Netflix's Squid Game isn't playing
Under the dark story of survival, The South Korean super hit explores the hopelessness of crushing debt and inescapable poverty
If the old saying is true that art imitates life, then we have reason for concern based on the sort of movies, shows, music, and art that’s being produced and consumed these days.
Right now the top hit (en route to being the most watched so ever) on Netflix is the Korean-produced series “Squid Game.” That’s followed closely by the miniseries “Maid.” And these are not too far off the heels of an entire slate of dystopian movies constructed around the realities of extreme income inequality.
I’m going to do my best to not offer any spoilers - but I have to talk about these shows a bit to make my points. So be warned. But by the time you’re done reading this, you won’t know any of the details about the shows that aren’t already widely available.
Squid Game is built on the crushing effect of debt - and the concept that those in poverty are victims of a rigged game that never gives them a fair shot. In the show, those who decide to sign up for a series of fatal games for the chance to win an incredible amount of money are at least given a fair, and equal, shot at wealth.
The response I get when talking to others about Squid Game generally falls into a few categories:
That’s too violent, and I can’t handle that. (It is a remarkable violent show).
Things must be terrible in Korea. I’m sure glad it’s not that way here.
Wow! I guess things are really bad all around the world.
Here’s the trailer. Again - it’s violent.
After finishing Squid Game, I found myself curious about the root of the show. In America, we have our own brand of movies about poverty - but they almost invariably involve a protagonist who overcomes every obstacle to escape the clutches of poverty and emerge a better person - with at least two extra nickels to rub together. Or Hollywood just gets the whole nuanced reality of poverty wrong.
Depicting the complex realities of poverty — not just its hollowed-out emptiness but attendant emotions of shame and despair — has always been tricky. That’s doubly true for those employed by Hollywood. Filmmakers in Europe and Asia have stronger track records….
It’s the rags-to-riches story we like here - going all the way back to the 1860s tales of “Ragged Dick” penned by Horatio Alger and elevated to the status of national lore. It’s the original “pull yourself up by your bootstraps” tale - and one that stuck around in popular literature until the 1920s. But we still use it today as the formula for the story of poverty in America.
What we don’t like is a story that says more people are in poverty than we care to admit, that the game is rigged, that middle class and poor people get pitted against one another, and that most people will never escape the station of their birth. And there’s good reason not to like that story - it’s super depressing, and forces an inward look at our own economic realities.
Squid Game doesn’t shy away from that - likely because in Korea, the economic realities are inescapable - and impossible to whitewash. And because filmmakers there have a better history of looking poverty squarely in the eye.
The reason debt plays such an outsized role in Squid Game is because it plays an outsized role in Korean Life. Household debt in South Korea is 103 percent of per capita GDP, and in 2007, it was 71 percent. For additional comparison, it’s currently 78 percent in the U.S. That’s down from 84 percent in 2020. In 2007-2008 - you remember when fast-and-loose lending caused a capital collapse and sparked an international recession - the U.S. Household debt was 99 percent of GDP.
When I read numbers like this, and see how the reality of such debt is portrayed in modern art, I can’t help but think of this episode of Pitchfork Economics - which talked about how when the uber-wealthy have so much money they can’t figure out how to make more - they find new and creative ways to put more people further in debt, and how getting out of poverty is more difficult - and falling into it easier - than we acknowledge. If we’re honest, we know that a lot of us are one medical emergency, one missed paycheck, away from poverty.
My curiosity also led me to look at Korea’s poverty rate. Overall, the country has a 16.7 percent poverty rate, while youth in poverty (0-17) hovers around 12.3 percent. The biggest issue facing Korea is elderly poverty, which is a staggering 43 percent.
In 2019, 14.4 percent of all children under the age of 18 in the United States were living below the official poverty measure. About 6 percent were living in deep poverty, defined as 50 percent of the federal poverty measure, and almost one-quarter were living in poverty or at risk, defined as 150 percent of the official measure. When using the SPM, which counts noncash benefits from government programs such as the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (SNAP) and measures poverty more comprehensively, the child poverty rate in America is 12.5 percent.
The overall U.S. poverty rate is 11.5 percent, according to the U.S. Census Bureau. The U.S. elderly poverty rate is 8.9 percent, far lower than Korea’s - though our rate has been growing since the 1970s. Most attribute the depression-era Social Security program as the primary reason we have fewer people in poverty.
Here’s a comparison of the U.S. and Korea done by the Organizations for Economic Cooperation and Development. To read the full reports, go here for Korea and here for the United States.
I don’t know how you felt looking at that, but for me it was something like this:
Based on the information that I’ve seen, I’m thinking this fits in the whole Biblical “don’t condemn the splinter in another’s eye when you have a log in yours.” It might feel pretty nice to watch something like Squid Game, and think to ourselves how we’re insulated from some of those inequities here - but the evidence - both anecdotally from the lived experiences of people in poverty (which will be featured in an upcoming podcast) and the economic data - suggests otherwise.
And that brings me to the series Maid - which I haven’t started watching, but soon will. The trailer, conversations with those who have watched it, and subsequent reading I did about the show was enough to convince me that it’ll be a dynamic and authentic examination of how people move into poverty - and the constant strain of it.
Ultimately, shows like Squid Game and Maid are fictional forms of entertainment - but like much any good art and literature, they are rooted and inspired by our realities. We can be entertained by them, but it’s also wise, I think, to take away from them the underlying messages. It also means something worth paying attention to when such shows resonate so loudly, with so many people around the world.
All of this to say that if you have the stomach for it, watch Squid Games. It’s a good way to learn about other cultures and parts of the world, and also a good examination of humanity, systems, and the way a too-common international problem is seen through the eyes of people who live somewhere else.
And then, instead of falling into the warm comfort of “over-there-ism,” consider whether some collective self-reflection might be in order.
Because if we realize the Constitutional ideals of a “more perfect union,” it’s not enough to just say we’re awesome. We have to critically examine ourselves constantly - as a person, community, state, and country - and decide if we’re being the sort of people we want to be. And if we’re not, then we need to have the courage to admit it and take steps toward improvement.