From the moment Squid Game drops its first masked soldier onto the screen, the symbols on their faces demand attention. Circle, triangle, and square. They’re simple, geometric, and eerily familiar. They look like something pulled straight out of a PlayStation controller or a childhood game of tic-tac-toe. Or a mix of gaming symbols. However, these shapes aren’t just aesthetic choices. They’re visual cues loaded with meaning, controlling the flow of the story just as much as the rules of the games.
These symbols reflect hierarchy, function, and control. Yet, they also mirror the illusion of choice that traps players and guards alike. In a series where survival feels like a game, it’s no surprise that the visuals scream gamification. So, what do these shapes really mean? And how do they pull us deeper into the game’s endless cycle?
Press start — Shapes that control the game
Consider the square, triangle, and circle to be the ultimate game buttons. They are symbols that control the players as well as the guards.
The circle, smooth and endless, represents the workers, which are the lowest rank. They follow orders without questioning them. They're similar to characters coded to perform basic tasks in a video game. In gameplay terms, they’re the NPCs (non-playable characters) designed to maintain the illusion of the world around the real players.
The triangle is sharp and pointed, symbolizing enforcers. Here we have the armed soldiers. They make sure the game is played according to the rules. In order to achieve that, they precisely execute commands, much like the attack buttons on a video game controller. They’re the tentacles of the squid, quick to strike and impossible to escape.
The square, solid and unyielding, represents supervisors. They are the ones who issue commands and keep everything running. If the circle is the worker bee and the triangle is the soldier ant, the square is the queen holding the hive together. It’s the shape of stability but also confinement, reinforcing the system’s control.
Symbols decoded — Part 1: The PlayStation connection
If the symbols on the guards’ masks remind you of a PlayStation controller, you’re not alone in this. It’s a visual cue that reinforces the gamification of the series. However, the connection doesn’t stop there. These shapes also parallel the attack buttons on the PlayStation, turning the guards into real-life avatars controlled by an unseen player.
Square (□) — Fast strikes and blind execution
On the PlayStation, the square button is often used for quick attacks or basic actions. This button mirrors the workers in Squid Game. They are efficient, methodical, and designed for repetitive tasks. Whether cleaning up bodies or handing out supplies, their actions feel as programmed as pressing a button.
Triangle (△) — Strategic moves and control
The triangle button typically triggers special attacks or interactions, representing the armed enforcers in the series. They’re sharp, dangerous, and always ready to act. Much like the triangle on the controller, these guards maintain the system’s order, moving with precision to eliminate threats and enforce rules.
Circle (O) — Dodging danger and submission
Often used for dodging or canceling actions, the circle button parallels the lowest-ranking guards, who operate passively, avoiding direct confrontation. They don’t act unless ordered, blending into the background like obedient NPCs (non-playable characters) in a larger game.
X (✕) — The illusion of choice
While not featured on the guards’ masks, the X button plays a crucial role in Squid Game. It’s the button for selecting options—yes or no, proceed or stop. It mirrors the illusion of choice that defines the series. From the red and blue envelopes to the voting system in which it is present, it gives players a false sense of control. When a player presses X, their decision feels deliberate. However, this is ultimately just another move in a pre-scripted game.
Are we players or pieces?
By borrowing visuals from gaming culture, Squid Game makes us question whether the guards are controlling the system or simply pressing the buttons they’re told to. And outside the game? We, the viewers, aren’t so different. We watch, rewatch, and analyze breadcrumbs and Easter Eggs, and we theorize, just like players obsessed with clearing the next level.
Symbols decoded — Part 2 — Hidden meanings in Korean culture
Circle—loops, harmony, and no way out
In Korean culture, the circle (원 won) is a symbol of harmony, unity, and eternity. It’s deeply tied to the taegeuk on the South Korean flag, representing the balance of yin and yang, the dual forces that keep the universe in motion. Sounds peaceful, huh? Not so much in Squid Game, no.
Here, the circle feels less like harmony and more like entrapment, reflecting the endless cycles the players are caught in. Like their life outside of the game, it's a never-ending circle. There is a mountain of debt, the chances are stacked against them, and following the rules set by others is crucial to their survival. Even the guards wearing the circle masks operate on repeat, stuck as cogs in the machine. Harmony? More like a hamster wheel.
