Film Club: “Squid Game” and Humanity
The Korean thriller challenges our conscience.
Cover photo: Lee Jung-jae as Seong Gi-hun (Player 456) in Squid Game 3, directed by Hwang Dong-hyuk (2025). Via LA Times.
WARNING: This article mentions, death, suicide, and violence, as well as spoilers for Squid Game (2021-2025).
Intro
Squid Game has come to an end. The Korean dystopian thriller became a global phenomenon, with the third season reaching over 60 million views in just three days. But beyond the adrenaline and surreal horror, Squid Game poses a deeper question: what does it mean to be human in a world that rewards inhumanity?
Capitalism & Dehumanization
As envisioned by creator and director Hwang Dong-hyuk, Squid Game serves as an allegory for the “extreme competition” of capitalism, where one person’s success often depends on another’s failure. Chosen for their financial despair, players are reduced to numbers and forced to endure a series of tortuous challenges for the entertainment of an anonymous audience.
The walls of the dormitory bear the Latin words “Hodie mihi, cras tibi”, which loosely translates to “My turn today, yours tomorrow.” Associated with the inevitability of death, here this phrase evokes ideas of equality and struggle.
The Front Man (In-ho) calls contestants “horses” and “trash.” As a former winner himself, he believes that humans are fundamentally selfish and cruel — because that is what allowed him to survive.
According to psychologist Albert Bandura’s Social Cognitive Theory, humans are shaped by an interplay of internal cognition, behavior, and environment. In Squid Game, the system rewards violence and so contestants quickly adapt. They succumb to the animalistic instinct of self-preservation, sacrificing their conscience for the promises of survival and wealth.
Democracy without Morals
By the second season, democracy emerges as a central theme. Before each game, contestants vote publicly on whether the competition should continue. The vote legitimizes the horrific games through the illusion of choice, shifting the burden of guilt from organizers to contestants.
“One more game!” players shout, emboldened by their survival and confident they will win again. The will of the group condemns more and more contestants to death.
Democracy becomes a mechanism of moral disengagement. Hiding behind the mask of democracy, no one feels responsible — “We’ve discussed this and made a democratic decision … we’re going to need you to die.”
This is exactly the danger that Pope John Paul II warned against. Influenced by Communist Poland and Nazi Germany, he wrote, “a democracy without values easily turns into open or thinly disguised totalitarianism.”
“Is the majority always right?” asks Hwang. “And, is it capable of allowing us to choose the right leaders?” It’s a timely question, echoing a growing erosion of faith in democracy around the world.
Just last year, South Korea’s then-President Yoon Suk-yeol declared martial law — suspending civilian government in a stunning move toward authoritarianism. Constitutional checks reversed the decision, proving that democratic institutions are only as strong as their moral foundations.
Transcendence
“Do you still have faith in people?” the Front Man asks Gi-hun, pressing him to surrender to cynicism. He is eager to corrupt Gi-hun to justify his own descent into cruelty. The Front Man offers Gi-hun a way out: kill his sleeping opponents and leave the island with Player 222, the newborn baby.
When Player 456 must choose, he recalls the words of his friend, Kang Sae-byeok: “You are not that kind of person.”
“Gi-hun was able to retain his humanity because he met someone like her,” explains Hwang. Actor Lee Jung-jae agrees, “if In-ho had met someone like Sae-byeok in the game, it’s possible he might not have become the Front Man.”
Unlike In-ho, Gi-hun chooses morality over survival. As Lee concludes, “to call ourselves human, we have to be true to our conscience”. A failed husband, father, and son, Gi-hun is ultimately redeemed. He becomes a Christ-like figure, sacrificing himself so the newborn may live.
In the thought of Pope John Paul II (born Karol Wojtyła), this is precisely what it means to be human. All people are capable of “transcendence” (transcendencja) — rising above instinct, fear, and social pressure through free and conscious action toward truth.
Gi-hun’s selfless act inspires In-ho to save infant Player 222 from the burning island and give his personal effects his daughter in Los Angeles.
Conclusion
There’s more to life than mere survival. Squid Game challenges viewers to reject greed, rise above toxic systems, and build real community. As Hwang says, “I hope you find people who treat you with compassion, recognize your worth and show you respect … and become that person for others too.”
