“The life of man is solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short.” — Thomas Hobbes
When Thomas Hobbes penned these chilling words in Leviathan, he wasn’t writing about a Netflix series or a dystopian movie. Yet, centuries later, these lines find a haunting resonance in shows like Squid Game and movies like The Purge. These works mirror the grotesque beauty of human ambition, fear, and survival instincts, wrapped in systems that strip away humanity to lay bare its raw, primal form.
At first glance, Squid Game might seem like a brutal series of child-like games twisted into a death trap. But isn’t that a metaphor for corporate culture?
Imagine this: The games are designed to pit the desperate against each other, much like corporations do with KPIs (Key Performance Indicators), promotions, and quarterly targets. Each player in the series enters the arena not for fun but out of sheer desperation — crippling debt, societal shame, or the unattainable promise of a better life. Now picture the corporate world.
Employees compete not to survive physically but financially and socially. The polished office corridors may lack the blood-soaked fields of Squid Game, but the consequences of failure — losing a job, dignity, or stability — are just as catastrophic.
Take the infamous game of tug-of-war from the series. Isn’t that what teamwork often feels like in organizations? Teams are thrown together, often a mismatched group of individuals with varying strengths and weaknesses, asked to pull not just the rope but their collective weight against invisible forces — competition, deadlines, and leadership expectations.
Success in Squid Game often came from cunning strategy and luck, not fairness. Similarly, in the corporate colosseum, promotions are seldom handed to the “most deserving” but to the smartest political players, much like the victors of Squid Game who navigate alliances and betrayals.
“Man is by nature a social animal.” — Aristotle
Philosophers have long debated whether humans are inherently good or evil. While Aristotle believed in our innate sociability, Hobbes saw life as a grim competition for survival. Watching Squid Game or living through the rat race of a capitalist society makes one lean toward Hobbes.
The VIPs in Squid Game represent the elites, who sit atop the pyramid, reveling in the chaos they orchestrate for their amusement. Similarly, in today’s economic systems, billionaires and CEOs (the corporate VIPs) observe from the top floors of skyscrapers while workers scramble in an endless cycle of competition and burnout.
“The condition of man… is a condition of war of everyone against everyone.” — Thomas Hobbes
In both, the suffering of the masses becomes a spectacle, their survival a sport. The dystopia lies in the normalization of this power dynamic.
Movies like The Purge take this a step further. They posit a world where humanity’s darkest instincts are unleashed in a controlled window of chaos. While Squid Game disguises cruelty under the guise of games, The Purge strips away even that pretense. Yet, both expose the same truth: under the veneer of civility lies a primal being, ready to claw, bite, and kill for survival.
“Freedom without opportunity is a devil’s gift.” — Noam Chomsky
The systems we live in today are far more sophisticated than the fictional dystopias of Squid Game or The Purge, but they share similar themes. Economic inequality, mounting debt, and a growing disconnect between the elites and the common populace are the silent killers of the modern era.
Debt as the New Shackles:
In Squid Game, the contestants are drowning in debt — a condition so relatable in today’s world that it feels less fiction and more documentary. Student loans, mortgages, medical expenses — aren’t these the ropes tying modern individuals to an endless race of survival?
Meritocracy or Mirage?
The dystopia deepens when you realize that meritocracy — a concept lauded as the backbone of capitalism — is often a myth. Just as the Squid Game contestants believed they had a fair shot, employees are led to believe in the “American Dream” or its equivalents worldwide. Yet, systemic inequalities rig the game long before anyone begins playing.
Workplace Politics:
The alliances, betrayals, and manipulations in Squid Game reflect everyday office life. The “survivors” in the corporate world often aren’t the most skilled but the most adaptable to its toxic rules, willing to play the game even at the cost of morality.
Where’s the way?
Despite its bleakness, Squid Game also holds up a mirror to resilience, teamwork, and the flickering humanity that refuses to die even in the darkest corners. The same can be said for today’s world. While systems may be unfair, individuals can rise above through ingenuity, collaboration, and a refusal to accept the status quo.
In both the fictional universes of Squid Game and The Purge and the real-life arena of corporate culture, humans are thrust into systems designed to test their very essence. While dystopian tales may exaggerate, their underlying truths remain uncomfortably close to reality.
As Hobbes argued, life without structure descends into chaos. The question remains: are our current systems a semblance of order, or are they merely dressed-up chaos?
“The line between good and evil cuts through the heart of every human being.” — Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn
As we navigate this complex web of survival, let’s remember the power of empathy and the potential for change.
Whether you’re a player in the corporate game or a spectator in the global arena, the choice to remain human — or become a pawn — is ultimately yours.
