Analyzing the Show 'Squid Games' Via the Social Psychology Lens
- May 5
- 12 min read
'Squid Game' is one of my favorite Netflix series, and I once binged-watched the whole season in one day. What makes the show so gripping lies in the fusion of psychological drama and social commentary. It is a South Korean survival thriller that delves into the darkest aspects of human desperation, morality, and greed through a deadly competition that tempts financially struggling individuals with the promise of immense wealth, but at the cost of their own lives and those of others. The story follows 456 financially desperate contestants who are brought to a secluded island to play traditional Korean children’s games, such as “Red Light, Green Light” and “Tug-of-War,” but with a deadly twist: losing means instant death. Each death increases the prize pool toward 45.6 billion Korean Won (approximately $34 million), with the final survivor entitled to claim the entire sum, unless the remaining players unanimously agree to end the game and divide the winnings. However, this rule really exposes the fragility of humanity under extreme pressure, as even the most seemingly benign or principled individuals are driven to violence in the pursuit of their own benefits, such as survival and wealth. (Here is the trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oqxAJKy0ii4)

Although group process is the most salient theme throughout the series, close-ups are also given to several key characters, among which are the protagonist, Gi-hun, a mother-and-son duo, and a pregnant woman. Gi-hun is a South Korean man in his 40s who identifies as Player 456. Prior to entering the game in Season 1, he is depicted as a struggling father and gambling addict whose mounting debt motivates him to participate in the game. In Season 1, Gi-hun becomes the final winner, but the trauma of witnessing mass exploitation and slaughter in the game haunts him every day. Determined to stop the organization that orchestrates the games, Gi-hun returns in Seasons 2 and 3 to help other participants survive while trying to dismantle the deadly system and protect future victims. His arc embodies the classic heroism, in which he forms alliances easily due to his highly empathetic disposition, and makes decisions that put others above his own survival.
The third concept in the paper also involves a mother-and-son duo and a pregnant character. Jang Geum-ja is portrayed as a weathered, opinionated, and kind elderly Korean woman in her 80s who raised her son Park Yong-sik as a single mother. Her job outside of the game is somewhat close to a midwife -- to help deliver babies for pregnant women. Her son, on the contrary, is a man in his 30s who embodies a harsher and more survival-driven worldview. His accumulated debt from being a compulsive gambler becomes the catalyst for both to enter the game for financial relief. Jun-hee is a pregnant player in her early 20s, entering the game primarily due to the economic precarity caused by a crypto scam. During one of the games, she gives birth to her baby with the help of Jang Geum-ja.
Social Exchange Theory
Social Exchange Theory posits that human nature is fundamentally self-interested; prior to making any decisions, individuals contemplate the unconscious abacus of costs and rewards and then commit to the actions that yield the greatest net benefit (DeLamater, Collett, & Hitlin, 2025). In this theory, rewards may include both tangible resources and intangible benefits such as safety, trust, emotional support, and reputation, while costs involve risk, effort, time, and potential losses. Over time, repeated exchanges generate patterns of dependence, power dynamics, trust, and even commitment, all of which shape how social relationships evolve (DeLamater et al., 2025). Additionally, contemporary research furthered the concept into the Affect Theory of Social Exchange, which probes into the emotional experience derived from interdependent exchanges. Specifically, when exchange occurs among multiple parties with shared efforts and responsibilities, group contributions and outcomes become inseparable, prompting individuals to attribute positive emotions to the shared relationship itself; over time, the exchange group will evolve into what Lawler called a “micro-social order,” characterized by trust, solidarity, and collective identity (Lawler, 2001).
