Are We All in a Real-Life Squid Game? The Science Says Yes.

So did you finish the entire season 3 of Squid Game in exactly 6 hours, 6 minutes, and 85 seconds, because I totally did! And then, while I went to bed, all my brain could think was, what if we humans are already playing Squid Game, just that we aren’t aware of it? Wasting 6 more hours of my day, I gave it a thought: with science, could Squid Game exist right now, right here? Am I a player? Are you a player too? Didn’t sign up for it? Well, now you did!

Let's begin with the recruiter playing ddakji with the future players. The science? Creating a stress response, every loss is followed by a thundering slap. While that may be scary, it creates a tension between the amygdala, which is impulsive, and the prefrontal cortex, which is fearful and rational. We often see the amygdala winning, as the human mind is often desperate and irrational. As the game continues, our body tries to adapt to the gameplay, and mirror neurons are activated, letting us copy the actions of the recruiter. As our brain slowly gets adapted, it shows better hand-eye coordination and fine motor skills; it creates a special kind of muscle memory and spatial awareness. And boom, a single win lets out a splash of dopamine into our blood after we slap the recruiter, hence giving us a false feeling of temporary reward, often being the very reason for us to accept the proposal. The recruitment process tells us about the transitory nature of human consciousness and rationality.

Coming to the games, the infamous kid of the red light, green light game is nothing but a test of impulse control, for example, when you control your laughter during a serious discussion. The amygdala now has to balance with the adrenaline released by the gland, creating a flight situation. Successful players rely mostly on mental discipline or drugs! The idea is to create a balance between stress and focus, or hippocampus and prefrontal cortex. The auditory (girl's voice) and visual (lights) input heightens the alertness, often leading to twitching or movement due to exhaustion of the nervous system, but over time this exhaustion can also decrease the reaction time of our body, hence letting us focus more. Basically, you are trying not to double-text, enhancing self-control. takeaway? The herd mentality may or may not save you, but slowly letting your body decrease the reaction time will help you out.

The brittle honeycomb cutting game had us biting our nails in anxiety, but have you ever thought how a player can actually win it? Well, the game is the best physical manifestation of why the cerebellum is important. Well, the cerebellum gives us balance and dexterity, and adrenaline messes it up, but this very game creates a do-or-die situation, meaning there is a high probability of the adrenal gland overpowering the cerebellum. The 10-minute time limit adds on to a prolonged stress, releasing cortisol and hence impairing the hippocampus and prefrontal cortex. The smart player would have a highly developed anterior cingulate cortex drive creating strategies and plans. takeaway? Calmness in the storm, to develop your street smartness, then just educate with prenotioned thoughts. practice thinking than learning.

Let's be honest, we have all cried for Ali, the sweet guy betrayed to death, but have we ever done the same for a different “Ali’ We never know. The game of marbles is based on rationality and betrayal, skills needed to survive in a herd. A strong anterior cingulate cortex processes the moral conflicts better, creating less cognitive dissonance. Justification acts as a coping mechanism along with guilt and survival. This game challenges oxytocin, the hormone that creates bonding, and the prefrontal cortex tears down the barrier between loyalty and self-preservation. The aftermath leads to heightened action in the limbic system that processes guilt and shame, causing PTSD in survivors.

The chance-based game of the glass bridge is exceptionally tormenting and has the least chance of survival. The glass panels breaking are nothing but chance events causing the amygdala to create fear responses impairing judgment. Adrenaline causes shaky legs and prepares our mind for the worst, causing loss of balance. Another fear is generated by the anterior cingulate cortex that perceives aggression and fear of being pushed. The player who went first faced the harshest odds, while the later ones learned due to repeated behaviors causing an increase in chances of survival.

The mingle game is a notable fear-mongering game in the show; it creates a life-and-death situation for players, which makes them spike up adrenaline, and the temporary bonding may release oxytocin, giving a sense of false success, which may fail in the very next round. The game of betrayal is similar to the marble games, inducing PTSD and mental instability.

The hide-and-seek game features a very keen aspect of psychology and biology intermixed with each other. Hiding requires suppressed breathing and muscle stillness. The constant alertness creates an adrenaline exhaustion. The predator-prey dynamic creates paranoia and hypervigilance similar to panic attacks. The additional pressure of finding out the exit stands as an unfair disadvantage, adding to the hyperactivity of the human brain, causing “giving up.”

You must remember the young Hee and Cheol Su dolls holding a giant rope. Well, it was one of the most horrendous games of the season. It required strong calves and quadriceps, but the narrow bridge and the depth below added to the release of the adrenaline hormone, causing muscle fatigue. The game had a high cardiovascular demand, causing prolonged tension, raising the heartbeat and cortisol levels, and leading to trembling. The coordination with the rope was an important aspect; hence, many started to sync their jumps with the swinging rope to get ready.

The final Squid Game and the Sky Squid Game both have a bloodthirsty aspect to each. The physical combat in the Squid Game on land causes peak exertion, raising the heartbeat and risking blood loss as endorphins mask pain from injuries. The survival and moral instincts collapse here as Gi-hun and Sang-woo can no longer hold onto their trust and empathy. The sky squid game is an example of a huge moral dilemma along with the release of endorphins and high energy depletion, causing an impaired sense of coordination and reaction time. The place also adds on to the general acrophobia, causing the players to give up easily due to enraged anxiety. Altruism of Gihun fights well up against the animalistic survival instinct.

The food given to players per season plays a very important metaphorical role in favor of the ones who control them. In season 1 they receive a uniform meal of rice, soup, and boiled eggs, showing the fairness in the judgment of the hosts. The food is not likable yet provides enough nutrition but often becomes monotonous, but as the severity of the game proceeds, the food acts as a sense of reward to the surviving players. Season 2 also remains basic traditional Korean bento, but sometimes there was some extra food given to them, like before the sky squid game and final squid game, to celebrate it like a last supper. Season 3 shows rebellion in the form of refusal to eat. The food quantity becomes less, and variations are not seen until the second-to-last game. The reduced food heightens aggression and leads to sporadic behavioral patterns. Food also becomes a symbol of trauma bonding with other players. It forms and breaks groups while creating a sense of empathy within players, maybe for a limited amount of time. It becomes a symbol of powerlessness to control their life and choices for the players.

The desperation within the player led by guilt is the very baseline of this awakening show. The dehumanization of the guards is hidden under numbered uniforms and masks, while the choices given to the players are led by the thoughts of the shining money-holding pig in the middle. The hosts played a wonderful game of psychology to awaken the inner animal in humans, almost like racehorses. The game being in the hands of the player adds to the disadvantage due to moral disengagement and mob mentality. The survival of the fittest game only adds to the killing spree, crumbling down morals and logic. Slowly and steadily the fear of getting killed sets in, and players start to fall for greed more than necessity. The herd mentality crushes down people, causing frequent betrayal.

Even though the show is a brutal take on human nature, Gi-Hun says, “We are not horses; we are human, and humans are…’ as he lets you and me fill up the rest. Virtue exists in the world of hidden malice, untainted and real. Humans are and will be empathetic and humane. They are not horses built to kill and be killed. There exists a sweet grandma, a powerful sister, a well-wishing friend, or a trustable stranger... There exists a Gi Hun in us that can outgrow its nature of animal and sacrifice for the innocent. All of us are destined to live a limited life, and for once I wish that you, dear reader, find the player 456 in you, and while everyone turns into a horse, you stay a human.