Opinion: Americans unknowingly flirt with ‘Squid Game’s’ hidden meaning
Flynn Ledoux | Illustration Editor
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In Squid Game, the desperate contestants do not merely compete for a chance at wealth — they compete for survival in a system that devours those unable to keep pace. The global Netflix phenomenon from South Korea is more than a dystopian fantasy; it’s an allegory for the unbridled capitalism, entrenched inequality and creeping authoritarianism threatening modern societies.
The show’s creator, Hwang Dong-hyuk, openly states that the series reflects the suffocating realities of contemporary life in South Korea, where chaebols — family-owned conglomerates like Samsung and Hyundai — command not just the economy, but the government itself. Yet the show’s commentary resonates far beyond its borders of origin, offering cautionary lessons for Americans as we confront our own drift toward oligarchy and flirtations with authoritarian leadership. With President-elect Donald Trump’s second term approaching, the parallels between consolidation of power in Squid Game and the erosion of democratic norms in the United States become even more apparent.
South Korea’s chaebols dominate nearly every aspect of the nation’s economy and wield power that renders them virtually untouchable. Despite countless scandals — ranging from the deadly Sewol ferry disaster to accusations of embezzlement and labor violations — these conglomerates continue to thrive. Their survival stems not from innovation but from a symbiotic relationship with the government. Echoing decades of political leaders entangled with corporate interests, President Yoon Suk-yeol faces accusations of leveraging executive privilege to evade scrutiny.
This dysfunction is exemplified in the lives of South Koreans who grapple with punishing work hours, skyrocketing real estate prices and an education system so competitive that it’s been likened to gladiatorial combat. These pressures are the very soul of Squid Game, where debt and desperation force individuals to play cruel and violent games for the amusement of unseen elites. The show’s visceral critique of systemic inequality is not only a South Korean story, but an unsettling reflection of the economic systems that Americans take for granted.
While the chaebols may seem like a uniquely Korean phenomenon, their parallels in the U.S. are striking. Consider the influence of Big Tech titans like Amazon, Google and Meta, whose monopolistic practices and sway over public discourse are disturbingly reminiscent of South Korea’s conglomerates. These corporations, much like chaebols, do not merely participate in capitalism — they shape it, defining the rules by which citizens must play.
And just as South Korea’s wealthiest families have historically dodged accountability, America’s wealthiest people and corporations often use their socioeconomic influence to tilt the scales in their favor. From tax loopholes to lobbying efforts that undermine environmental protections, the richest Americans benefit from a deliberately self-serving system at the expense of the working class. This corporate feudalism is a direct contributor to the growing economic divide and leaves millions struggling in the shadows of unprecedented opulence.
Cole Ross | Digital Design Director
Squid Game warns us of the dangers of unchecked capitalism while also symbolically illustrating the rise of authoritarianism. In America, Trump’s recent outlandish claims suggesting he aims to annex Canada, seize control of the Gulf of Mexico or dominate the Panama Canal are not simply idle fantasies. They are the bellows of a leader who believes in the consolidation of power above all else. Trump’s rhetoric and disdain for democratic norms mirror the autocratic tendencies present in South Korea’s own political scandals, where presidents like Park Geun-hye and Yoon Suk-yeol have faced accusations of leveraging their offices for personal and corporate gains.
As long as Trump’s influence lingers over global politics, his brand of strongman governance could cement the kind of oligarchic rule that Squid Game so forcefully condemns. His first presidency demonstrated a willingness to cater to corporate interests, undermine institutions and erode public trust, setting a dangerous precedent that the U.S. can’t afford to ignore.
The lessons from South Korea are clear: unchecked capitalism and concentrated power breed corruption, inequality and societal decay. We as Americans must confront our own chaebols and the creeping normalization of authoritarian rhetoric. Reform is possible, yet also imperative.
Congress must strengthen antitrust laws to dismantle monopolies that stifle competition and exploit workers. Campaign finance reform must be a priority to reduce the influence of money in politics. Above all, voters must reject leaders who peddle authoritarian fantasies and instead champion those who prioritize equity, accountability and democracy.
As Squid Game so poignantly illustrates, systems of power do not collapse under their own weight but rather the demands of those they diminish. The question is whether Americans will recognize the game we are playing before it’s too late.
Max Lancer is a junior majoring in chemistry, biochemistry and mathematics. His column appears weekly. He can be reached at mlancer@syr.edu.
Published on January 13, 2025 at 10:04 pm