Note: This article contains potential spoilers for The Snow Girl.

Miren: I’m not a very good journalist, you know.

Nacho: [Laughs]…No?

Miren: No… The rules, the… technique… I’m not the best at that. But I know how much you suffer when [expletive] your life. Victims don’t have to be perfect. We shouldn’t ask that of them. A victim is a victim. It doesn’t matter if they’re good or bad, a friend or daughter.

This quote by investigative journalist Miren Rojo encapsulates The Snow Girl’s overarching theme. Determined to get justice for victims of heinous crimes, Miren does whatever it takes to hold accountable those who would discard human life, even if that means breaking laws, violating professional ethics, or putting herself in harm’s way. Whereas season one (“The Snow Girl”) sees Miren trying to solve a case while grappling with her own past traumatic victimization, season two (“The Soul Game”)—which is this article’s focus—starts with her in a better place. Throughout the season, however, her desire to solve the case takes an increasing toll on her, both mentally and physically.

Arbitrary Versus Non-Arbitrary Social Relations

As a scholar of social and moral development, what interests me most about The Snow Girl and “The Soul Game” specifically is not so much the show’s how (e.g., its cinematography and acting) but rather its what. In other words, I appreciate the show’s centering of the inherent value of human life through the lens of a dogged journalist desperately trying to uncover the truth. Furthermore, the show has some important implications for how we as a society think about arbitrary social relations along both secular and sacred dimensions. Implications that, I argue, are not too different from those reasonably taken from Jesus’ articulation of the second greatest commandment and Paul’s mentioning of love being greater than faith and hope. A Christian worldview prioritizes treating others as ends rather than means, a theme underscored in Luke 15. Whereas the truth Miren fights to uncover pertains to what really happened and who is really responsible, one could argue that, from a Christian worldview, one goal of scripture is for us to discover who we really are.

In line with a 2024 paper, “arbitrary social relations” are those relations that can be organized differently to achieve the same goals. These relations can have social or moral implications. A popular example of the former is games, as evident through their robust cross-cultural variability. Whether comparing changes made within the same game or between games, the arbitrary nature of games is clear to see and viewed as acceptable by the participants through agreement or consensus. Problems arise, however, when some individuals do not agree, or when social relations are altered in ways that result in the immoral treatment of those involved. Imagine, for instance, individuals with more power or authority within a social group changing the rules of a game in a way that intentionally disadvantages or harms the other participants. This kind of “moral” arbitrariness would likely not last long, as those being disadvantaged or harmed would probably be critical of the changes, quit in rebellion, or protest in some other way. 

By and large, the latter situation characterizes season two of The Snow Girl, aptly titled “The Soul Game.” Even though Miren combats forms of arbitrary social relations in imperfect and even harmful ways, her motivations invite theological reflection. Specifically, what animates her is similar to what Christ’s parables in Luke 15 suggest should animate believers concerning our treatment of others.

The Problem of Arbitrary Social Relations

The problem of arbitrary social relations is not only a long-standing subject of scripture. Christian philosophers including Paul Ricoeur (1990/1992), Johannes van der Van (1998), and Nicholas Wolterstorff (2012) have also explored a variety of implications that a Christian worldview has for optimizing social relations within contemporary societies and institutions. Moreover, humanities and social science scholars have long been concerned with the nature of arbitrary social relations and the problems they can lead to when individuals are denied their inherent dignity. Drawing on philosophy and psychology, Social Cognitive Domain Theory (SCDT; 1983, 2002, 2023) asserts that one way to think about this distinction is through understanding a related distinction between the moral and societal domains of social judgment. Specifically, SCDT contends that through observing, participating, and thinking about social interactions, individuals actively construct categories (domains) of social interactions geared toward specific ends and governed by specific criteria.

Whereas the moral domain concerns interactions and relationships that are not arbitrary, as moral considerations constrain how we relate to others, societal considerations often have an arbitrary quality. And in line with SCDT and other crime drama protagonists, Miren encourages us to reflect on the criteria we bring to bear when understanding why we tend to be particularly invested in instances when others are treated arbitrarily in a manner that elicits moral considerations, and why we want those responsible to be held accountable. A reflection that is also encouraged in Luke 15’s “lost and found” passages.

Although not all criteria are understood sufficiently at the same time in development, the criteria people use to distinguish the moral from the societal include rule or authority-contingency, generalizability, and alterability. Games are important for social organization, functioning, and cohesion. Their main purpose is often to facilitate these social goals competitively. They are usually dictated by a set of rules established by consensus, some other decision-making process, or an authority figure (rule or authority-contingent). They can also be highly local or contextualized, as with the game involving students at a particular school, or the variability in games throughout the world (non-generalizable). Finally, rules are often amenable to change as long as enough people agree or the relevant person(s) agree (alterable).

When these goals come at the expense of others’ inherent dignity, however, passages like Luke 15 remind us that no one should be devalued to the point that they are subjected to arbitrary treatment that negates their individual-ness or personhood. This is the problem presented in The Snow Girl’s second season, which centers around a “soul game” created by friends at a private high school in which vulnerable youth are “chosen” to participate in a series of potentially harmful challenges to measure their faith in God.

