As March 2025 came to a close, I saw countless posts online about how Severance wasn’t just the best show of the month, but will likely be the best show of the year. On a Tuesday night, feeling bored and curious, I pressed play on the pilot episode. I didn’t expect it to live up to the acclaim, but…let’s just say I had finished season two by the following Monday.
The show’s premise is unique: Imagine “work-life balance” being taken way too seriously. A company called Lumon, which provides jobs to nearly half the town, offers an experimental procedure called “severance.” Basically, they have doctors operate on your brain to sever your work self, or “innie,” from your original self, or “outie.” That way, when you enter or leave work, your brain switches, transforming your consciousness into that of your other self.
Mark Scout (Adam Scott) is one of an unknown number of employees who work on the severed floor of the Lumon building. His outie has no idea what he does for work, and his innie has none of his memories or knowledge of the outside world.
The show is incredibly stylized, especially when it comes to scenes shot inside the Lumon building. From the perfectly symmetrical lobby to the sterile, white hallways, the aesthetics work to create a sense of monotony and control. Retro-futuristic elements, including vintage cars and furniture alongside computers with advanced software, also contribute to the eeriness of the severed floor. There are hundreds of fan theories about the intricacies of the set designs—as well as Lumon conspiracies, predictions, and characters’ insights—but that’s a different article.
Because Severance feels so immersive, I didn’t consider the plot’s real-world implications at first. I was grabbed by the characters, their relationships with one another, and the rollercoaster of emotions that the finale sent me on. But the more I thought about the show, the more questions it raised.
During the first season, the biggest question viewers should be asking is simple: What happens when we separate our work from our personal lives? Further, what happens when we give half our lives away to a system that doesn’t see us as human beings?
As a college student, entering the workforce full-time is a scary thought. I can imagine how easy it might be to get caught in a cycle, sitting at a desk for hours each day so that I may have some sliver of a personal life. I wonder what the system of capitalism costs us emotionally and creatively. While I would not want to become severed, many fans of the show have considered whether life would be better or worse if that were possible.
According to research by Savanta, commissioned by Unmind, a UK-based mental health organization, 35 percent of UK workers would be willing to undergo the severance procedure. People who answered the survey this way cited reasons such as their work consuming too much of their identity and feeling like their work persona was a performative version of themselves. Gen-Zers were even more likely to want to opt into the severance procedure. Considering the mental health crisis among today’s youth, the implications of this data are extremely worrying. Are we so desperate to escape our reality that we would be willing to give up our consciousness for half of each day? Is the world so dark that a literal dystopia doesn’t seem so bad?
While Severance provides us with an extreme representation of having a separate work identity, these sentiments are shared by many. Dan Erickson, the screenwriter, said that the idea for the show came to him while walking to a job he had absolute disdain for. As he told Script Magazine, he thought, “What if there was some way to just disassociate, and for my body to do whatever it needs to do over the next eight hours to earn this paycheck—to not have to consciously experience it?” After processing how “messed up” that was, he realized, “there’s definitely a story there.”
Of course, some of the greatest art has come from a place of pain, and I’m thankful Erickson decided to do something with his. However, the show explores so much more than the work-life balance.
Season 2 explores the question of what, if anything, transcends the severance barrier. As we learn more about the innies and outies, it becomes clear that each one is a separate character with their own autonomy. Executive Producer Ben Stiller told Deadline, “Innie Mark has his own life. Outie Mark has his own life. Outie Mark, we meet first in terms of understanding what he wants, but then over the course of the first and second season, innie Mark is living his life and developing these emotional attachments and relationships in his life that are very valid.” Mark S., as his innie is called, has a much different perspective on severed life than outie Mark Scout. They are so different from each other, in fact, that the central conflict by the end of the second season is between the two.
Not only does the differentiation between innies and outies impose an impressive challenge on the actors, it also raises questions about whether there is an innate sense of self. How much of our identity is shaped by our environment, traumas, and relationships? If you were rid of your memories, what would remain?
It’s impossible to imagine who I would be without the people and experiences that have shaped me. Even in school or at work, I can’t separate who I am outside of that place, and that’s a good thing. All parts of ourselves are valuable. My academic experiences have contributed to who I am as a person, and vice versa.
Severance reminded me of the inherent value people hold beyond their productivity. But the possibilities of what could happen in season 3 loom over me. Will I find answers, or face more questions? Are there sides to be taken—Team Innie vs. Team Outie? How separate are the two, really?
Whatever happens, fans will have more theories than Swifties have about when Taylor’s next album is dropping. It’ll be tough to keep up, but well worth it.