Triangle — Direction, chaos, and sharp edges
In Korean tradition, the triangle (△samgak) represents stability and direction but also hints at change and growth. It’s a shape that points up, suggesting progress or ambition. But turn it upside down, and it’s a collapse waiting to happen.
In Squid Game, the triangle plays both roles. The guards with these masks are the enforcers, wielding weapons and enforcing the rules, but their sharp edges also scream danger. They’re the tip of the spear. They are designed to strike first and never ask questions. And let’s not forget the triangle’s resemblance to mountains, a symbol of challenge and protection in Korea. Only in this game, the climb is steep, and not everyone makes it to the top.
Square — Rules, boundaries, and boxed-in lives
The square (□ bang) is all about order, structure, and boundaries. It’s everywhere in Korean culture, from architectural designs to the hangul alphabet, where it frames letters like a neat little box. While squares represent control, they also represent confinement.
In the game, the squares are the managers, overseeing the chaos while staying safely behind the lines. Their role reinforces the idea of a rigid system, one where stepping outside the box isn’t just discouraged—it’s deadly. And really, what’s more symbolic of capitalism than a square? It’s a frame, a building block, and a prison all at once.
The symbols were never just shapes
Taken together, the circle, triangle, and square aren’t random choices. They're visual puzzles loaded with meaning. They echo Korean philosophy, hint at cultural roots, and reinforce Squid Game’s deeper message: whether in harmony, growth, or structure, we’re all navigating shapes we didn’t choose, hoping to break free.
Symbols decoded — Part 3 — Letters and layers in Hangul
The circle, triangle, and square are embedded in Korean culture, including its alphabet, Hangul. Designed to be simple yet deeply symbolic, these shapes reflect cosmic balance and linguistic structure, making their use in the series even more layered.
Circle (ㅇ) — Emptiness or endless loops?
In Hangul, the circle (ㅇ) is a silent consonant when placed at the beginning of a word and sounds like ng when it appears at the end. But its symbolism goes beyond phonetics. It represents the sky, harmony, and completeness.
In Squid Game, the circle takes on a darker tone. It mirrors the zero. It's about emptiness, insignificance, and cycles that never end. Lock and load, repeat. The guards wearing this symbol are workers stuck in repetitive tasks, echoing the circular motion of their roles. Their masks strip them of individuality. When they're using them, they become placeholders in a system designed to grind them down.
Triangle (△) — Direction, ambition, and sharp edges
The triangle isn’t a letter in hangul, but it does appear in symbols representing movement and growth. Like mountains rising toward the sky. It’s a shape loaded with progress and instability, reflecting paths that lead upward but can also collapse downward.
In Squid Game, the triangles are enforcers, armed and dangerous. Their sharp angles scream authority, but their roles also carry fragility. While they enforce rules, they are easily replaced. They're just another part of the machine. Like climbing a mountain, their position seems strong—until the ground shifts beneath them.
Square (ㅁ) — Control, confinement, and the frame
In hangul, the square (ㅁ) represents the m sound, but visually, it symbolizes the earth, grounding, and structure. It’s often seen as a frame, something that organizes and confines.
The guards with square masks in Squid Game embody this energy. They’re managers, overseeing the chaos while staying protected behind the system’s rigid rules. But squares also create boxes, and these managers, despite their authority, are locked inside their own boundaries. Even though they are masters of the game, they are prisoners of its rules.
Sky, earth, and humanity — A distorted harmony
In Korean culture, the circle, triangle, and square are tied to the samtaeguk, which is a symbol of harmony between the sky (circle), earth (square), and humanity (triangle). They reflect balance and connection. But in Squid Game, that harmony shatters.
Instead of unity, the shapes divide. Instead of balance, they enforce hierarchy. The cosmic order turns into a trap. Players and guards alike are reduced to shapes. Both are trapped in a twisted puzzle they can’t escape.
