Squid Game: What Makes it Special?

Since its release on 17th September, Squid Game has quickly become Netflix’s most watched series of all time. The show revolves around 456 people, each deeply in debt, who enter a tournament that promises them an escape from their financial struggle in the form of a cash prize of billions of won (Korean currency). What they don’t realise until the first round, however, is that the contest’s losers must pay a deadly price.

The concept of the show is fairly simple - every episode, the characters play a game. The few who win this game progress to the next round, until by the end, only a handful remain to claim the final prize. So why exactly is their story so appealing to such a broad range of audiences? How is it that in less than a month, Squid Game has gained 111 million viewers, beating fan favourites like Bridgerton, The Witcher, and Stranger Things to the top spot?

Disclaimer: This article contains spoilers for the first two episodes of Squid Game.

First of all, there’s the rather obvious aspect of the show’s spot-on commentary on capitalism. Like in The Hunger Games, the impoverished, underprivileged, and mistreated are forced to fight to their deaths, each of them merely a pawn in a game that the ultra-rich watch for entertainment. What sets Squid Game apart, though, is this simple fact: every one of the participants in these games makes a conscious choice to play them.

In signing consent forms, in voting, in staying in the competition even when offered a chance to leave, the contestants repeatedly choose to place themselves in immediate danger of grisly, gruesome deaths. The idea that hundreds of people would go through such torture just for a fleeting chance (ironically, a chance offered to them by the very perpetuators of the system that oppresses them) at a life of freedom from starvation, from debt, from all the evils of the capitalist economy, punches the viewer in the gut, awakening them to the incredible agony caused by the laissez-faire system. As reasoned by Arirang Meari, "Squid Game gained popularity because it exposes the reality of South Korean capitalist culture." While a North Korean state-run site may not be the most credible source around, this is still a point worth reflecting on!

Another unique and unexpected concept the series explores is that of equality. The characters in Squid Game have all faced extreme forms of inequality before entering the tournament. There’s Ali, who faces racial inequality. He migrates from Pakistan to South Korea hoping to secure a stable job, is exploited ruthlessly by his employer, and finds himself unable to feed his family. Then there’s Sang-Woo, who faces socio-economic inequality. After growing up in poverty, he briefly benefits off the capitalist regime, only to find himself drowning beneath its treacherous tides all over again.

The game’s organiser realises this, and even explains, “everyone is equal while they play this game. Here, the players get to play a fair game under the same conditions. Those people suffered from inequality and discrimination out in the world, and we’re giving them the last chance to fight fair and win.”

On the surface, this policy seems to ensure that all the players are equal in every sense. What it fails to take into account, though, is the fact that some players are already at a disadvantage due to overlooked factors. Both Sae-Byok and Ji-Yeong, being women and therefore physically weaker than the others, are excluded from multiple alliances and obliged to find their own means of survival. Similarly, Player 001 has the lower hand throughout the tournament simply due to his age, which slows down his mind and body. For these contestants to be equal to the others, they must first be granted additional benefits to compensate for those they naturally lack.

Here, Squid Game accurately and realistically demonstrates the difference between equality and equity, while keeping the theme subtle enough not to dominate the plot of a single episode.

The series also touches on universal human qualities, which are relatable to viewers across the globe. Dan Brown once wrote that “when they face desperation… human beings become animals.” This is true of the world’s entire population, including you and me, and Squid Game proves it time and time again.

While several pieces of media romanticise human desperation, this serial’s portrayal of the emotion is dark, dolorous and real. Contestants who start out as optimistic, idealistic, and generally good at heart become self-serving, immoral and inhumane. People who usually wouldn’t hurt a fly commit atrocities in the blink of an eye just for a minute increase in their chances of survival. By the end of the show, the characters have descended so far into depravity that they are barely recognisable as their original selves. Squid Game forces viewers to confront the darkest parts of themselves when they realise that they would make the same perverted choices as the players were they thrown into the same perverted circumstances.

