Upon reflection, the characters referred to as Severance‘s “innies” — those individuals ensnared in an unending cycle of monotonous office duties — should harbor a deep-seated resentment towards their “outies,” the counterparts who experience a life free from these burdens. While the outies enjoy a seemingly untroubled existence, liberated from the drudgery, tedium, and indignities that come with office existence, the innies find themselves trapped with no means of escape. Each time they step into the elevator at the conclusion of their shifts, prompting the transition to their outie personas, the innies merely blink away, returning to the sterile corridors of the morally ambiguous Lumon Industries. There are no weekends, no holidays, and not even an opportunity to rest.

Editor’s note: The highly anticipated finale of Severance is now available, although this review was composed prior to the airing of the final episode of the second season. In exciting news, Apple has recently announced the renewal of the series for a third season, allowing us to continue exploring the intricate lives of Lumon’s employees.

Warning: Potential spoilers for Severance season 2 ahead. No spoilers for the finale, “Cold Harbor.”

The inaugural season of Severance debuted at a time when many were grappling with the repercussions of the COVID pandemic, highlighting prevalent issues surrounding work-life balance. It introduced the foundational concept that Lumon had developed a method to entirely dissociate work from personal experience, coining the terms “innie” and “outie” as a new cultural lexicon. However, the first season predominantly emphasized the outie perspective, sometimes excessively. In contrast, the second season of Severance significantly enhanced its narrative strength by delving deeper into the innie perspective. It raises profound questions: do innies deserve full lives, or are they merely the laborers for their outies? Are they permitted to experience love? Do they possess the essence of real human beings?

The exploration of these concepts regarding the innie experience grew increasingly poignant as season two progressed. We witnessed Adam Scott’s character, Mark S., grappling with conflicting desires: the urge to rescue Lumon’s wellness counselor, Ms. Casey, who was shockingly revealed to be the outie’s supposedly deceased wife, while also fostering a budding romance with fellow innie Hellie R. (portrayed by Britt Lower). Meanwhile, John Turturro’s Irving B. spent the entire season nursing a broken heart after the innie he loved vanished without a trace. In a twist, Zach Cherry’s Dylan G. found himself romantically entangled with his outie’s wife (played by Merritt Wever), who perceives the best qualities of her struggling husband through his innie persona.

The innies owe their very existence to their outies, yet they endure a tortured reality that serves to ease the burdens of those outies. Season two brought into focus the stark reality of the severance process, characterized by a brain injection that cleaves the innie and outie identities, effectively creating an adult child whose sole purpose revolves around labor. Innies lack fundamental knowledge of science, history, or the broader world, relying solely on the limited information provided by Lumon. Naturally, the company’s messaging directed at innies is laser-focused on productivity, output, and the almost cult-like veneration of its founder, Kier Eagan. (It’s reminiscent of how Apple seems to have based its internal culture on idolizing Steve Jobs as a deity, complete with archaic rituals and revered texts.)

Although the focus on outies was reduced in this season, the narrative still provided a sharper critique of their experience within the severance framework. A humorous nod to the “return to office” trend was evident when Tramell Tillman’s Milchick humorously had to plead with the outies to return to Lumon after the innie revolt at the end of season one. In reality, the return to office (RTO) trend largely highlights a desire among executives to monitor their employees diligently, rather than allowing them the opportunity to be less productive while working from home.

Furthermore, we gain insight into what outies sacrifice by relinquishing their work lives to their innies. When Dylan G.’s outie, Dylan George, faces rejection for a basic job outside of Lumon, he discovers he cannot account for his innie’s work time, as he did not personally experience it. This scenario draws parallels to the potential losses we might incur by outsourcing tasks to AI technologies. Severance portrays a dual trap: not only are innies confined within Lumon’s offices, but their outies also struggle to find employment elsewhere. The only viable option is to remain loyal to Lumon and its beloved founder, Kier, until retirement or death.

Dan Erickson, the creator and showrunner of Severance, revealed that this season was partially influenced by the recent Hollywood writers’ strike. “We were all engaged in discussions with our guilds about workers’ rights, the obligations we owe our employers, and what we should expect in return… and how much of ourselves, our lives, and our energies we should be willing to sacrifice for the sake of a job,” he stated during an interview on episode 252 of the Engadget Podcast.

Although much of the second season’s writing occurred prior to the strike, “consciously or unconsciously, I believe that the essence of those discussions has found its way into the narrative,” Erickson remarked. “Certainly, I think these themes will resonate with viewers as they watch the show. Ultimately, it’s a series that delves into the rights of workers and what they inherently deserve as human beings.”

As I engaged with this season of Severance and reflected on the events of its dramatic finale, I was inevitably reminded of Kazuo Ishiguro’s poignant novel Never Let Me Go. This narrative unfolds in a strict boarding institution where students are raised for a singular purpose, rendering their lives less valuable in the process. Yet, they continue to love, learn, and dream, harboring hopes and aspirations. Every innie deserves to be so fortunate.

Update, March 21 2025, 4:40 PM ET: This article has been revised to include an editor’s note regarding the season finale and the confirmation of a third season for the series.