From the nature of its rules to the way victims are dehumanized and discarded, the game tries to destroy the essence of what makes its participants human (their souls) through physical and spiritual harm. Those in charge of the game can easily decide to harm them as much and as long as they want (implying a kind of alterability). And because the “players” are made to believe their participation in the game can elevate their faith (and thus, their status in God’s eyes), those in charge can also dictate the terms of the game without fear of revolt or accountability (implying a kind of rule or authority-contingency).

Miren’s Quest through the Lens of Luke 15

Returning to Miren’s earlier quote about victims, our disapproval of the immoral treatment of persons points to our belief in their inherent dignity. For Miren, this dignity is worth preserving regardless of the status of the person who is “lost,” be they missing, dead, or forgotten in the sense that justice was not served and is no longer pursued. Luke 15 adds a further spiritual dimension to being lost.

Across the chapter’s three “lost and found” stories, the overarching theme is that there is more rejoicing in heaven over one who repents than over many who do not need to. In other words, from a Christian worldview, there is an inherent dignity of persons that includes yet supersedes our membership in the human race. We are immensely valuable to God because we bear His image, and God yearns to reconcile us to Him so that our status as image-bearers is fully realized. By extension, no one who bears God’s image should be subjected to the sort of arbitrary treatment seen in the “The Soul Game.”

Given its use of a game that treats people arbitrarily, contrasting the season with Luke 15 may be particularly useful for encouraging theological reflection concerning our own social relations. In his first story (vv. 1-7), Jesus asks listeners to imagine Pharisees and teachers of the law losing one of a hundred sheep and leaving the other ninety-nine to find it. In the second (vv. 8-10), a woman loses one of her ten coins and diligently searches for it. Lastly, a father loses one of his two sons (figuratively speaking) when he takes his inheritance and leaves home, returning only after squandering his wealth due to poor decisions; even so, the father is jubilant at the son’s return (vv. 11-32). Taken together, these stories point to our inherent dignity while encouraging us to act in accordance with said dignity in our relationships with others.

Three features in particular help illustrate this. First, the searchers (the Pharisees and teachers of the law, the woman, and the father) all vary in social status. Second, the “accounted for/unaccounted for” ratio varies across the stories, ranging from very small (1% missing) to parity (50% missing). Third, the nature of the missing objects varies from animal to inanimate object to human. Jesus seems systematic in his approach with these parables, appealing to the many things we value and how we relate to them. If we are relentlessly searching for something valuable, then how much more will this be the case for God, who infinitely loves and constantly pursues us?

Moreover, just as these stories highlight the fact that to God, our worth cannot be reduced to a quantitative calculus (e.g., having ninety-nine sheep does not diminish the value of the hundredth sheep that happens to be missing), Luke 15 also suggests that we should not reduce our relations with others to quantitative calculations. Instead, our worth is defined qualitatively through our Maker, and we should treat others with this understanding in mind.

By distorting the essence of Luke 15, “The Soul Game” accentuates the problem of arbitrary social relations rooted in the immoral treatment of others. Two ways these distortions manifest are through the (1) conflation of animate and inanimate objects via treating persons and their desire to improve their faith in God as pieces on a chessboard to be used and discarded on a whim, and (2) an apparent subjective conception of victimization (i.e., those responsible for the game are willing to subject the players to things they would probably not subject non-players to). Further, one wonders whether the fact that the game is secretive and presumably only involves a few players makes it easier to discard their humanity in ways akin to the kinds of quantitative calculations Luke 15 pushes back against. This pushback is seen in Miren’s imperfect yet relatable attempts to rectify these distortions through her more objective conception of victimization, refusal to take victims’ social status into account, and refusal to reduce any victim to an object or statistic. (“A victim is a victim. It doesn’t matter if they’re good or bad, a friend or daughter.”)

Relentless Pursuit as the Solution for Arbitrary Social Relations

Throughout “The Soul Game,” we see Miren working tirelessly to uncover the truth behind a person’s death and reclaim a victim’s dignity, often at great professional and personal risk. In Luke 15, Jesus appeals to our dignity as image bearers using a variety of relatable stories about things we value. Although Miren’s actions occur against a backdrop of error and fallibility, the parables point us to the One who, in His perfection and goodness, chooses to imbue us with inalienable worth and dignity in spite of our error and fallibility. In cases where someone is presumed “lost”—whether due to others’ actions or our own—both Miren and Jesus generally agree on the solution to the problem of arbitrary social relations: relentless pursuit.

As those who, in our everyday lives, can simultaneously operate as the pursued (e.g., concerning our relationship with God) and pursuers (e.g., concerning our relationship with others), we are constantly presented with opportunities to interact with others in arbitrary and non-arbitrary ways. Hopefully, shows like The Snow Girl remind us of the importance of taking this distinction seriously.