Severance may first seem to revolve around a singular man, but it is truly about all of us. The Apple TV+ show does not merely reflect upon the topics of memory and identity, but systematically operates on the lie of emotional compartmentalization. During the season 2 finale, Mark’s innie chooses to stay inside Lumon and fully shuts the door on the outside world, as well as a version of himself who yearns to be reunited with a wife who has become more of a ghost.
Some viewers found that to be a particularly bitter betrayal. But if the conclusion that you arrived at is to feel sorry for Mark’s outie, then most likely you have missed the point of what Severance has intended to convey this entire time.
The focus of the show doesn’t seem to be on who gets to live, but rather the question of why there is a need to divide one’s soul in the first place.
Severance - Don’t blame the Innie—blame the myth of the “clean slate”

In this reality, we receive awards for repression. The phrase “leave your baggage at the door” has been praised in modern workplaces. However, the show takes this concept to the extreme, achieving a person’s full transformation at the price of their life. Mark’s outie didn’t simply world bad experiences like grief—he constructed an entirely distinct identity to experience it on his behalf.
That identity is selfish for electing a solely pleasant reality, but after enduring, enough is enough. After spending time merging identities, the refusal to do so is not defiance, but condemnation of a culture that treats emotions as a resource to be exploited.
In modern society, there is an unspoken rule that moving on is commendable. Indeed, “Severance” poses the pertinent question: We are moving on to what, and more importantly, who bears the burden?
The Outie Isn’t a Tragic Hero—He’s a Cautionary Tale

For clarity's sake, Mark’s outie isn’t a villain. But he also isn’t the tragic figure some people think he is. His journey is of a man so intent on erasing suffering that he allowed a corporation to slice his mind. What is more worrisome is how mundane that choice is. Haven’t we all wanted to ‘turn off’ for eight hours a day? Or distance ourselves from grief, guilt, or burnout?
Mark’s outie encapsulates the temptation of monetizing struggles. Yet, Severance does not sympathize with that urge— it warns against it. Sure, the introspection reveals the ‘why’, proving his sadness is justified, his longing, even his regret, is palpable. But these sentiments were never supposed to be someone else’s full-time occupation.
Severence pushes viewers to turn the lens to themselves. We should not pity him. Instead, we should see ourselves—and understand where that leads.
The real horror isn’t what Mark does—it’s that we understand why

The complexity of Severance does not arise from choosing a character to root for; it comes from how deeply uncomfortable we feel being this close to both parts of Mark. The outie is relatable due to that grief, while the innie is romanticized because of the freedom he yearns for. The quietly disclosed truth, however, is that the real villain is not Mark, in either of his incarnations, but the entire system that compelled him to make a choice.
Mark’s outie does not warrant undeserved sympathy. While he may be deserving of pity, the emotion is far better spent on the voiceless, the ones whose identities we confine, and the systems designed to thrive from our tacit subservience.
The ultimate act of defiance in the world of Severance is not escape, but the surrendering of power while refusing to do so. It is to experience everything.