Even the title plays the game
The symbolism in Squid Game starts before its very first scene. It’s right there in the title. The stylized logo. In the Korean script (오징어 게임, Ojingeo Geim), the triangle replaces the letter 'ㅇ' (ieung), which is usually a circle in the hangul alphabet. The series' themes of tension, danger, and competition are reflected in the shift from smooth to sharp shapes, disrupting the hierarchy.
The triangle in the title also connects to the shapes on the guards’ masks, linking the design to the story’s themes. It’s as if the name itself serves as a geometric warning, preparing viewers for the chaos and manipulation that define the game.
This subtle yet major stylization of the Squid Game logo hints at the power dynamics in play. This subtle switch mirrors the hierarchy seen in the guards’ masks, where each shape represents a different level of authority.
By replacing the circle with a triangle, the tone of the series is entirely shifted. Visually, this change prepares viewers for the tension and violence to come. It signals a move up the hierarchy, hinting that this isn’t a game about balance or harmony. Squid Game is all about power, control, and sharp edges cutting through illusions.
Checkpoints and camouflage — Hiding in plain sight
Masks, uniforms, and symbols—these guards in Squid Game are walking codes. Rendered anonymous by them, stripped of individuality, they become extensions of the game rather than independent players. Much like a squid’s camouflage, their matching outfits allow them to blend into the rules of the system, enforcing its logic without breaking character.
But the guards aren’t the only ones hiding in plain sight. The players’ teal uniforms are another form of camouflage. Are they green? Blue? Bluish? Teal? Blue often symbolizes humanity, while green represents greed and survival. Together, they reflect the players’ internal battle between desperation and hope. Their outfits make them look uniform, reducing their individuality and blending them into the system, just like the guards. Whether dressed in pink or teal, everyone in the game is part of the same illusion. All of them are trapped and playing a role assigned to them.
And let’s not forget the color of the uniform of the "pink soldiers." Depending on the light, their uniform colors flicker between pink, red, and magenta. And magenta is not even a color per se. It isn’t even a “real” color. It's an illusion created by light. It’s a perfect metaphor for the illusion of free will within the game, where players believe they’re making choices but are really just following pre-set patterns.
Game over or reset? — Loops and illusions of control
Ever played tic-tac-toe and realized it’s impossible to win if both players know what they’re doing? Squid Game leans into that same logic. It has the Xs and Os of a never-ending game. In the voting system, they can look like real options or even moves that feel strategic. However, they ultimately go nowhere.
The circle, like the loops of the players’ lives, suggests cycles that never end. The triangle, pointing upward, mirrors the illusion of climbing higher. Its sharp edges, however, can also point down, hinting at how easily progress turns into failure.
Even the voting system in Squid Game—with buttons for “yes” and “no”—feels like an extension of this illusion. Like the shapes, the buttons give the appearance of choice, but the outcomes are already rigged. Once you’re inside the game, every move pushes you deeper into its web.
The front man — The ultimate controller?
While the guards operate like pawns, the Front Man is the one holding the controller. And he does so both literally and figuratively speaking. His sleek black mask sets him apart as the “boss fight” of the game, a final level the players can’t bypass without consequences.
Unlike the guards, whose masks are geometric and uniform, the Front Man’s design is angular and fragmented, reflecting the cracks in his own morality. He’s both part of the system and outside it, operating in shadows but always pulling the strings. Think of him as the player who’s put down the controller but refuses to log out.
Nostalgia and capitalism — Trapped outside the game
But here’s the real twist: while Squid Game critiques exploitation and survival under capitalism, we, the audience, became players ourselves. The show sparked a wave of nostalgia and consumerism, turning deadly games into merchandised novelties. From buying dalgona candy kits to playing real-life versions of "Red Light, Green Light" or dressing up as guards and players, we’ve gamified the very critique the show delivers.
Are we simply participating in another level of the game? Consuming the message while spinning the same capitalist wheels it criticizes? Maybe the real squid game is happening outside the arena, and we’re all contestants without realizing it. Or we actually know that and just don't care.
Conclusion? Well, in Squid Game, symbols aren’t just decorations. They’re keys to unlocking the system. Lock and load, repeat.