The global sensation Squid Game has sparked conversations worldwide, but what is the true Squid Game impact on children? As parents, we must explore how violent media like this influences young minds and find ways to shield their innocence in an increasingly connected digital world.
Recently, my children came home humming the tune from Squid Game. They were cheerful and full of energy, but there was a hint in their excitement that unsettled me. When I asked them where they knew the song from, they told me they had heard it on their classmates’ phones and in conversations at school. Moreover, they started talking enthusiastically about the “games” from the series, and, most difficult for me to process, they asked directly: “Do people in Squid Game really die playing the games we play outside? How are they killed?”
I have two boys, aged 7 and 10. They told me that other kids in their class had watched the series at home and that during recess, they were playing “death games” inspired by it. I froze. I didn’t know how to respond, and I didn’t want to burden their imaginations with unsettling details. But I knew one thing for certain: their world—a child’s world where innocence replaces monstrosity—had just been compromised.
In the corner of the room, on the carpet, their favorite toys lay forgotten: a box of Kapla blocks and a Lego set. When did screens become more captivating than the innocent games born from their pure imagination?
This wasn’t the first time the internet had knocked on our door—silent, insidious—bringing with it worlds that are not meant for them. What saddens me most is that it wasn’t their childlike wonder that brought them there, but a kind of ravenous, almost consuming curiosity fuelled by something I can only describe as social pressure. I never would have thought that at 7 and 10 years old, this pressure could already be so real.
Violent imagery and dark themes like those in Squid Game can have a profound impact on a child’s developing brain. Early exposure to such content can activate stress mechanisms, heighten anxieties, and desensitise them to suffering. Instead of fostering empathy and emotional security, their minds may begin to view fear or life-and-death competition as normal realities. At an age when they should be exploring the world with curiosity and confidence, such images can cast deep shadows over their understanding of good, evil, and the boundaries between them.
I told my children that Squid Game is just a TV series, that the actors don’t die, but that the story itself is not meant for kids. They looked at me confused, disappointed, as though I had forbidden them something that had already become a source of fascination.
They went to bed with anxiety and had nightmares for several nights in a row.
I felt guilty. But I also felt angry—angry at the internet’s open, unsecured door, at the lack of parental control, and at the reality that the virtual world pushes images and ideas into their safe space, invading their childhood.
What remains of childhood when it’s torn apart by violent images? Their developing brains can’t differentiate between imagined and real danger. When did the bloody competition of adults manage to seep into games about talking animals and princesses? I’m not sure exactly when. But I saw something change in their eyes, something that made me wonder if we hadn’t already lost a battle we didn’t even know we were fighting.
I’ve come to resent the technological flow and the algorithms’ “recommendations.” They’re not for us. They’re not for children. They’re for an appetite that grows the more it feeds on something—be it curiosity, anxiety, or the feeling of needing to keep up with others. It’s a trap, a chase that transforms and consumes, leaving no room for those innocent moments of getting lost in the world of childhood.
My children no longer talk about Squid Game. Maybe they’ve forgotten. Maybe they’ve just learned not to ask me about it anymore. But every evening when I read their favorite bedtime stories, every day when I see them building miniature worlds with Lego, I can’t help but wonder what else—what other images, what other “realities”—are lurking around the corner, ready to be pushed in front of them. Sometimes I feel like I’m putting bandages on a wall that’s already been breached.
I wonder if there is any refuge from it.
Useful Resources:
Creating a Safe Online Environment
How to Keep Your Child Safe Online
Violence in The Media and Video-Games
Alarming Psychological Effects of Violence in Children
TV and Movie Violence Guide for Parents
The Impact of Media and Violence on Children
The Effect of Violence in the Decision Making and Behaviour of Teens