In the show, the Social Exchange Theory is rendered exquisitely in two ways. To begin with, the seemingly “absurd” decision made by the participants to join the death-defying game reveals their deeper agenda that weighs both risks and rewards. At the end of each game, participants are given the chance to vote on whether to continue or end the game by splitting the accumulated prize money. The number of people who want to remain in the game for more accumulative wealth always outnumbers the people who wish to discontinue. Their decisions to continue reflect the cost-benefit analysis as the reward of financial liberation outweighs the risk of death (DeLamater et al., 2025). Many of the contestants are bankrupt, exploited, or facing loan sharks, and the series truly portrays how desperation can alter their perceptions of equity, fairness, and moral reasoning (Bianus & Achin, 2023). Several contestants are portrayed as being so deeply trapped in debt that their financial despair drives them to participate in a deadly competition even when they recognize the risk involved. For them, the cost of returning to their previous lives is psychologically and materially unbearable. Within this context of desperation, the deadly game then becomes not a reckless gamble but a rational “last resort,” in which participating feels more tolerable than the hopelessness that awaits in the outside world. Thus, Social Exchange Theory helps explain why, despite knowing the consequences, players continue to unflinchingly participate in the fatal game for the slim but transformative possibility of winning (DeLamater et al., 2025).
From another perspective, players form temporary alliances in the form of productive exchange of resources such as trust, protection, abilities, or information to maximize rewards and minimize costs. The key to surviving certain games requires a collective effort, and survival hinges on strategic exchanges. One of the cooperative games featured in Season 3 seamlessly embodies this theory. In the Six-Legged Pentathlon game (a scene that features this game: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pOLUG1gqDvo), players are grouped into teams of 5 with their legs tied together; to survive, they must together complete a sequence of 5 children’s games under time pressure. In the selection of teammates, contestants first inquire around regarding one another’s skills and past experiences in playing these games, then negotiate who plays which mini-game, and lastly decide who to trust for their survival. The “rewards” of cooperation in this context are not simply monetary, but intangible benefits tied to survival, reduced risk, and emotional safety. The “costs” include time, physical effort, and even the risk of death. It is worth noting that even players who are typically uncooperative and socially recalcitrant showcase increased cooperation by offering their teammates advice, comfort, and encouragement; this can be explained by Social Exchange Theory: In a game where failure means death, even intangible rewards such as trust and shared chances of survival may outweigh immediate self-interest (DeLamater et al., 2025). Viewing from the affect aspect of the theory, when the team advances through a round, they experience positive emotions such as relief, pride; conversely, moments of miscoordination or near-failure attempts evoke collective frustration and fear, which can weaken group cohesion when members choose to blame one another, demonstrating what Lawler purports as the “shared affect” in a high-responsibility exchange under pressure (Lawler, 2001).
Conformity
Conformity refers to aligning one’s own attitude, decisions, and behaviors towards a more socially accepted way that accords with the group norms and expectations (DeLamater et al., 2025). There are two forms of conformity: Normative influence is conceptualized as the pressure to conform for gaining acceptance or avoiding rejection, even if the individual might privately disagree; on the other hand, informational influence reveals conformative behaviors in ambiguous situations, in which individuals refer to others for group norms (DeLamater et al., 2025). In the show Squid Games, both forms of conformity are vividly showcased.
Firstly, the manifestation of normative influence becomes arresting during the voting scenes at the end of each game (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VreLq0aqEc0). After each round, participants are given the choice to continue or terminate the competition, and the pressure to conform to the majority’s decisions becomes evident. Throughout the 3 seasons, the 456 players naturally divide themselves into two groups: One that favors continuing the deadly competition with their self-preservational mindset, viewing the game as a “zero-sum pursuit,” in which only their own survival and victory matter at the end, even at the cost of others’ lives. The other group in contrast becomes gradually disillusioned by the vicarious fear of witnessing each brutal killing that leads to mounting deaths by the end of each round of the game; these players eventually prioritize humanity over the promise of wealth, hoping to vote against staying rather than perpetuating the violence. However, as fear and social influence intensify, once they notice that the majority have voted to proceed, they then conform and cast their votes in favor of continuing the deadly competition to be in alignment with the majority of the group, although their facial expressions or body language indicate internal conflicts. Similar to participants in Asch’s experiments, they engage in public compliance without private acceptance, which is driven by the need for belonging and the fear of being ostracized if the games continue (DeLamater et al., 2025).
