Survival, Choices, and Humanity

When Squid Game premiered, it wasn’t just a thriller... it became a mirror to society, wealth inequality, and the brutal consequences of desperation. This fictional South Korean series, created by Hwang Dong-hyuk, tells the story of 456 players who accept a mysterious invitation to compete in children's games. The prize? A life-changing ₩45.6 billion (roughly $38 million). The cost? Their lives.

But beyond the suspense and violence lies a deeper motivational message, rooted in the creator’s life, the struggles of the characters, and the uncomfortable truths it reveals about modern life. This is the motivational story of Squid Game, told only through the facts that made it powerful... both on screen and behind the scenes.

The Creator’s Personal Struggle

Hwang Dong-hyuk, the writer and director of Squid Game, wrote the script in 2008 during a period of severe financial hardship. He lived with his mother and grandmother, was heavily in debt, and even had to sell his laptop for money. Studios rejected the concept repeatedly for over a decade, calling it too grotesque, too unrealistic.

But Hwang held on.

He believed that the story wasn’t just about violence... it was about people. About the psychological extremes humans face when pushed to the edge. About how capitalism, when taken to an extreme, can force people into impossible decisions.

Fast forward to 2021. Netflix picked up the series, and within just a month, Squid Game became the platform’s most-watched show of all time. The script no one wanted? It was now a global cultural phenomenon. It crossed languages and borders, speaking to universal struggles like debt, poverty, powerlessness, and survival.

A Game of Human Choices

At its core, Squid Game isn't about games... it's about choices.

Each player in the game voluntarily enters the competition. And after experiencing the horror of the first game ("Red Light, Green Light"), they're given the chance to walk away... which they do. But most of them choose to return. Why?

Because life outside the game is just as cruel, if not more. Debts, abuse, poverty, lack of opportunities. They return not for greed, but because they’ve been stripped of hope by the real world.

Seong Gi-hun, the main character, is a divorced chauffeur with a gambling addiction, trying to win custody of his daughter. His story reflects not just individual failure but the weight of broken systems... where the working class is left behind, and social safety nets fail.

He’s not a hero in the traditional sense. He makes mistakes. He’s selfish at times. But so are the other players... and that’s the point. These are ordinary people placed in extraordinary circumstances. Some turn ruthless. Others cling to kindness.

Ali Abdul, a migrant worker from Pakistan, is one of the most beloved characters. Despite facing exploitation and discrimination in South Korea, he maintains a strong moral compass. His eventual betrayal by a character he trusted hit millions of viewers hard... because it’s heartbreakingly real. Goodness doesn’t always win. But it still matters.

Trust, Loyalty, and the Price of Survival

One of the most powerful dynamics in Squid Game is the alliance between players. Temporary bonds are formed for survival. Friendships blossom. But the rules of the game are simple: only one can win.

In the marbles game, players are asked to partner up... believing they’ll face another duo. Instead, they are forced to compete against the person they trusted most. It’s one of the show’s most emotional moments.

This twist reveals a haunting truth: under pressure, even trust can become a tool for survival or a casualty of fear.

But again, there are moments of humanity. Characters like Kang Sae-byeok, a North Korean defector, and Ji-yeong, a quiet young woman with a tragic past, choose connection over survival. Ji-yeong sacrifices herself so that Sae-byeok... who wants to reunite her family... can continue.

A Harsh Mirror to Society

The appeal of Squid Game isn’t just in its storytelling... it’s in its brutal realism.

In South Korea, personal debt is among the highest in the world. Many citizens work multiple jobs, live paycheck to paycheck, and carry massive loans. The “game” they face is real... it's just slower, and the violence is quieter.

Globally, people saw themselves in these characters. The system may be different, but the pain is the same: working endlessly and barely surviving, being told that failure is your fault, while the rich play by different rules.

Even the VIPs... masked spectators who bet on the players... are symbolic. They represent the wealthy elite, observing the suffering of others as a form of entertainment. They don’t care who wins. To them, it’s all a show.

The Ending and Its Message

When Seong Gi-hun wins, he doesn’t walk away victorious. He’s broken. Traumatized. Alone. He doesn’t spend the money. He can’t find peace in wealth that came at such a cost.

The real victory is when he decides to confront the system. The final scenes show him rejecting a new life of luxury in order to try and stop the game from continuing. It's a clear message: personal success is hollow if others are still trapped in suffering.

The Moral of the Story

The real game isn’t in an arena... it’s in the systems we live in. And while we may not control the rules, we can choose how we play. Humanity, integrity, and compassion are what define true success... not wealth won at the cost of others.

Squid Game teaches us that survival without soul is empty. But courage, even in the face of despair, is powerful. The greatest win is not outlasting others... it's refusing to become what the world expects you to be.