Finally, despite all this, Squid Game’s perspective on humanity is not entirely cynical. At the very end of the series (minor spoilers ahead), Gi-Hun makes a final bet, this one on the inherent goodness of people. Just as the audience begins to lose faith in Gi-Hun’s belief that there is still some virtue in humankind, a single good deed proves him right after all. However bluntly, almost aggressively, the programme showcases humankind’s flaws, it leaves us with a message of assurance. That however dire circumstances may seem, there is always a chance that things will get better. The idea of hope, represented in various charcaters’ small yet significant acts of kindness throughout the series, is summarised succintly in this one scene.

Squid Game fascinates every one of us because it represents our everyday struggle for survival, albeit in an exaggerated, dramatised manner. It is a must-watch for everyone, from a casual Netflix enthusiast to a serious Marxist reformer.

Prompt Writing: "The virus was born in Wuhan"

Disclaimer: The events of this story are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to real people, places or happenings is due to the author’s complete lack of originality.

The virus was born in Wuhan. There are theories about what caused it - a freak of nature, perhaps, or a virology experiment gone wrong - but no concrete proof has been found either way. Besides, we have far more pressing problems to deal with first. As I was saying, the virus was born in Wuhan, but it didn’t stay there forever. It spread, and it spread, and it spread, until it had reached every corner of China, from the beetle-frying, puppy-boiling kitchen of a popular restaurant in Beijing, to a store in Shanghai that sold fans and parasols made in Japan as exotic Chinese paraphernalia to unsuspecting tourists. Still, China’s government turned a blind eye to it, unhelpful and unsympathetic.

By the end of the year, the contagion had reached Spain, USA, India, more countries than I can venture to name. It was given the name COVID - CO for Corona, the virus’ family, VI for virus, and D for disease. Ignoring it was no longer an option. Instead, terms like “contact tracing” and “vaccine testing” began to jump out from every newspaper’s headline, the once-low demand for masks and sanitiser bottles shot through the roof, and a man in Uttar Pradesh made a fortune selling magical cow urine that, once swallowed, would supposedly grant its drinker immunity from the virus.

Despite thousands of statements to the contrary from brainy boffins across the globe, people persisted in believing that the threat was temporary, and would be gone in mere months’ time. They continued to live their lives as they pleased, sanitising their hands every now and then and wearing their masks below their chins and demanding of anyone who questioned them, “what’s the point in staying home when this virus will be gone in a couple of weeks anyway? Just chill out.”

Alas, those boffins were right. Before long, hospitals everywhere were filled to the brim with the infected, while the few and fortunate healthy stayed locked up at home, now too afraid to step out even to buy groceries. In Italy, deaths surpassed availability of graves by so much that rotting corpses lined the streets of every city. In the USA, President Trump announced 99% of COVID cases were “totally harmless” as people coughed to death three blocks away. And in North Korea, any civilian found infected with the virus, be they adult or child, was allegedly shot dead on the spot to prevent further diffusion. The entire world was in pandemonium.

When we had just about given up hope on our lives ever returning to normal, though, we discovered a ray of light at the end of the tunnel. A vaccine was released. 13 different vaccines, in fact, from the AstraZeneca’s sought-after Covishield to the Russian Federation’s Sputnik V, which might as well have been cow urine for the public’s lack of faith in it.

The rich were vaccinated first, of course. They carried out their own form of contact tracing, locating doctors and hospital owners and vaccine suppliers to beg of and borrow from and bribe. The middle class, too, were soon vaccinated by corporate, neighbourhood and government sponsored drives. Last came the poor, who gratefully accepted whichever cure was available to them, be it a sealed vial of Covishield or a random plastic box containing an unknown florescent liquid. Soon, there weren’t many who remained unvaccinated. There was the Texan Patrick Patriot, who refused to be injected with a serum that would supposedly make him autistic. There was the Tamilian Shailaja Swami, who had heard from her neighbour that the vaccines were made in China, “just like every other piece of kuppai in this world,” and would probably be the death of them all. There was the British Con Spirator, who declared to anybody who wanted to listen - and even those who didn’t - that Bill Gates had planted a chip in every dose of the vaccine, and could now monitor the activity of vaccinated individuals.

Despite this handful of fools, the majority of the global population was fully vaccinated by the beginning of 2023. We celebrated, believing we were safe, imagining we were finally, finally free of the menace that had plagued our lives since 2020. We had no means of knowing, then, of the decades of agony to come. Of the hundreds of mutations, the thousands of onslaughts, the millions of deaths. We had no means of knowing that this was only the beginning.