Secondly, Squid Games also illustrates the concept of informational conformity in a dramatic way, where alignment with the majority is no longer just a social mechanism but also a strategy for survival. In the very first game, “Red Light, Green Light,” most participants enter with confusion regarding what to expect when it comes to the rules and consequences of failure. As soon as the first few participants fail to remain still and are abruptly shot, panic and confusion erupt in the crowd. Observing others sprinting toward the exit, many instinctively imitate this behavior and only to be killed for moving; however, once contestants realize that when the majority of the mass stay still and are exempt from the harm, they rapidly mimic this behavior instead (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XIqHzhnFbfo). This phenomenon explains Sherif’s informational influence: in a high-stakes situation filled with uncertainty, contestants rely on the visible behavior of the others to understand what is safe, correct, and necessary (DeLamater et al., 2025). The players’ abrupt shift from chaos to synchronized stillness demonstrates how group behavior quickly becomes the standard for interpreting an ambivalent and high-stakes reality.
Empathy-Altruism Model
The Empathy-Altruism Model argues that the motivation for helping others is embedded in either egoistic distress or genuine empathy (DeLamater et al., 2025). Witnessing others’ suffering can elicit distress from a personal level, leading to anxiety and discomfort that motivates the willingness to help so that the negative feelings can subside (DeLamater et al., 2025). Further, DeLamater et al. (2025) detail that egoistically motivated helpers act only when the cost is low or escape is difficult. In contrast, helpers motivated by genuine empathy aim to reduce the other person’s suffering rather than their own; hence they persist in helping even when escape is easy, the personal costs are high, and no external reward is expected (DeLamater et al., 2025). In this show, numerous characters demonstrate prosocial behavior that emerges from genuine empathy, revealing the culturally specific form of collectivism among Koreans, often described as “uri-we-ness” (우리성 / “we-ness” / “our-ness”), which supports prosocial behavior and the willingness to sacrifice (Yang, 2019). Under this construct, it is plausible that some players in the show shelter morally-driven impulses and altruistic decisions even under extreme cost, not simply out of personal morality, but as an expression of entrenched cultural values.
Throughout the series, the main character Gi-hun consistently showcases prosocial behaviors that reflect true empathic concern, corroborating the prediction that empathy-driven helping is more enduring, often leading to long-term patterns of care and sacrifice (DeLamater et al., 2025). From the earliest episodes, Gi-hun consistently responds to vulnerable players with compassion, even when doing so means jeopardizing his own chances of survival. The most striking examples occur during season 3 when he repeatedly risks and ultimately sacrifices his life to save a newborn baby. In the Bridge Jump-Rope game scene (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vzX6mi3ybx8), after the game’s enforcers have decided to include the infant as a contestant, Gi-hun chooses to carry the baby on behalf of the crippled mother Jun-hee. Carrying the baby in this specific game can dramatically increase his risk of failure by slowing his movements, reducing his agility, and placing him at a strategic disadvantage. Escape is easy: He could abandon the child without penalty, as other players do to maximize their own survival and monetary rewards. Instead, he instinctively protects the baby, even though it jeopardizes his own chances of winning. In the final round of the game, Gi-hun faces a fatal ultimatum with only two contestants remaining: Gi-hun and the infant (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ULtwHuRBLx8) and only one player gets to survive. He refuses to kill the baby or allow harm to come to her; instead, Gi-hun ultimately chooses to jump off the platform himself without hesitation to ensure the infant’s survival. His behavior reflects pure altruism: Gi-hun’s helping decision is not for his own distress, approval seeking, or reciprocity expectation. His actions are solely grounded in compassion for someone utterly incapable of defending themselves: Rather than capitulate to fear and self-preservation, Gi-hun sacrifices everything for the survival of the baby in the end.
