self-interest. Gi-hun, on the other hand, believes in fundamental good.

Josh St. Clair says it more eloquently:

Their wager is one of moral belief. Oh had first asked Seong if he still retained hope in others after witnessing the manipulation, betrayal, and selfishness demonstrated throughout the games. Seong doesn’t answer, though throughout the games he had tried to never kill another player…

This battle between egoism (where self-interest dictates moral decision making) and some form of collaboration/altruism represents the crux not only of the games themselves — where one must first decide if the game is competitive or cooperative — but also the inner conflict for each player.

Gi-hun is a morally ambiguous character, and his attempt to betray Il-nam by exploiting his dementia seriously complicates him. Prior to the game, Il-nam is dysfunctional. He lives with his mother but steals from her to fuel a gambling addiction. He cancels her insurance, arguably leading to her eventual death. He even swears “on his mother’s life” before breaking a promise, a detail I read while browsing through YouTube comments, and in the end he finds that her life has ended.

But Gi-hun, like humanity itself, has redeeming qualities.

The Religious Angle

The Squid Game is its own representation of hell, a place where the damned commit sins against each other. Then again, they join it by their own free will. The worst act they can commit in the game is killing people who agreed to risk their lives. Maybe the pastor is not meant to symbolize God’s influence, but rather empty devotion to God.

Ji-yeong is the daughter of a pastor, a man who abused her and then attempted to ask God for forgiveness. He murdered her mother.

In spite of that, and in spite of her lack of faith, Ji-yeong ultimately carries out an act of sacrifice, and the pastor fails to.

A More Complex, “Meta” Angle

We are discussing this show, and we are watching it in record numbers. In a sense, the season follows the typical “plot” of a reality TV series or game show. We get a little backstory on each character who has a fighting chance. We watch the numbers thin. We decide who we really root for, and on and on it goes.

Betzmann Vlogs, in the comment above, argues that the real purpose of the bet was to show Gi-hun how he could be reduced to an observer. Why interfere? Gi-hun and everyone else after game #1 chose to be in. As a winner, he could enjoy his reward and no longer feel guilt at elevating himself from “horse” to one who observed from above.

This interpretation is pretty dark.

A Fair Game?

“It’s all about your force of will. The secret to tug-of-war is to pull harder than they do. Keep pulling, even when you get tired. Make sure you’re pulling with your back in an upward, twisting motion. You gotta keep thinking, if I don’t pull really hard and really fast, I’m gonna get thrown down into the abyss and die. Use that as motivation.”

Il-nam takes part in the game, therefore it is never truly fair. We, as the audience, know with 100% certainty that Il-nam exits the game in episode 6 without suffering the consequence everyone else has to.

The “bridge game” is where it gets interesting. One character has decades of experience at a glass factory, so he uses his knowledge instead of just running to his death like an ill-fated math teacher who can only use his skill set to calculate how screwed he is. On one hand, maybe this is an unfair advantage to the “front man,” who believes in equality.

But then again, and this is why I take issue with the argument that the game represents communism, the front man basically eliminates this advantage for spectators. He does not handicap stronger players before tug-of-war. He does not penalize Gi-hun for licking candy in honeycomb instead of relying on dexterity alone. It seems the front man just eliminates this glass knowledge advantage because a wealthy funder asked to.

This is kind of analogous to shooting a horse (their metaphor, not mine) in the leg because it is winning, which hardly seems fair to the VIPs. Then again, no one is fair to the VIPs. They seem to be universally hated, and I personally think they eliminate the more nuanced perspective of the wealthy that “Parasite” provides. They are just kind of annoying, they are not particularly fair, and to top it all off they hamstring a contestant in spite of the fact that another VIP may have bet on him.

In the end, I do think “Squid Game” really is a critique of capitalism…but would add that it is still more thoughtful than “rich bad, poor good.”

Closing Thoughts

I had this high school English teacher who said you should never, ever add new ideas in a conclusion. She said it so often that I found myself doing the opposite at every opportunity.

Does “Squid Game” offer an alternative to the extreme debt and economic disparity it portrays? Not exactly, at least not by the end of season one. The game hardly seems fair. The outside world is arguably even less forgiving. But by the end point, little parts of the plot seem to string together.

The supposed “antagonist” of the game was planning on committing suicide; he ultimately does, but as a form of sacrifice to make sure his mother is taken care of. Ji-yeong sacrifices herself as well, which allows Sae‑byeok to live a little longer, while allows Sae-byeok to tell Gi-hun about her brother. Gi-hun takes care of his childhood friend’s mother and Sae-byeok’s brother, then nearly returns to his family with newfound wealth…the same family with a stepfather he had previously told off for believing money was the solution to his problems.

There are two (not three, the finale reveals) really “good” characters who die at the end of episode six, characters who never betray their friends out of self-interest. But they still cause deaths through tug-of-war. They still survive “red light, green light,” a brutal game in which characters win by using each other as human shields, not stopping to help wounded victims or, in Ali’s case, risking everything for an instinctual desire to save another person.

Gi-hun wins, perhaps out of charisma and intelligence, but more likely because he was lucky enough to befriend the one who started it all…without actually being kind enough to resist the temptation to betray him.

Last Thought

I know I got a little off theme with this post. Though this does not give me the right to use the “software engineering” or “software development” tags, I did enjoy this “Squid Game” parody that replaces honeycomb shapes with programming languages, then reveals that the challenge is to just write “Hello, world.”

Second, this Joshua Fluke video compares the job interview process to “Squid Game.” This is actually what made me finally watch it.

Enjoy your software engineer job interviews, everyone!

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Evan SooHoo
Evan SooHoo

Written by Evan SooHoo

I never use paywalls (anymore) because I would get stuck behind them.

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