The Race for the Arctic

An image of the Nagurskoye airbase sourced from https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nagurskoye_(air_base)

In the fifth month of 2021, the Russian military aircraft Ilyushin II-76 landed for the very first time on the Frank Josef Land archipelago in the midst of the Arctic Ocean. The plane came to rest at Nagurskoye - the Russian army’s northernmost base - carrying 80 people, as well as 3 tons of equipment required for further construction on the airbase. During the Cold War, Nagurskoye consisted only of a runway, a weather station and a communications outpost. But according to AP News, it is now “bristling with missiles and radar” and an “extended runway can handle all types of aircraft, including nuclear-capable strategic bombers”. What could the purpose of these recent developments be? Is it simply Russia’s way of flexing its political muscle, or something far more sinister? What is going on in the Arctic? Let’s find out.

First of all, how exactly do we define the Arctic? As established by most geologists, the Arctic is the area between Arctic Circle, a major latitude that is 66.5 degrees north of the Equator, and the North Pole, which is situated a whole 90 degrees above the Equator. The region consists mainly of liquid saltwater, with most of its freshwater frozen in the form of glaciers and icebergs.

A map of the Arctic and surrounding nations sourced from https://geology.com/world/arctic-ocean-map.shtml

Unlike Antarctica, which covers roughly the same area as the Arctic, the latter region is inhabited. Yes, it's true! The Arctic is in fact home to four million people, including one million indigenous people divided into over 40 different ethnic groups. The majority of this indigenous population lives within the borders of a country and therefore falls under its administration, although some groups - like the Inuit of Canada - are fighting for their right to self-government.

The Arctic is surrounded by eight countries, each owning a small slice of it: Canada, Denmark, Finland, Iceland, Norway, Sweden, USA, and, of course, Russia. The governments of these countries, together with representatives of the Arctic’s indigenous population, form the Arctic Council. Established on 19 September 1996 upon the signing of the Ottawa Declaration, this body helps maintain peace in the Arctic by promoting "cooperation, coordination and interaction" among its members. It plays a major role in sustainable development and environmental protection in the region. Most of its work is, however, research-based, as the Council refuses to "enforce its guidelines, assessments or recommendations." The chairmanship of the Arctic Council rotates every two years among the Arctic States, the current chairman being none other than the Russian Federation. But while this Council keeps peace in the Arctic, it does not own the entirety of it. So who does?

The simple answer is nobody. The eight nations surrounding the Arctic Ocean merely own strips of land on its coastline and can, according to the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea, exploit resources from the seabed upto 370 kilometres off their shorelines. The Arctic Ocean itself, though, being an (albeit mostly frozen) ocean, has no owner. But is this about to change?

Due to climate change, the blanket of ice covering the Arctic Ocean has begun to melt rapidly. According to Richard Powell, a polar geographer at the Scott Polar Research Institute at the University of Cambridge, the Arctic will be ice-free by “around 2040 or 2050”. As the ice melts, it leaves behind it an estimated 13% of the world's undiscovered oil and 30% of its undiscovered natural gas, which have long been buried under the frozen surface. The demand for such resources, while lessened since the introduction of renewable sources of energy, is still exceptionally high. Therefore, countries like Russia and the USA are likely to compete for dominance over this well of untapped resources. This brings us to Russia’s latest move.

Russia’s expanding its military base closest to the Arctic has aroused suspicion that the country plans to make a grab for the resource-rich region. “We have concerns about some of the recent military activities in the Arctic that increases the dangers of accidents and miscalculations and undermines the shared goal of a peaceful and sustainable future for the region,” stated USA Secretary of State Antony Blinken. As of now, the Russian Federation has only militarised its own territory. Will it dare to invoke the Arctic Coucil's wrath by venturing further? On one hand, it is clear that countries like the USA will not take any such attempt of Russia's lying down. On the other, the Arctic Council’s mandate explicitly excluding military security would enable Russia to carry out such a scheme without its intervention.

If the Russian government were to get its hands on unclaimed Arctic terrain, it would most likely result in what several ironically refer to as the "new Cold War".