Another scene involving the mother-and-son pair also illustrates altruism based on genuine empathy (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F4boobB6FKQ). In the game Hike and Seek, Geum-ja helps the pregnant lady Jun-hee deliver her baby and discreetly uses a knife hidden in her hairpin to cut the umbilical cord. As the round nears its end, the blue team must kill at least one member of the red team to survive, and Geum-ja’s son, Yong-sik, is on the blue team. Desperate and running out of time, he attempts to kill Jun-hee or her newborn to secure his survival. Geum-ja intervenes immediately, begging her son to spare them and kill her instead. When he refuses and raises his weapon toward the baby, Geum-ja uses the same knife she has just used in the delivery to stab him first, killing her own son to protect the defenseless mother and child. Geum-ja could have just turned away, justified her son’s actions, or avoided intervening, but instead she chooses to alleviate others’ suffering rather than her own or her son’s, resulting in losing the person she loves the most. Her decision is not driven by guilt reduction, social approval, or personal benefit; rather, it reflects empathic moral judgment toward Jun-hee and her baby, who are vulnerable, defenseless, innocent, and must be protected.
Brief Clinical Conceptualization
Geum-ja’s will to survive comes to a demise with her son’s death. Overwhelmed by grief, she pleads with the remaining players to end the games so that the baby’s life could be spared, promising them that she would forfeit all her prize money to give to them. Her appeals go unheard as the majority still votes to continue the game. Later that night, she shares a heartfelt conversation with the main character Gi-hun, lamenting the injustice of the world and how “bad people do bad things, while good people blame themselves for others’ actions.” She then blames her son’s death on herself, confessing with anguish, “In the end, I killed him. With my own hands, I killed my own child.” Consumed by guilt and despair, she ends her own life by hanging herself in the dormitory later that night (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZOAHG6LDJ88).
In the story, Geum-ja is portrayed as a fiery and yet amiable mother whose identity has been shaped by hardships, sacrifice, and maternal responsibility. According to the setting of the show, Geum-ja was born in the 1940s and survived the Korean War as a child. Later in life, she endured years of domestic abuse and infidelity from her ex-husband before ultimately leaving him and raising her son on her own. Over the years, she has helped over a dozen pregnant women safely deliver their babies in the local neighborhood of Bongcheon-dong. As a devoted and self-sacrificing mother, she enters the Squid Games along with her son, not for her personal ambition, but in the desperate hope of winning enough money to repay his mounting gambling debts and secure a better future for him.
It is important to note that her decision to save the pregnant lady and her newborn by sacrificing her son also emerges from her staunch lifelong identity shaped by being a neighborhood midwife and by the traditional Korean collectivist values of “we-ness”, in which the elders should protect the vulnerable (Yang, 2019). Decades of poverty, widowhood, and caregiving further reinforce her deeply internalized altruistic values. Her suicidality, on the other hand, reveals the psychodynamic conflict of moral values underlying guilt, pain, and hopelessness of killing her son. Her overwhelming guilt and despair are consistent with symptoms of Major Depressive Disorder. Clinically, while working with Geum-ja, treatment should first address her suicidal ideation through crisis interventions and safety planning, as well as decrease her depressive symptoms. Grief counseling can help her mourn the loss of her son while examining how cultural expectations of maternal sacrifice might exacerbate her self-blame and despair. Narrative therapy can also be beneficial in reconstructing her whole life story in a way that acknowledges both resilience and other identities rather than reducing herself to the tragedy of one moment. ACT can also help her acknowledge the impossible situation she is put in and recognize that her actions are driven by her entrenched virtues rather than malice. Last but not least, trauma-informed therapy can guide her in processing her lifelong exposure to trauma, such as the Korean War, domestic violence, and her son’s death, while clarifying the intent of her actions and reconstructing the meaning and new identity coming out of trauma.
References
Bianus, A. B., & Achin, I. A. (2023). Exploring the psychological and societal implications of the Netflix series “Squid Game”: An in-depth analysis. ResearchGate. https://www.researchgate.net/publication/374582287
DeLamater, J. D., Collett, J. L., & Hitlin, S. (2025). Social psychology (10th ed.). Routledge.
Lawler, E. J. (2001). An affect theory of social exchange. American Journal of Sociology, 107(2), 321–352. https://doi.org/10.1086/324071
Yang, J. (2019). The influence of Korean collectivism (uri-we-ness) on interpersonal communication behaviors. The Journal of the Korea Contents Association, 19(5), 1–14. https://doi.org/10.5392/JKCA.2019.19.05.001



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