Severance: The Dystopian Dream of Every Overworked Employee

I just finished Episode 7 of Severance, and my brain feels like it’s been run through the Macrodata Refinement department. The revelations, the cinematography, the absolute dread—all of it solidifies why this show is more than just a sci-fi thriller. It’s a commentary on the modern rat race, and quite frankly, it’s hitting a little too close to home.

For the uninitiated (who should really stop reading and go fix that), Severance revolves around the concept of splitting a person’s consciousness in two—creating an “innie” (who only exists at work) and an “outie” (who enjoys the spoils of the outside world, blissfully unaware of their corporate servitude). It’s the ultimate work-life balance hack, right? No more stressing about emails at 2 AM, no more dragging personal baggage into the office. The dream. Or so we thought.

A Reflection of Our Work-Obsessed Culture

If The Office was a quirky love letter to the banality of work, Severance is its gothic, existential horror cousin. The show taps into something painfully real: the depersonalization of the workforce. The idea that corporations would eagerly strip employees of their autonomy (if they could get away with it) isn’t even speculative fiction—it’s just HR with a Black Mirror filter.

In a world where hustle culture tells us to monetize hobbies, answer emails on vacation, and find “meaning” in our jobs, Severance presents an alternative: what if you could opt out entirely? What if your work self had no knowledge of—or connection to—your personal life? At first, this sounds ideal, but as we watch Mark, Helly, and the gang at Lumon struggle with the implications, the horror becomes clear. These “innies” are prisoners—conscious only at work, unable to leave, unable to rest. They exist solely to be productive. It’s a scenario that makes even the worst Monday morning meeting seem merciful.

The Cultural Phenomenon of Severance

It’s no surprise that Severance just surpassed Ted Lasso as Apple TV+’s most-watched series. As much as we all love feel-good storytelling, there’s something eerily relatable about a show that holds up a mirror to modern work culture. Episode 7, Chikhai Bardo, broke records, sending the fandom into a frenzy. (No spoilers, but let’s just say the Lumon conspiracy has never been more terrifying.)

The show’s cultural footprint is growing in fascinating ways. A Severance-inspired game lets fans experience the soul-sucking joy of Macrodata Refinement firsthand, because who wouldn’t want to simulate spreadsheet hell? Meanwhile, an 8-hour ODESZA remix of the Severance theme is now available, presumably for those who wish to disassociate in style.

More than just a TV show, Severance has become a touchpoint for deeper conversations about mental health, work-life balance, and late-stage capitalism. Fans are drawing literary parallels, debating philosophical implications, and sharing their own workplace horror stories. The demand for Severance merch—including dystopian office supplies (which somehow feels too real)—proves just how deeply people are resonating with the show’s themes.

Why This Matters

At its core, Severance is corporate horror at its finest. It takes real anxieties—the loss of personal autonomy, the commodification of labor, the soul-crushing aspects of bureaucracy—and distorts them just enough to feel dystopian, yet eerily plausible. The fact that people are relating to it so deeply is a flashing neon sign that something is broken in how we approach work.

So, as we brace ourselves for the next episode, let’s take a moment to ask: If severance were real, would you opt in?

Because after watching Episode 7, I know my answer. And it’s a hard, Lumon-branded NO.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go stare at a wall and process what I just watched.