New Severance Season Two: A Deep Dive into the Innies Struggle for Identity and Rights in a Trapped Existence

Upon reflection, the «innies» of Severance — those ensnared in the monotonous grind of their workplace — should have a strong animosity towards their «outies» — the counterparts who roam in a world outside of the office. While outies enjoy a life that appears untroubled and free from the drudgery, tedium, and indignities associated with corporate existence, innies remain perpetually trapped. Each time they step into the elevator at the conclusion of their shifts, activating their outie identities, they merely blink and find themselves back in the clinical corridors of the malevolent biotechnology organization Lumon Industries. There are neither weekends nor vacations, and even sleeping feels like a luxury.

Editor’s note: The finale of Severance is now available, but this review was composed prior to the airing of the season two finale. In the meantime, Apple confirmed today that it has commissioned a third season of the acclaimed series, allowing us to keep up with the narratives of Lumon’s finest.

Spoilers ahead for Severance season 2. No spoilers for the finale, «Cold Harbor.»

The first season of Severance debuted during the tumultuous early days of the COVID pandemic when many navigated their own struggles with balancing work and personal life. It unveiled the central premise of the series — that Lumon had mastered the ability to entirely dissociate professional and personal experiences — and introduced the terms «innie» and «outie» as new cultural slang. However, the inaugural season predominantly showcased the perspective of the outies, which sometimes detracted from the overall narrative. Season two, in contrast, significantly fortified the storyline by emphasizing the innie viewpoint. Are they entitled to whole lives, or merely the labor that their outies prefer to evade? Are they permitted to find love? Are they genuinely sentient beings?

These are themes the story had previously explored, yet the innie struggle grew increasingly heartbreaking as season two progressed. We witnessed Adam Scott’s Mark S. grapple with the conflicting desires to save Lumon’s wellness counselor, Ms. Casey, who turned out to be his outie’s allegedly deceased spouse, while also nurturing a developing relationship with fellow innie Hellie R. (Britt Lower). John Turturro’s Irving B. spent the entirety of the season nursing a shattered heart following the disappearance of the innie he loved. Concurrently, Zach Cherry’s Dylan G. found himself enamored with his outie’s spouse (Merritt Wever), who recognized the best traits of her struggling husband through his innie persona.

Innies owe their existence to their outies, yet endure a harrowing life that primarily facilitates outies’ ease. Season two clarified that the severance process, involving a brain procedure that differentiates the innie and outie identities, effectively produces an adult child whose sole purpose is to work. Innies lack comprehension of science, history, or the broader world, restricted to the information Lumon imparts. Unsurprisingly, the company’s communication to innies is centered on productivity, output, and a cult-like devotion to its founder, Kier Eagan. (It resembles Apple constructing its internal culture on the idolization of Steve Jobs as a deity, replete with archaic practices and sacred texts.)

Although we spent less time examining outies this season, the portrayal of their side of the severance experience gained depth. A humorous reference to the «return to office» trend reveals Tramell Tillman’s Milchick nearly pleading with outies to return to Lumon following their innie uprising at the conclusion of the first season. In reality, RTO is largely a scenario where corporate leaders eagerly desire to witness their employees laboring, rather than risk them becoming complacent while working remotely.

Furthermore, we glimpse what outies forfeit by delegating their work lives to their innies. When Dylan G.’s outie, Dylan George, is denied a fundamental job outside of Lumon, he discovers that his innie’s work time doesn’t count towards his own experience. (This echoes the potential losses we face if we shift tasks to AI tools.) The severance system serves not only as a confinement for the innies trapped within Lumon’s offices but also presents challenges for the outies, making it difficult for them to secure employment elsewhere. The only option is to remain faithful to Lumon, and its esteemed founder Kier, until retirement or death.

Dan Erickson, the creator and showrunner of Severance, mentioned that this season drew inspiration from the recent Hollywood writers’ strike. «We engaged in discussions with our guilds about worker rights, what we owe our employers, and what we should realistically expect in return… And how much of ourselves, our lives, and our energy we should be willing to relinquish for the sake of a job,» he remarked in an interview on episode 252 of the Engadget Podcast.

While a significant portion of the second season was penned prior to the strike, «consciously or unconsciously, I believe that the atmosphere of those discussions influenced the narrative,» Erickson stated. «I am certain that these themes will resonate with viewers as they watch the show. Ultimately… it centers on the rights of workers and the recognition of their humanity.»

As I observed this season of Severance and processed the impactful events of its thrilling finale, I couldn’t help but think of Kazuo Ishiguro’s poignant novel Never Let Me Go. It revolves around a rigid boarding institution where students are raised for a singular purpose, their own lives rendered insignificant in the process. Yet they still experience love, education, and aspirations. Every innie deserves such fortune.

Update, March 21 2025, 4:40PM 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 show.