Reflecting on the concept of Severance, it’s surprising that the “innies” – individuals trapped in an endless cycle of office work – don’t harbor a deeper resentment towards their “outies” – their alternate selves who exist outside of the office. While outies are free to live an unencumbered life, unburdened by the drudgery and humiliation of office life, innies are confined to their roles. Every time they step into the elevator at the end of their shifts, triggering the switch to their outie persona, innies simply blink and return to the sterile corridors of the nefarious biotechnology firm, Lumon Industries. Their existence is devoid of weekends, holidays, or even time to sleep.
Spoilers ahead for Severance season 2. No spoilers for the finale, “Cold Harbor.”
The first season of Severance premiered during the early stages of the COVID pandemic, when many of us were grappling with our own work-life balance issues. It introduced the show’s central concept – the idea that Lumon had pioneered a method to completely separate work and personal life experiences – and coined the terms “innie” and “outie” as a new cultural shorthand. However, the debut season often focused more on the outie perspective, sometimes to its detriment. In contrast, the second season of Severance strengthened its narrative by shifting its focus to the innie perspective, raising questions about their existence: Do they deserve full lives, or merely serve as tools for their outies to avoid undesirable tasks? Are they allowed to experience love? Are they even considered real people?
These concepts, previously touched upon in the show, became increasingly tragic as the second season progressed. We witnessed Adam Scott’s Mark S. grappling with the conflicting desires to rescue Lumon’s wellness counselor, Ms. Casey – revealed to be his outie’s supposedly deceased wife – and nurture a blossoming romance with fellow innie Hellie R. (Britt Lower). John Turturro’s Irving B. spent the entire season nursing a broken heart after the innie he fell in love with disappeared. Meanwhile, Zach Cherry’s Dylan G. found himself falling in love with his outie’s wife (Merritt Wever), who saw the best aspects of her struggling husband through his innie.
Innies owe their existence to their outies but lead a tortured life that essentially makes everything easier for their outies. The second season made it clear that the severance process, involving a brain injection that splits the innie and outie personas, creates an adult child who only exists to work. Innies lack understanding of science, history, or the world beyond what Lumon tells them. The company’s messaging to innies is focused solely on efficiency, output, and the cult-like adoration of its founder, Kier Eagan – akin to a scenario where Apple based its internal culture on worshiping Steve Jobs as a deity, complete with archaic rituals and holy texts.
Although we spent less time with outies in this season, the show provided a sharper perspective on their side of the severed experience. There’s a humorous nod to the “return to office” phenomenon, where Tramell Tillman’s Milchick practically begged the outies to return to Lumon following their innie revolt at the end of season one. In our world, the return to office (RTO) is largely driven by executives eager to oversee their employees’ work, rather than allowing them to work from home and potentially slack off.
We also gain insight into what outies lose by giving up their work life to their innies. When Dylan G.’s outie, Dylan George, is rejected for a basic job outside of Lumon, he learns that he can’t count his innie’s work time, as he didn’t actually experience it – a situation reminiscent of what we might lose by outsourcing work to AI tools. Severance isn’t just a trap for innies stuck in Lumon’s offices; their outies will also face difficulties landing a job elsewhere. The only choice is to remain loyal to Lumon and its founder, Kier, until retirement or death.
According to Dan Erickson, the creator and showrunner of Severance, this season was partially inspired by the recent Hollywood writer’s strike. “We were all discussing our guilds and having conversations about workers’ rights, what we owe our employers, and what we should reasonably expect in return… and how much of ourselves, our lives, and our energy we should be willing to give up for the sake of a job,” he said in an interview on episode 252 of the Engadget Podcast.
